While these persons thus passed their kindly comments, Lord Albert, Lord Glenmore, and Lady Hamlet Vernon walked about the gardens, and after a search of some time found Lady Tenderden, Lady Glenmore, and their party, who were laughing and talking gaily in the alcove _tapissé de jonquilles_. Mr. Leslie Winyard was playing with one of the long ribands that pended from Lady Glenmore's hat, and she seemed listening complacently to his conversation. The moment, however, that she beheld Lord Glenmore, she darted towards him, her face beaming with pleasure, and passing her arm through his, and looking up fondly in his face, said something in a low voice, to which he replied with answering tenderness; and as she continued to hang upon his arm, expressing her admiration of the _fête_, he appeared to enter into her delight, and to be as much amused as herself. "What perfection of duplicity!" whispered Lord Boileau to Lord Tonnerre, as they entered the alcove together, and witnessed this meeting. "And what a wide swallow _he_ has," replied the other; while Mr. Leslie Winyard, mortified at the interruption which Lord Glenmore's arrival had occasioned, but at the same time too much master of his art to evince his _real_ feeling, endeavoured to show himself satisfied with the semblance of a secret understanding between himself and Lady Glenmore as to her conduct towards her husband. "What perfection of duplicity!" repeated Lord Boileau, as he observed what passed, and as Mr. Winyard, approaching Lord Glenmore, addressed him in easy, familiar terms, making himself appear to be, as in all similar cases, and _selon tous les règles depuis tous les temps, l'ami de la maison_, and equally necessary to both parties. The whole scene did not pass unobserved by Lord Albert, who recollected what observations had been made before, by some of the same party, on Lady Glenmore at the drawing-room; and he felt he despised those who could thus lightly tamper with the honour of the man whose notice they courted, whose society they affected to like, and to whose intimacy they endeavoured to aspire. But it was a subject on which he could only think. Miserably, our best friends are frequently precluded, from circumstances, from being of the least use to us.