"Tonnerre," said Lord Somerton, turning away from this brief reception with a degree of contempt; "come aside, I have something to tell you;" when a deep discussion on matters interesting and intelligible to the former seemed to ensue, since it was productive of a partial relaxation of the scowl which generally characterized his face when he felt himself, as in the present instance, overlooked, or when subjects indifferent to him, or above his comprehension, were alluded to. Lady Tilney, hitherto absorbed in her conversation with Prince Luttermanne, now looked up, and addressing Lady Baskerville with an air of protection, invited her to come and take the seat next to her. "What a vastly pretty cap you have on!--do tell me where you got it; and, my dear Lady Baskerville, if you have nothing better to do, pray don't forget to come to me to-morrow night. Have you seen any thing of Lord Albert D'Esterre to-day? What do _you_ think of him? _I_ can hardly understand him yet; sometimes I think one thing, sometimes another. They say he is a Methodist--how extraordinary! if he was not young, or not handsome, or not _d'une bonne tournure_, one might suppose such a thing; but as it is I don't believe it--do you?" "I have not seen enough of him to judge," was the cautious reply (for Lady Baskerville could be cautious where so deep a stake was at hazard as fashionable consideration); "but I think he rather affects singularity." "Perhaps so; but then you know he will soon correct that fault when he has lived a little longer amongst us. I have heard that he is engaged to be married;--do you know if it is true?" "I did hear," said Lady Baskerville, "something about a Lady Adeline Seymour, a cousin of his who has been brought up in the shades, and is said to be a world's wonder of beauty, and purity, and perfection; but the engagement was an affair of the papa's and mamma's, and probably the parties themselves will hate each other in consequence."