While Twining's attack was being conducted in this fashion, Lord Lackington was not less industriously pursuing his plan of campaign elsewhere. He had sauntered with Molly into the garden and a little pavilion at the end of it, where the lake was seen in one of its most picturesque aspects. It was a well-known spot to him; he had passed many an evening on that low window-seat, half dreamingly forgetting himself in the peaceful scene, half consciously recalling pleasant nights at Brookes's and gay dinners at Carlton House. Here was it that he first grew hipped with matrimony, and so sated with its happiness that he actually began to long for any little disaster that might dash the smooth monotony of his life; and yet now, by one of those strange tricks memory plays us, he fancied that the moments he had once passed here had never been equalled in all his after-life. “I'm certain, though you won't confess,” said she, after one of his most eloquent bursts of remembered enjoyment,--“I 'm certain you were very much in love those days.” “An ideal passion, perhaps, a poetized vision of that bright creature who should, one day or other, sway this poor heart;” and he flattened the creases of his spotless white waistcoat; “but if you mean that I knew of any, had ever seen any, until now, this very moment--” “Stop! remember your promise,” said she, laughing. “But, _charmante_ Molly, I 'm only mortal,” said he, with an air of such superb humility that made her at once remember it was a peer who said it. “Mortals must keep their words,” said she, pertly. “The condition on which I consented to accept your companionship was--But I need n't remind you.” “No, do not, dear Molly, for I shall be delighted to forget it. You are aware that no law ever obliged a man to do what was impossible; and that to exact any pledge from him to such an end is in itself an illegality. You little suspected, therefore, that it was you, not I, was the delinquent.” “'All I know is, that you assured me you 'd not--you 'd not talk nonsense,” said she, blushing deeply, half angry, half ashamed. “Oh! never guessed you were here,” broke in Twining, as he peeped through the window. “Sweet spot--so quiet and secluded--capital fun!” “There is _such_ a view from this, papa,” said Molly, in some confusion at Twining's bantering look; “come round and see it.” “I have just been telling this dear girl of yours, O'Reilly, that you ought to make this place your own,” said Lord Lackington. “Don't fancy you 'd be out of the world here. Why, there 's the Villa d'Este, a European celebrity at once; it will be thronged next year to suffocation. The 'Galignani,' I see, has already mentioned myself and Lady Lackington as among the visitors. These things have their effect The press in our day is an estate.” “Indeed, I 'm sure of it. There was a cousin of my wife's drew his two hundred a year out of the 'Tyrawley Express,'--a daily little paper, that, maybe, your Lordship never seen.”