Coningsby started, advanced, coloured a little, could not conceal his surprise. The lady, too, though more prepared, was not without confusion, and for an instant looked down. Coningsby recalled at that moment the long dark eyelashes, and the beautiful, bashful countenance that had so charmed him at Millbank; but two years had otherwise effected a wonderful change in the sister of his school-day friend, and transformed the silent, embarrassed girl into a woman of surpassing beauty and of the most graceful and impressive mien. ‘It is not surprising that Mr. Coningsby should not recollect my niece,’ said Sir Joseph, addressing Sidonia, and wishing to cover their mutual embarrassment; ‘but it is impossible for her, or for anyone connected with her, not to be anxious at all times to express to him our sense of what we all owe him.’ Coningsby and Miss Millbank were now in full routine conversation, consisting of questions; how long she had been at Paris; when she had heard last from Millbank; how her father was; also, how was her brother. Sidonia made an observation to Sir Joseph on a passer-by, and then himself moved on; Coningsby accompanying his new friends, in a contrary direction, to the refreshment-room, to which they were proceeding. ‘And you have passed a winter at Rome,’ said Coningsby. ‘How I envy you! I feel that I shall never be able to travel.’ ‘And why not?’ ‘Life has become so stirring, that there is ever some great cause that keeps one at home.’ ‘Life, on the contrary, so swift, that all may see now that of which they once could only read.’ ‘The golden and silver sides of the shield,’ said Coningsby, with a smile. ‘And you, like a good knight, will maintain your own.’ ‘No, I would follow yours.’ ‘You have not heard lately from Oswald?’ ‘Oh, yes; I think there are no such faithful correspondents as we are; I only wish we could meet.’ ‘You will soon; but he is such a devotee of Oxford; quite a monk; and you, too, Mr. Coningsby, are much occupied.’ ‘Yes, and at the same time as Millbank. I was in hopes, when I once paid you a visit, I might have found your brother.’ ‘But that was such a rapid visit,’ said Miss Millbank. ‘I always remember it with delight,’ said Coningsby. ‘You were willing to be pleased; but Millbank, notwithstanding Rome, commands my affections, and in spite of this surrounding splendour, I could have wished to have passed my Christmas in Lancashire.’ ‘Mr. Millbank has lately purchased a very beautiful place in the county. I became acquainted with Hellingsley when staying at my grandfather’s.’ ‘Ah! I have never seen it; indeed, I was much surprised that papa became its purchaser, because he never will live there; and Oswald, I am sure, could never be tempted to quit Millbank. You know what enthusiastic ideas he has of his order?’