She was pale,--she was somewhat of an abstracted and musing aspect. When one took into consideration her misfortune of authorship, she was in quite a sentimental _pose_ and attitude--so thought her American acquaintance, who had managed to secure an invitation to the Hall, and was one of Lord Winterbourne’s party. But Mr Endicott had “done” all the colleges before, and he could afford to let his attention be distracted by the appearance of the literary sister of the lady of his love. “I am not surprised at your abstraction,” said Mr Endicott. “In this, indeed, I do not hesitate to confess, my country is not equal to your Island. What an effect of sunshine! what a breadth of shade! I cannot profess to have any preference, in respect to Art, for the past, picturesque though it be--a poet of these days, Miss Atheling, has not to deal with facts, but feelings; but I have no doubt, before I interrupted you, the whole panorama of History glided before your meditative eye.” “No, indeed; I was thinking more of the future than of the past,” said Agnes hurriedly. “The future of this nation is obscure and mysterious,” said Mr Endicott, gathering his eyebrows solemnly. “Some man must arise to lead you--to glory--or to perdition! I see nothing but chaos and darkness; but why should I prophesy? A past generation had leisure to watch the signs of the times; but for us ‘Art is long and time is fleeting,’ and happy is the man who can snatch one burning experience from the brilliant mirage of life.” Agnes, a little puzzled by this mixture of images, did not attempt any answer. Mr Endicott went on. “I had begun to observe, with a great deal of interest, two remarkable young minds placed in a singular position. They were not to be met, of course, at the table of Lord Winterbourne,” said the American with dignity; “but in my walks about the park I sometimes encountered them, and always endeavoured to draw them into conversation. So remarkable, in fact, did they seem to me, that they found a place in my Letters from England; studies of character entirely new to my consciousness. I believe, Miss Atheling, I had once the pleasure of seeing them in your company. They stand--um--unfortunately in a--a--an equivocal relationship to my noble host.” “Ah! what of them?” cried Agnes quickly, and with a crimsoned cheek. She felt already how difficult it was to hear them spoken of, and not proclaim at once her superior knowledge. “A singular event, I understand, happened last night,” continued Mr Endicott. “Viscount Winterbourne, on his own lawn, was attacked and insulted by the young man, who afterwards left the house under very remarkable circumstances. My noble friend, who is an admirable example of an old English nobleman, was at one time in actual danger, and I believe has been advised to put this fiery youth--” “Do you mean Louis?” cried Agnes, interrupting him anxiously. “Louis!--do you mean that he has left the Hall?”