The stranger came slowly forward, examining the trees and flowers as he passed along, and peering with his double eye-glass to read the names attached to whatever was rarest. Affecting to be gathering flowers for a bouquet, she stooped frequently, till the other came near, and then, as he removed his hat to salute her, she threw back her veil and stood, silent, before him. “Madam! madam!” cried he, in a voice of such intense agony as showed that he was almost choked for utterance. “How is this, madam?” said he, in a tone of indignant demand. “How is this?” “I have really no explanation to offer, sir,” said she, in a cold, low voice. “My astonishment is great as your own; this meeting is not of my seeking. I need scarcely say so much.” “I do not know that!--by Heaven I do not!” cried he, in a passion. “You are surely forgetting, sir, that we are no longer anything to each other, and thus forgetting the deference due to me as a stranger?” “I neither forget nor forgive!” said he, sternly. “Happily, sir, you will not be called upon to do either. I no longer bear your name--” “Oh that you had never borne it!” cried he, in agony. “There is at least one sentiment we agree in, sir,--would that I never had!” said she; and a slight--very slight--tremor shook the words as she spoke them. “Tell me at once, madam, what do you mean by this surprise? I know all your skill in _accidents_,--what does this one portend?” “You are too flattering, sir, believe me,” said she, with an easy smile. “I have plotted nothing,--I have nothing to plot,--at least, in which you are concerned. The unhappy bond that once united us is loosed forever; but I do not see that even harsh memories are to suggest bad manners.” “I am no stranger to your flippancy, madam. You have made me acquainted with all your merits.” “You were going to say virtues, George,--confess you were?” said she, coquettishly. “Gracious mercy, woman! can you dare--” “My dear Mr. Ogden,” broke she in, gently, “I can dare to be that which you have just told me was impossible for you,--forgetful and forgiving.” “Oh, madam, this is, indeed, generous!” said be, with a bitter mockery. “Well, sir, it were no bad thing if there were a little generosity between us. Don't fancy that all the forgiveness should come from _you_; don't imagine that _I_ am not plaintiff as well as defendant.” Then, suddenly changing her tone to one of easy indifference, she said, “And so your impression is, sir, that the Cabinet will undergo no change?” She looked hurriedly round as she spoke, and saw Sir William Heathcote coming rapidly towards them. “Sir William, let me present to you Mr. Ogden, a name you must be familiar with in the debates,” said she, introducing them. “I hope Lord Agincourt has not been correct in telling me that you are pressed for time, Mr. Ogden. I trust you will give us at least a day.”