Lord Montacute had conversed some time with Lady Constance; then he had danced with her; he had hovered about her during the evening. It was observed, particularly by some of the most experienced mothers. Lady Constance was a distinguished beauty of two seasons; fresh, but adroit. It was understood that she had refused offers of a high calibre; but the rejected still sighed about her, and it was therefore supposed that, though decided, she had the art of not rendering them desperate. One at least of them was of a rank equal to that of Tancred. She had the reputation of being very clever, and of being able, if it pleased her, to breathe scorpions as well as brilliants and roses. It had got about that she admired intellect, and, though she claimed the highest social position, that a booby would not content her, even if his ears were covered with strawberry leaves. In the cloak-room, Tancred was still at her side, and was presented to her mother, Lady Charmouth. ‘I am sorry to separate,’ said Tancred. ‘And so am I,’ said Lady Constance, smiling; ‘but one advantage of this life is, we meet our friends every day.’ ‘I am not going anywhere to-morrow, where I shall meet you,’ said Tancred, ‘unless you chance to dine at the Archbishop of York’s.’ ‘I am not going to dine with the Archbishop of York,’ said Lady Constance, ‘but I am going, where everybody else is going, to breakfast with Mrs. Guy Flouncey, at Craven Cottage. Why, will not you be there?’ ‘I have not the honour of knowing her,’ said Tancred. ‘That is not of the slightest consequence; she will be very happy to have the honour of knowing you. I saw her in the dancing-room, but it is not worth while waiting to speak to her now. You shall receive an invitation the moment you are awake.’ ‘But to-morrow I have an engagement. I have to look at a yacht.’ ‘But that you can look at on Monday; besides, if you wish to know anything about yachts, you had better speak to my brother, Fitz-Heron, who has built more than any man alive.’ ‘Perhaps he has one that he wishes to part with?’ said Tancred. ‘I have no doubt of it. You can ask him tomorrow at Mrs. Guy Flouncey’s.’ ‘I will. Lady Charmouth’s carriage is called. May I have the honour?’ said Tancred, offering his arm. CHAPTER XIII. _A Feminine Diplomatist_