"Do you?" says Mr. Amherst, unamiably, feeling still a keen regret that the neat retort intended for Molly must wait another occasion. "I would believe you if I could, but it isn't in human nature. Yes, I am better, thank you; much better. I dare say with care I shall last this winter, and probably the next, and perhaps outlive a good many of you." He chuckles odiously as he winds up this pleasing speech. Mr. Potts, rather taken aback, mutters something inaudible, and turns to Lady Stafford, who receives him warmly. He is a young man of about twenty-four (though he might, in appearance, be any age from that to forty-four), and is short rather than tall. His eyes are gray, small, and bright, and full of fun, bespeaking imperturbable good humor. His hair is red. It is hair that admits of no compromise; it is neither auburn, golden, nor light brown--it is a distinct and fiery red. His nose is "poor, but honest," and he has a thorough and most apparent appreciation of himself. As I said before, Lady Stafford greets him warmly; he is one of her special pets. "How are you getting on?" he asks, mysteriously, when the first questions and answers have been gone through. "Old boy evidently worse than ever. The wine theory would not suit his case; age does anything but improve him. He has gone to the bad altogether. I suppose you've been putting in an awful bad time of it?" "We have, indeed," says Lady Stafford; "he has been unbearable all through dinner, though he was pretty well yesterday. I think myself it must be gout; every twinge brings forth a caustic speech." By this time every one had shaken hands with the newcomer, and welcomed him heartily. He seems specially pleased to see Tedcastle. "Luttrell! you here? Never had a hint of it. So glad to see you, old man! Why, you're looking as fit as even your best friend could wish you." "Meaning yourself," says Luttrell. "Now, let's have a look at you. Why, Planty, what an exquisite get up! New coat and--etc. latest tie, and diamonds _ad lib_. Quite coquettish, upon my word. Who gave you the diamonds, Potts? Your mother?" "No; I got tired of hinting there," says Potts, ingenuously, "so gave it up, and bought 'em myself. They are fetching, I take it. Luttrell, who is the girl at the piano? Never saw anything so lovely in all my life." "Miss Massereene." "Indeed! Been received, and all that? Well, there's been nothing this season to touch on her. Introduce me, Ted, do!" He is introduced. And Molly, smiling up at him one of her own brightest, kindliest smiles, makes him then and there her slave forever. On the spot, without a second's delay, he falls head over ears in love with her. By degrees he gets back to Lady Stafford, and sinks upon the sofa beside her. I say "sinks" unadvisedly; he drops upon the sofa, and very nearly makes havoc of the springs in doing so. "I want to tell you who I saw in town the day before I left--a week ago," he says, cautiously.