She had been left alone, and whilst no future affection could equal her first, earliest love, still the nearest akin to it had been that for Lord Wentworth; once more she had been thrown off, and this time not death, but falsehood had been the severer! She had been driven from her last resting place, and she was now like the dove flitting over a cold weary waste, which wist not where to rest her feet. The olive branch was gone, and she was desolate! In this desertion too her ambition had been stricken--her pride had received a blow! She had fancied her beauty would have been the means and instrument of raising her to this pitch of fancied bliss. She had lived to see her beauty despised--lived to see her power worthless--and now what was all the wealth--what all the luxury--he had given, when the giver cared for her no more? All that she could wish seemed round her, but in the midst of all the owner was the only being whose smile belied her heart! The only one of all who praised her beauty who was in spirit not sad--but miserable! Tossing the unfinished novel aside Juana rose, sighed deeply, and sauntering towards the open window, which she raised still higher, gazed out on the streets down which the watchmen were strolling with their lanterns. She then returned to the mirror, exclaiming, "Ah! ha! how tired I am--I would I were dead--what is all now without thee?" For some moments she looked on the Earl's picture with great earnestness--then she rang the bell, and when the footman appeared, said--"Bring some refreshments, William--you may clear the table, and put them there--and see that the wines are iced." "Dear me," she exclaimed half aloud, as a pretty little timepiece on the mantelshelf struck ten--"how late they are!--I expected them an hour ago?" The footman had just spread out a cold collation, served on silver plate, when the door bell rang, and almost immediately afterwards appeared the expected visitors. Our readers will not be surprised to hear them announced as Captains de Vere and L'Estrange. "Well, gentlemen," said Juana, putting on a smile so sweet we could hardly imagine her so soon capable of assuming, "you are exceedingly punctual--just one hour and ten minutes after the time." "We crave your pardon, fair Juana, but the delay was unavoidable," said L'Estrange, advancing and shaking hands. "You should put that in the singular, L'Estrange. I care little how long I keep people waiting, and in the case of ladies always make up with a kiss," said the Captain, bestowing one on the fair Spaniard's cheek. "And how do you do when ladies keep you waiting, Captain de Vere?" said Juana. "Never wait for them, or if they be refractory give them something to mend their memory and manners another time! I see you are all prepared, Juana, at any rate. Here, sirrah!" addressing the servant, "is the wine properly iced?" "Yes, your honour. Can I do anything else?"