It was the day after this, that Myra being in the music room and alone, Lord Roehampton opened the door, looked in, and then said, “Where is Miss Neuchatel?” “I think she is on the terrace.” “Let us try to find her, and have one of our pleasant strolls. I sadly want one, for I have been working very hard all this morning, and half the night.” “I will be with you, Lord Roehampton, in a moment.” “Do not let us have anybody else,” he said, as she left the room. They were soon on the terrace, but Adriana was not there. “We must find her,” said Lord Roehampton; “you know her haunts. Ah! what a delight it is to be in this air and this scene after those dreadful boxes! I wish they would turn us out. I think they must soon.” “Now for the first time,” said Myra, “Lord Roehampton is not sincere.” “Then you think me always sincere?” he replied. “I have no reason to think you otherwise.” “That is very true,” said Lord Roehampton, “truer perhaps than you imagine.” Then rather abruptly he said, “You know Colonel Albert very well?” “Pretty well. I have seen him here frequently, and he is also a friend of my brother.” “Ah! a friend of your brother.” Then, after a slight pause, he said, “He is an interesting man.” “I think so,” said Myra. “You know all about him, of course.” “Very good-looking.” “Well, he looks unhappy, I think, and worn.” “One is never worn when one is young,” said Lord Roehampton. “He must have great anxieties and great sorrows,” said Myra. “I cannot imagine a position more unfortunate than that of an exiled prince.” “I can,” said Lord Roehampton. “To have the feelings of youth and the frame of age.” Myra was silent, one might say dumbfounded. She had just screwed herself up to the task which Mr. Neuchatel had imposed on her, and was about to appeal to the good offices of Lord Roehampton in favour of the prince, when he had indulged in a remark which was not only somewhat strange, but from the manner in which it was introduced hardly harmonised with her purpose. “Yes, I would give up everything,” said Lord Roehampton. “I would even be an exile to be young; to hear that Miss Ferrars deems me interesting and good-looking, though worn.” “What is going to happen?” thought Myra. “Will the earth open to receive me?” “You are silent,” said Lord Roehampton. “You will not speak, you will not sigh, you will not give a glance of consolation or even pity. But I have spoken too much not to say more. Beautiful, fascinating being, let me at least tell you of my love.”