She remarked that whenever she wished him to meet any agreeable people at her house, he always declined these introductions under the plea of his dress, though he never proposed to alter it. This conduct, added to his silence on every subject which related to the public amusements about town, led her to conclude, that, like the banished nobility of France he was encountering the various inconveniences of poverty in a foreign land. She hoped that he had escaped its horrors; but she could not be certain, for he always shifted the conversation when it too closely referred to himself. These observations haunted the mind of Lady Tinemouth, and made her anxious to contrive some opportunity in which she might have this interesting Constantine alone, and by a proper management of the discourse, lead to some avowal of his real situation. Hitherto her benevolent intentions had been frustrated by various interruptions at various times. Indeed, had she been actuated by mere curiosity, she would long ago have resigned the attempt as fruitless; but pity and esteem kept her watchful until the very hour in which her considerate heart was fully satisfied. One morning, when she was writing in her cabinet, a servant informed her that Mr. Constantine was below. Pleased at this circumstance, she took advantage of a slight cold that affected her; and hoping to draw something out of him in the course of a _tete-à-tete_, begged he would favor her by coming into her private room. When he entered, she perceived that he looked more pensive than usual. He sat down by her, and expressed his concern at her indisposition. She sighed heavily, but remained silent. Her thoughts were too much occupied with her kind plan to immediately form a reply. She had determined to give him a cursory idea of her own unhappiness, and thus, by her confidence, attract him. "I hope Miss Egerton is well?" inquired he. "Very well, Mr. Constantine. A heart at ease almost ever keeps the body in health. May she long continue as happy as at this period, and never know the disappointments of her friend!" He looked at the countess. "It is true, my dear sir," continued she. "It is hardly probable that the mere effect of thirty-seven years could have made the inroads on my person which you see; but sorrow has done it; and with all the comforts you behold around me, I am miserable. I have no joy independent of the few friends which Heaven has preserved to me; and yet," added she, "I have another anxiety united with those of which I complain; some of my friends, who afford me the consolation I mention, deny me the only return in my power, the office of sharing their griefs." Thaddeus understood the expression of her ladyship's eye and the tenderness of her voice as she uttered these words. He saw to whom the kind reproach was directed, and he looked down confused and oppressed. The countess resumed.