“Why, no,” said Mrs. Giles, a little confused. “We are not intimate, at least not very, Ms. Campian has been at my house, and I have been here two et three times; not so often as I could wish, for Mr. Giles, you see, does not like servants and horses to be used on Sundays—and no more do I—and on weekdays he is too much engaged or too tired to come out this distance; so you see—” The singing had ceased, and Theodora approached them. Addressing Lothair, she said: “The Princess of Tivoli wishes that you should be presented to her.” The Princess of Tivoli was a Roman dame of one of the most illustrious houses, but who now lived at Paris. She had in her time taken an active part in Italian politics, and had sacrificed to the cause to which she was devoted the larger part of a large fortune. What had been spared, however, permitted her to live in the French capital with elegance, if not with splendor; and her saloon was the gathering roof, in Paris, of almost every one who was celebrated for genius or accomplishments. Though reputed to be haughty and capricious, she entertained for Theodora an even passionate friendship, and now visited England only to see her. “Madame Campian has been telling me of all the kind things you did for her at Oxford,” said the princess. “Some day you must show me Oxford, but it must be next year. I very much admire the free university life. Tell me now, at Oxford you still have the Protestant religion?” Lothair ventured to bow assent. “Ah! that is well,” continued the princess. “I advise you to keep it. If we had only had the Protestant religion in Italy, things would have been very different. You are fortunate in this country in having the Protestant religion and a real nobility. Tell me now, in your constitution, if the father sits in the Upper Chamber, the son sits in the Lower House—that I know; but is there any majorat at attached to his seat?” “Not at present.” “You sit in the Lower House, of course?” “I am not old enough to sit in either House,” said Lothair, “but when I am of age, which I shall be when I have the honor of showing Oxford to your highness, I must sit in the Upper House, for I have not the blessing of a living father.” “Ah! that is a great thing in your country,” exclaimed the princess, “a man being his own master at so early an age.” “I thought it was a ‘heritage of woe,’” said Lothair. “No, no,” said the princess; “the only tolerable thing in life is action, and action is feeble without youth. What if you do not obtain your immediate object?—you always think you will, and the detail of the adventure is full of rapture. And thus it is the blunders of youth are preferable to the triumphs of manhood, or the successes of old age.” “Well, it will be a consolation for me to remember this when I am in a scrape,” said Lothair.