Mr. Leslie Winyard now bent over Lady Glenmore, and whispered in her ear. She listened with rather more complacency than Lord Albert seemed to think was fitting, and she thanked Mr. Leslie Winyard for his care with somewhat more of feeling than he thought the occasion merited; but she spoke aloud, and seemed to avoid the whispered conversation which the other affected to hold. Lord Albert, however, who was the last man in the world to play the mean part of a spy over the actions of any one, felt his situation sufficiently awkward; and considering that his every wish was on the wing after Lady Adeline, it became every instant more painful. He almost determined on leaving Lady Glenmore; but then he thought Lord Glenmore would naturally feel hurt at his doing so. Whilst weighing this matter with himself, Lord Glenmore returned, announcing the carriage to be at hand. "D'Esterre, have the goodness to give your arm to Lady Glenmore on one side, and I will take care of her on the other, and then we shall be able, Georgina, to take you through the crowd without your suffering any inconvenience." Mr. Leslie Winyard bit his lip with mortification, and Lord Boileau said to him, with some degree of sarcasm, "Really, Winyard, I think you _are_ ill used; after your services, to see another preferred before you." "Oh! _c'est la fortune de la guerre_," he replied, with an air of _affected_ triumph; "but as for preference, _reste à savoir_." "Upon my word, Winyard's coolness is admirable," said Lord Gascoigne, "and I would bet an even hundred that he is right. Georgina, as he calls her, I dare say understands a thing or two by this time, and knows how to hoodwink Glenmore." No sooner had Lord Albert handed Lady Glenmore into her carriage, than he returned swiftly, with a faint, sickening hope that he might not yet be too late to catch at least one precious look more of Adeline; nor was he disappointed, for he met her suddenly, standing near the door with her party. Addressing Lady Delamere with an _empressement_ of manner, and an intonation of voice, that spoke the temper of his soul, his eyes fixed upon Lady Adeline's, he scarcely knew what it was he said to Lady Delamere, till the extreme coldness of the latter, and her marked asperity of reply, checked the flow of his feelings, and he remained mute and abashed, when the silver sound of Lady Adeline's voice, inquiring for Lady Glenmore, re-animated him. "The heat was overpowering," she observed, "and she could not be surprised that any one had fainted; she herself had suffered from it."