“He is a friend of the family,” he said to himself, with a sneer. “He is smitten with Miss Wilton’s beauty, and he expects to cunningly worm himself into her good graces, and so make her his wife. Bah! she would never willingly sacrifice herself to him--no, no! I don’t like the fellow; I don’t like the expression of his eyes. They have a dangerous, snake-like character. _N’importe!_--I can cope with him, I think; but if I fail by art, it will not be difficult to goad him by insult into a challenge. Fourteen paces and a firm hand will settle the matter between us for ever.” So Flora, immediately after the advent of Lester Vane, found her society courted, both by him and Colonel Mires, with a solicitude and an earnestness which quickly became embarrassing to her. Her father passed a great deal of his time alone in his library; his restoration to the society of his books was one of the happiest conditions in his change from poverty to wealth; he hardly knew how enough to indulge in those treasures of art and science thus repossessed, and which had been his passion in former times. Flora was thus left to the--it might almost be said--importunities of her father’s guests: for though both, as well-bred men, did not exceed the strict rules of good society, yet they took every occasion to make her see and to understand, that their attentions were dictated by something warmer than the impulses of common friendship. She had one protection in the fact, that the rivalry existing between these lovers made each take every precaution that the other should not have the satisfaction and the advantage of a _tête-à-tête_ with the object of their mutual passion, and this was even extended to her out-door excursions. Lester Vane, at times, watched and followed her, but he had scarcely reached her side, when they were joined by Mires, who would, on no suggestion or hint from Vane, quit the pair until the house was reached, and Flora had retired to her own apartment. This occurred several times. Flora began to feel distressed and alarmed. Not any direct profession of love had fallen from the lips of either, but it was impossible for her not to comprehend, by the devoted attentions, the fervent language, and the ardent looks addressed to her by each, that these professions would be made, and at no distant period. Thus she began to contract the duration of her stay in the presence of her father’s guests, and to so contrive her rambles that they should take place at periods when she was likely to be secure from interruption. She grew pale and melancholy, was often abstracted while in the company of those who sought exclusively to occupy her attention; and, without being marked in her increasing desire for seclusion, she presented herself in the drawing-room or dining-room only when she could not well escape the duties of her position.