"By the by, I am too familiar--I am sunk in the world. I am a thing to be sneered at by you old-family people. I am next heir to a bran-new Brummagem peerage. 'Gad, I feel brassy already!" "What, is Mr. Templeton--" "Mr. Templeton is no more; he is defunct, extinguished--out of the ashes rises the phoenix Lord Vargrave. We had thought of a more sounding title; De Courval has a nobler sound,--but my good uncle has nothing of the Norman about him: so we dropped the De as ridiculous--Vargrave is euphonious and appropriate. My uncle has a manor of that name--Baron Vargrave of Vargrave." "Ah--I congratulate you." "Thank you. Lady Vargrave may destroy all my hopes yet. But nothing venture, nothing have. My uncle will be gazetted to-day. Poor man, he will be delighted; and as he certainly owes it much to me, he will, I suppose, be very grateful--or hate me ever afterwards--that is a toss up. A benefit conferred is a complete hazard between the thumb of pride and the forefinger of affection. Heads gratitude, tails hatred! There, that's a simile in the fashion of the old writers: 'Well of English undefiled!' humph!" "So that beautiful child is Mrs. Templeton's, or rather Lady Vargrave's, daughter by a former marriage?" said Maltravers, abstractedly. "Yes, it is astonishing how fond he is of her. Pretty little creature--confoundedly artful though. By the way, Maltravers, we had an unexpectedly stormy night the last of the session--strong division--ministers hard pressed. I made quite a good speech for them. I suppose, however, there will be some change--the moderates will be taken in. Perhaps by next session I may congratulate you." Ferrers looked hard at Maltravers while he spoke. But Ernest replied coldly, and evasively, and they were now joined by a party of idlers, lounging along the lawn in expectation of the first dinner-bell. Cleveland was in high consultation about the proper spot for a new fountain; and he summoned Maltravers to give his opinion whether it should spring from the centre of a flower-bed or beneath the drooping shade of a large willow. While this interesting discussion was going on, Ferrers drew aside his cousin, and pressing her hand affectionately, said, in a soft and tender voice: "My dear Florence--for in such a time permit me to be familiar--I understand from Lord Saxingham, whom I met in London, that you are engaged to Maltravers. Busy as I was, I could not rest without coming hither to offer my best and most earnest wish for your happiness. I may seem a careless, I am considered a selfish, person; but my heart is warm to those who really interest it. And never did brother offer up for the welfare of a beloved sister prayers more anxious and fond, than those that poor Lumley Ferrers, breathes for Florence Lascelles."