He had been wonderfully attracted by the grace and beauty of Miss Oriel. Absorbed in admiration of her easy and modest self-possession, he forgot to ask his former favorite, the pretty and _spirituelle_ Mrs. Dale, to take wine with him, and the lady was quick-sighted enough to discover, and wise enough to smile at the discovery that henceforth her reign over the tilbury was at an end. She was quite right. Soon after dinner Mr. Beauchamp solicited from Cecil Forrester the honor of an introduction to Miss Oriel, and though Cecil would have been ready to fight a duel with a fellow who should thus have presumed after a three days’ acquaintance, had the lady been one whom he really respected, yet he now cordially acquiesced in the wishes of both parties, and with a degree of magnanimity quite surprising to Laura, afforded her exactly the opportunity she had desired. About twenty minutes before sunset—the hour Mr. Beauchamp usually selected for his daily drive—Miss Oriel was handed into the elegant vehicle, and they drove off, leaving several gentlemen in ecstasies at her beauty as she playfully kissed her hand to her dear old fat Mamma, who had bustled out with “my sweet Laura’s cashmere, lest the evening air should injure her delicate health.” Her fears were quite unnecessary. Mr. Beauchamp never drove his horses more than three miles at a time, and had no fancy for hardening his white hands by curbing their impetuosity. He was seldom absent more than half an hour, as his ambition was fully gratified by being envied as he drove off, or dashed up to the door with the best horses before his carriage and the most admired woman at his side. THE PIAZZA. Two weeks passed away, during which time Miss Oriel had shown her skill in female tactics by managing to secure the attentions of Mr. Beauchamp, while she had transferred Cecil to Ellen Grey until she should be able to decide upon his future fate. One evening, Cecil, who had long known and admired Mrs. Dale, invited her to walk with him on the piazza, that they might witness the effect of moonlight upon the distant sea. “I am indebted to Miss Grey’s headache for this invitation,” said Mrs. Dale, laughing, as she took his arm; “had she been in the saloon my eyes would never have been thus favored with a moonlight scene.” Forrester entered a disclaimer against the lady’s assertion, and a playful conversation ensued, when Mrs. Dale, suddenly changing the topic, said: “Pray tell me, Mr. Forrester, if Mr. Beauchamp is so immensely rich?” “I really cannot take it upon me to determine that delicate question, Madam,” was the reply, “but, as a firm believer in the doctrine of _compensations_, I am bound to suppose he must be very wealthy.” “Not understanding your premises I cannot clearly comprehend your deductions,” said Mrs. Dale playfully.