person of Marmaduke Burton, who returned to Paris from a long tour in Italy and elsewhere. Coward-like, he had fled at first, then, not finding himself pursued, he stopped, and, looking around, thought he had deserted the field too soon. It was at a ball Lady Dora met him, nearly a week after the events of the past chapter. He stood for a moment uncertain how to act. She knew Tremenhere was there; they had just spoken, and he had passed on. In an instant she saw her advantage--for so she deemed it; and, holding out a hand, cordially welcomed Burton's return amongst them. Her mother, among others, had almost dropped the acquaintance, in consequence of the coward slur attached to his name; but so completely was Lady Dora mistress of all around her, that her mother, though still doubting the policy of it, remembering how decidedly Lord Randolph had cut him, was fain to receive him politely when Lady Dora came up, leaning on his arm. "I will bend him now!" she thought, as she reflected upon the only one occupying her mind. As she moved through the rooms, she met Lord Randolph, who was seeking her. He started: Marmaduke looked embarrassed, and then attempted to smile; but the other was one of those to whom wealth was as dross, compared with honour. All the weaker parts of his character were sinking to the bottom, and the more sterling ones rising to the surface. Possibly it was from constant association with so noble a mind as Tremenhere's--and Lady Lysson's, too. Be it as it may, the struggling artist was more to him than the wealthy but dishonourable Burton. Without glancing at him, he held out an arm to Lady Dora, saying-- "Will you take my arm? I have been seeking you; Lady Lysson is anxious to speak to you." "Thank you," she replied with _hauteur_; "but you must see I am otherwise engaged--I am going to dance with Mr. Burton. Allow me to recall to your memory, an old friend." Lord Randolph took not the slightest notice. This cool reprehension of her conduct, the unworthy motive of which she was thus doubly made to feel, drove her frantic, and she turned aside with a-- "Come, Mr. Burton--we shall be late for this _deux temps_!" Lord Randolph moved another way, and looked anxiously about him. He soon perceived the object of his search, as Tremenhere's tall figure rose before him. "Come along, Tremenhere," he said, familiarly linking his arm in his--"I want to show you somebody." "Any one I know?" asked the other unsuspectingly. "A very pretty girl," replied Lord Randolph. "Indeed! But where is Lady Dora?"