Lord Albert made some answer, expressive of concern for her; and gazing at her with unrepressed tenderness, he remarked the myrtle sprig in her breast; for it was associated in his mind with some recollections that made it, in his estimation, an object of infinite interest. At that instant it dropped on the ground. He stooped to recover it hastily; and as he half tendered to restore it to her, said, "Its freshness was surprising, considering the atmosphere it had been in for so many hours; yet not so, neither," he added, "when I remember where it has been placed: but it is not worthy of such felicity. Allow me to retain it, for I, at least, can envy and appreciate its happy fate." A glow of lustrous joy illumined Lady Adeline's countenance; and if before the agitation of doubt and sorrow had shook her frame, an emotion not less intense, though proceeding from feelings the very opposite, now affected her. "Far as distress the soul can wound, 'Tis pain in each degree: 'Tis bliss but to a certain bound; Beyond is agony." Her emotion could not escape Lord Albert's observation, nor could he mistake its cause. With all the warmth of renewed and genuine affection, he again whispered to her, "Adeline, will you be at home to-night if I come?" Before she could reply, Lady Delamere's carriage was called. She turned rather abruptly to Lady Adeline, saying, "Adeline, come; the carriage waits;" and at the same instant Mr. Foley, who had been in quest of it, joined them, as though in much haste. "If you delay an instant, Lady Delamere," he said, "your carriage must drive off, and then it is difficult to tell when you may get away." "Adeline," cried Lady Delamere, speaking authoritatively, "take Mr. Foley's arm." And at the same time courtesying coldly to Lord Albert, she showed him his attendance was not desired, and hurried after her niece and daughters; for Lady Adeline, confused and agitated, had only time to cast a look at Lord Albert, and was in a manner obliged to suffer herself to be led away by Mr. Foley. Lord Albert stood for a moment like a statue: the sprig of myrtle, however, was in his hand, or he might have fancied he had dreamed the scene, so quickly had it passed. "What can this mean?" he said to himself, lingering on the spot where Lady Adeline had parted from him, quite unconscious of the crowd that passed by him in all directions. But where is one more alone than in a crowd? His reverie, however, was speedily broken in upon by hearing Lady Hamlet Vernon's name loudly called; and the next instant, as she was passing, unattended, to go out, she said to him: