Randal Leslie entered. Harley--who, despite his disregard for forms, and his dislike to Randal, was too high-bred not to be polite to his junior in age or inferior in rank--rose and bowed. But his bright piercing eyes did not soften as they caught and bore down the deeper and more latent fire in Randal's. Harley then did not resume his seat, but moved to the mantlepiece, and leant against it. RANDAL.--"I have fulfilled, your commissions, Mr. Egerton. I went first to Maida-Hill, and saw Mr. Burley. I gave him the check, but he said 'it was too much, and he should return half to the banker;' he will write the article as you suggested. I then--" AUDLEY.--"Enough, Randal! we will not fatigue Lord L'Estrange with these little details of a life that displeases him--the life political." HARLEY.--"But _these_ details do not displease me; they reconcile me to my own life. Go on, pray, Mr. Leslie." Randal had too much tact to need the cautioning glance of Mr. Egerton. He did not continue, but said, with a soft voice, "Do you think, Lord L'Estrange, that the contemplation of the mode of life pursued by others _can_ reconcile a man to his own, if he had before thought it needed a reconciler?" Harley looked pleased, for the question was ironical; and, if there was a thing in the world he abhorred, it was flattery. "Recollect your Lucretius, Mr. Leslie, _Suave mare_, &c., 'pleasant from the cliff to see the mariners tossed on the ocean.' Faith, I think that sight reconciles one to the cliff--though, before, one might have been teased by the splash from the spray, and deafened by the scream of the sea-gulls. But I leave you, Audley. Strange that I have heard no more of my soldier. Remember I have your promise when I come to claim it. Good-by, Mr. Leslie, I hope that Mr. Burley's article will be worth the--check." Lord L'Estrange mounted his horse, which was still at the door, and rode through the Park. But he was no longer now unknown by sight. Bows and nods saluted him on every side. "Alas, I am found out then," said he to himself. "That terrible Duchess of Knaresborough, too--I must fly my country." He pushed his horse into a canter, and was soon out of the Park. As he dismounted at his father's sequestered house, you would have hardly supposed him the same whimsical, fantastic, but deep and subtle humorist that delighted in perplexing the material Audley. For his expressive face was unutterably serious. But the moment he came into the presence of his parents the countenance was again lighted and cheerful. It brightened the whole room like sunshine. CHAPTER XI. "Mr. Leslie," said Egerton, when Harley had left the library, "you did not act with your usual discretion in touching upon matters connected with politics in the presence of a third party." "I feel that already, sir; my excuse is that I held Lord L'Estrange to be your most intimate friend."