Mr. Howard had been but a short time with the Osbornes when he was obliged to confess that he had made a mistake in coming.

A man of singular charm of manner, eminently gifted for social success, he had as little vanity as well might be; and his devotion to literature engendered in him a sort of absent-mindedness which rendered him unconscious of things which were sufficiently obvious to others.

He could scarcely himself have said what now opened his eyes in some measure to the nature of Miss Osborne's regard for him; for never before had it occurred to him that she entertained anything beyond an ordinary friendship—the very fact of her occasional efforts to flirt with him only confirming his confidence in her indifference and merely contributing to his amusement.

He had been but little pleased by her incursion into his dinner party; but had attributed it to her lack of variety in a dull neighbourhood and to the influence of Miss Carr, of whom he entertained but a slight opinion. The jealousy of Emma, which she had betrayed at the ball, he believed to be entirely owing to her brother's admiration of her—the connection being such as she could scarcely be expected to advocate.

The knowledge of her feelings occasioned him so much regret, that he would fain have left Italy then and there; but in view of the urgent invitations he had received from Lady Osborne and her son, this was scarcely possible. For the moment at least, he must remain where he was.

He began at once, however, to cast about for some excuse to shorten his stay; and presently urged his desire to prosecute his travels in Spain and Portugal. He had long desired to journey there, and there was now no impediment to his doing so, as his cousin, whose bedside he had attended, had bequeathed him a large fortune, independently of the handsome property to which he had succeeded as heir-presumptive; but, to his surprise, Lady Osborne withstood him, with flushed cheeks and tears in her eyes.

"Do not desert us the moment you have come," she said; "Osborne has seemed so much more composed since you joined us—I never before knew him to be so disquieted as he has been. I cannot but admire Miss Watson's conduct—had she chosen to accept him, nothing could have prevented the marriage. I had scarcely realised how serious his passion was until the night of the ball—after she had left us. He was quite in despair."

"I understand she is shortly to be married."

"Have you told Osborne?"

"No. He has not mentioned her name to me."

"Am I at liberty to tell him?"

"Certainly, madam; what object could be served in concealing it? Osborne could scarcely conceive the idea of rushing home to present a pistol at her lover's head!"

Later on in the evening, Lord Osborne entered the private sitting-room of his late tutor, and said abruptly—

"My mother has informed me of Miss Watson's engagement. To whom is she to be married?"

"That I cannot tell you."

"How came you to know?"

"Musgrave told me.'

"Musgrave! I would place monstrous little faith in anything he said!"

"He was certainly never my friend, but I understood him to be yours," replied Mr. Howard, coldly.

"What can a man do in that delectable neighbourhood?—He helps one to get through the time. I dare swear he made the whole thing up!" So saying, Lord Osborne swung out of the room.

He had not been long gone when there was a timid knock, and Miss Osborne entered with a book in her hand.

Mr. Howard rose and placed a chair for her; but did not sit down himself.

"I came to ask you if you would be so very good as to help me with this passage in Dante's Inferno," she said.

He read it at once without any hesitation, as the portion indicated presented no special difficulty that he could see; and he was constrained to wonder wherefore she had selected it—the truth being that she had opened the volume at random.

"I have just heard from Lady Osborne that Miss Watson is about to be married."

In spite of himself, he was obliged to smile.

"I regret that I have nothing to add to this thunderbolt!"

"You are quite sure that she is to be married?"

He was aware that she was watching him narrowly, and both his face and voice were entirely under control as he replied—

"I see no reason to doubt Mr. Musgrave's statement. He was just coming from the Rectory, and I know he was intimate with them."

"He was altogether mad with her for refusing to dance with him at our ball—Fanny Carr told me so."

Mr. Howard looked startled for a moment; and she proceeded—

"Fanny thought it showed a great want of breeding on her part to be so insolent to a guest of ours—she is not in a position to be disdainful of anyone—I should never think of calling her a lady."

She received no answer to this.

"Oh, I know you were vastly in love with her—I was quite expecting to have to congratulate you!"—with an attempt at archness.

Mr. Howard contented himself with bowing.

"I thought her rather handsome myself; but several gentlemen said to me that they did not at all think her anything out of the common."

This again was received in silence; and Julia Osborne, considerably mortified, and perfectly aware of Lady Osborne's displeasure, should she learn of her adventure, thought it best to retire to her room.

A few days later they were joined by Lord Edward Sothern, to whom Miss Osborne turned her attentions, and with much greater prospect of ultimate success.

This, however, was not at all what she desired; but to inflict some gentle damage on an unimpressive heart, which she should presently be called upon to repair. In vain was the snare laid; and she was shortly engaged in a flirtation which obliged Lady Osborne to compel her to accept the proposal which speedily followed, and was urged with insistence.

Julia Osborne was not a little incensed at the turn affairs had taken; and believing Mr. Howard to be the cause of all the mischief, felt that she had been barbarously used. Her resentment grew with reflection; and for a time nothing could appease her, although it was incumbent on her to dissemble her feelings. All this, however, had the salutary effect of estranging her from the first object of her affections; and by degrees the good-humour and attentions of her lover reconciled her to the hardship of her fate.