The repast was over. The personages already mentioned sauntered for a short time before their departure among the close walks and the orange-trees. Lord James Everdon and Miss Eliza Elwick were inseparable; not that they had the slightest preference for each other--their whole bond of union consisted in the magnificent set of teeth with which nature had favoured them both. They were not the least aware of the reason they were pleased with each other; but it may be remarked, that those who have bad teeth do not find themselves so comfortable with a companion who makes them laugh, as with one whose conversation is more serious; while a person with fine teeth discovers a point in many a jest, which to one who is conscious of anything defective in that respect would appear stale, flat, and unprofitable. Many flirtations might be traced home to similarity of teeth, which have passed for congeniality of disposition. When they arrived at home, the two friends talked over the day. "Who in the world is your Mr. Wroxholme?" said Lady Blanche. "I assure you he is a very agreeable man," replied Lady Westhope, anxious he should appear to have been her companion by choice, rather than from necessity. "What is he by birth and parentage?" "I do not know, but he is acquainted with several people who are mutual friends; I shall invite him to my parties next spring. I think he will be a great acquisition." "What an odious man Mr. Stapleford is! I always disliked his quiet sarcastic manner of dropping out just the thing that is most disagreeable; and I was so much obliged to the dear, good, honest Lord Glenrith, for giving him a lecture, which ought to have made him look foolish." "How handsome Lord Glenrith is!" said Lady Westhope, curious to know how Blanche felt towards him. "Yes! he certainly is handsome; but he has too much colour, and he looks so very healthy and robust! I do not think his countenance could express unhappiness. I like a man to look serious and thoughtful, as if he was full of feeling, and as if his gaiety was just a bright gleam of sunshine, the more brilliant for the gloom which precedes and follows it. Nothing is so beautiful as the smile of a countenance habitually melancholy." Lady Westhope perceived that, notwithstanding her pique, Blanche had not forgotten De Molton. They returned to England. The London season was nearly over; Parliament did not sit late; there was no business which required Lord Falkingham's presence, and Blanche joined her parents in the country, where they had already established themselves; but, as she passed through London, she went to the play with the Westhopes. They were leaving the theatre, when they met Captain De Molton on the stairs. He rushed to them with a face in which the much-admired smile usurped the place of the melancholy which Lady Blanche also admired. He asked her if she was staying in London: she replied she was going to Temple Loseley the next day.