She seemed to have found a special use for him, treating him as a complete thinking machine, of high powers of observation, inflection, thought and reason, but not susceptible of aught that savored of feeling, sentiment or passion. She quietly threw the mantle of Mentor over his shoulders, deferred to his judgment, had recourse to him as a store-house of knowledge; and seemed so fully impressed with the fact that he had a head, as utterly to forget the probability of his having a heart. With a strange perversity, L'Isle was at once flattered and annoyed at the use she made of him. It was an unequal game he was playing, like a moth fluttering round a candle. His temper began to be worn threadbare, and oftener than ever he repeated to himself, "She is a heartless woman!" In this mood L'Isle was listening, with a curled lip, to an animated discussion between Lady Mabel, Sir Charles Moreton, and another gentleman, as to the merits of a new actress, a dramatic meteor, then briefly eminent on the London boards. The Honorable Mr. L----, who was a _savant_ in the small sciences that cater to amusement, pronounced her the Siddons of the day; Lady Mabel called her a ranter, then, as if alarmed at her temerity, appealed as usual to L'Isle. "No one can be a better judge of acting than Lady Mabel," said L'Isle. "But for her opinion, I would call your favorite an indifferently good actress." Thus to "damn with faint praise," displeased Mr. L---- more than positive censure, and he exclaimed: "Then you never saw her play Jane Shore. The illusion is perfect. The house is deceived into forgetting the drama, to witness the living and dying agonies of the desolate penitent. Who can equal her?" "Many," answered L'Isle; "and Lady Mabel can do better." "Lady Mabel! She doubtless excels in everything. But I never saw her act." "I have," said L'Isle bitterly. "The illusion of Mrs. ----'s acting is limited to the spectators. Lady Mabel deceives him who acts with her." Lady Mabel turned pale, and then red, while the two gentlemen stared at her and L'Isle alternately. Suddenly exclaiming, "There is my friend, Mrs. B----. I have not seen her for a month. I must go and speak to her," she accepted the arm of the _savant_ in small things, and hastened after her friend, who had appeared so opportunely. "You set little value on Lady Mabel's favors," said Sir Charles, looking inquisitively at L'Isle. "You have certainly offended her greatly." "Do you think so?" said L'Isle coldly. "Then I suppose I must apologize and beg my peace." "If you do it successfully," said his companion, "I will be glad of a lesson from you in the art."