"We were just going to supper, my lord," said Mrs. Falkland; "will you come with us? But first let me introduce you to Colonel Manners." Lord Dewry acknowledged the introduction by a cold bow, while Manners said some words of course; and the question of supper being renewed, the nobleman agreed to go down with the party to the table, though he bestowed a word or two of heavy censure on the meal they were about to take. "It is, nevertheless," said Colonel Manners, "from its very hour, the most sociable one of the whole day; for by this time, in general, all the cares, and annoyances, and labours of the busy daylight are over; and, as is justly observed--I forget where--'nothing remains for us but enjoyment and repose.'" "Eating and sleep!" muttered Lord Dewry; "the delights of a hog and a squirrel;" but as what he said did not seem intended to be heard, Colonel Manners made no reply, though he did hear it; and the party seated themselves round the supper-table, in walking towards which these few sentences had passed. For some time the presence of the peer seemed destined to cast a gloom over the society in which he had so suddenly appeared. His manner even here, in the midst of his nearest relations, and by the side of his newly-returned son, was cold, stern, and gloomy, only broken by some flash of cynical scorn for things that other people valued, or by some biting sneer at the follies and weaknesses of his fellow-creatures. To his niece Marian de Vaux, however, his conduct was very different. At table he placed himself by her side; made an evident effort to render himself agreeable to her; and whenever he spoke to her softened his tone, and endeavoured to call up a smile. Such was his conduct on the present evening; but it maybe necessary also to stretch our view over the past, for his behaviour to his niece had always formed a strange contrast to his conduct towards others. The first effect of her presence, when he had not seen her for some time, was almost always to throw him into a fit of deep gloom; and those who watched him narrowly might have remarked his lip move, as if he were speaking to himself, though no sound was heard. From this fit of abstraction he generally roused himself soon, but it was evidently at the cost of great efforts; and then he would speak to his niece with a degree of tenderness which bordered on timidity, and treat her with attention approaching to gallantry. Any one who saw him in conversation with her might easily conceive him to have been the fascinating and courtly man that report had represented him in his younger days; and there was a kindness and gentleness in his whole demeanour towards her, which, together with the family name that she bore, had often caused her to be taken for his daughter. Nevertheless, even across the moments when he seemed exerting himself to please her, would break occasionally the same fits of gloom, called up by apparently the least calculated to produce any such effect.