“Adieu the eagle and the swan!” cried Granby, as they drove off. “By Imperial Jove! Ambient, she is worthy to be the consort of a god. If I was ambitious, as you are, I should aspire as you do and as much in vain. I suppose this is your first love, eh? You’re luckier than most men. A man’s first is generally either a grandmotherly old flirt become _dévote_, or some bread-and-butter, sweet simplicity,--oh, bah!” “Lucky!” echoed Ambient. “I’m confoundedly unlucky and unhappy. She’ll never have anything to say to me--except in that infernal condescending _de haut en bas_ style, as if I was a boy. I’d like to pwove it on somebody that I’m not!” and Sir Com looked around with a quite fierce expression upon his pleasant countenance. “Well, I’m not at all sorry for you,” said Granby cheerfully. “It never does anyone any harm to be desperately in love with a woman who is worthy. You may be sure that Diana will never flirt with you.” “She fluriot!--she would never care enough for anyone’s admiration to twy to gain it. I only wish she would fluriot with me; then I could be angwy--now I’m only wetched.” “It will not help you to know that everybody must go through it,” said Granby, his face grave again--even a little bitter. “I have, my dear fellow--and worse. For my part, I admire the goddess immensely; but I think I could love her friend more--that heavenly mildness gently soothes my soul. The nose,” continued the major, waxing eloquent, “is man’s most available feature--it may be tweaked. The mouth in woman is delicately expressive and available when we are allowed to”--and he raised his fingers with courteous reverence to his lips. “But the mouth is external merely. Who wishes to look down it, even though heart may be in throat and panting at the parted lips? It is the eyes--eyes like Clara’s, where there is soul beneath the surface and down in the deep profound of those wells of lightsome lustre is truth--these we may dreamily gaze in for life-long peacefulness.” Ambient stared at this rhapsody, not quite certain whether his companion was in earnest. But before he could decide, a carriage drove up, and Granby gave a distant view-halloo as Mr. Waddy stepped out. “Punctual to a tick,” said Ira, holding up his watch and producing the rhinoceros-horn match-box and his case of cheroots. Granby took one, presented Sir Com, and they entered the hotel together. * * * * * Horace Belden was out that morning exercising his race-horse Knockknees. As he descended the same slope where he had fouled with Tootler’s buggy, he saw approaching a carriage with two ladies. He recognised them instantly, with a leap of the heart. He drew up by their side with polite commonplaces of welcome, dashed with more meaning when he addressed Diana. They told him whence and whither--to-day to Miss Sullivan, to-morrow to Newport. “How can you like that man?” asked Clara, as they drove on. “He seems to me a Sansfoy.”