eing really desirous of appearing to
advantage, and leaving an impression in his favour, his manner was even
divested of that somewhat imposing coldness which was not altogether
ineffective. In short, he was rather disagreeable. The Duke was
courteous, as he usually was, and ever to the Da-cres, but he was not
cordial. He disliked Arundel Dacre; in a word, he looked upon him as
his favoured rival. The two young men occasionally met, but did not grow
more intimate. Studiously polite the young Duke ever was both to him
and to his lovely cousin, for his pride concealed his pique, and he was
always afraid lest his manner should betray his mind.

In the meantime Sir Lucius Grafton apparently was running his usual
course of triumph. It is fortunate that those who will watch and wonder
about everything are easily satisfied with a reason, and are ever quick
in detecting a cause; so Mrs. Dallington Vere was the fact that duly
accounted for the Baronet's intimacy with the Dacres. All was right
again between them. It was unusual, to be sure, these _rifacimentos_;
still she was a charming woman; and it was well known that Lucius had
spent twenty thousand on the county. Where was that to come from, they
should like to know, but from old Dallington Vere's Yorkshire estates,
which he had so wisely left to his pretty wife by the pink paper
codicil?

And this lady of so many loves, how felt she? Most agreeably, as all
dames do who dote upon a passion which they feel convinced will be
returned, but which still waits for a response. Arundel Dacre would
yield her a smile from a face more worn by thought than joy; and Arundel
Dacre, who was wont to muse alone, was now ever ready to join his cousin
and her friends in the ride or the promenade. Miss Dacre, too, had
noticed to her a kindly change in her cousin's conduct to her father. He
was more cordial to his uncle, sought to pay him deference, and seemed
more desirous of gaining his good-will. The experienced eye, too, of
this pretty woman allowed her often to observe that her hero's presence
was not particularly occasioned, or particularly inspired, by his
cousin. In a word, it was to herself that his remarks were addressed,
his attentions devoted, and often she caught his dark and liquid eye
fixed upon her beaming and refulgent brow.

Sir Lucius Grafton proceeded with that strange mixture of craft and
passion which characterised him. Each day his heart yearned more for the
being on who