Lord Glenrith approached her. De Molton's heart beat quick; he felt almost giddy. Lord Glenrith's manner was gay and unembarrassed: he held a parcel in his hand. Lady Falkingham drew near--there was a great colloquy: De Molton heard the expressions "beautiful!"--"the prettiest I ever saw!"--"they tell me it is the first that has been made;"--"well, how lovely!" Lady Blanche seemed to be expressing her thanks, but in so low a tone of voice he could not catch the words. She looked blushingly beautiful! Lady Falkingham moved a little on one side, and he saw Lord Glenrith in the act of fastening a bracelet on her arm. Perhaps another lover might not have selected such a moment for presenting his first love-token, but the parcel was only just arrived. Lord Glenrith was pleased with his purchase; all around were friends, and why should there be any mystery? To De Molton's eyes all mystery was indeed dispelled. He felt choking. He could not master his feelings sufficiently to preserve an indifferent countenance, and he left the room under the pretence of seeing after his postboy, or his portmanteau. The rest of the company gathered round the bride elect, and admired the beautiful ornament and discussed its peculiar fabric; while poor Blanche sat frightened at the agitation which pervaded her whole frame in consequence of having been for five minutes in the society of De Molton. However, when she retired to her own room before dinner, she satisfied herself that what she had felt was merely a very natural awkwardness at first meeting a person with whom she certainly had flirted a little, and shyness at being seen by a young man acquaintance, in the act of receiving her lover's first present. She could not help secretly wishing Lord Glenrith had not given the bracelet before so many witnesses, and she felt there was a want of delicacy in the proceeding, even while she told herself it was in unison with his open, unsuspicious character, which measured the kindliness of others by his own good-natured heart. At dinner De Molton placed himself at the farther end of the table, and the épergne prevented his being able to perceive Lady Blanche's face. However, he saw Lord Glenrith's; and never did an honest countenance express more secure and undisturbed happiness. Poor De Molton! He had quitted Paris on purpose not to stand in the way of that happiness which his friend had obtained; and now, how painful was it to see the object accomplished! During the evening, Lady Westhope contrived, in as quiet a manner as she could, to convey to De Molton the confirmation of a fact which was already too evident to his eyes, and she appeared not to remark the varying hues of his complexion, and the agitation of his manner, during her communication. Lady Blanche strove to be easy and unembarrassed; and she succeeded so far as to make him believe her happy, and perfectly satisfied with the prospect before her.