is dreaming in pensive
solitude. Poor fellow! Allow me to leave you for a few minutes, while I
avail myself of those few minutes to converse with Miss Lucy Stewart, to
whom I have something to say." And then, bowing to Lucy, he added: "Will
you do me the honor to accept my hand, in order that I may lead you to
the king, who is waiting for us?" With these words, Buckingham, still
smiling, took Miss Stewart's hand, and led her away. When by herself,
Mary Grafton, her head gently inclined toward her shoulder, with that
indolent gracefulness of action which distinguishes young English girls,
remained for a moment with her eyes fixed on Raoul, but as if uncertain
what to do. At last, after first blushing violently, and then turning
deadly pale, thus revealing the internal combat which assailed her
heart, she seemed to make up her mind to adopt a decided course, and,
with a tolerably firm step, advanced toward the seat on which Raoul was
reclining, buried in the profoundest meditation, as we have already
said. The sound of Miss Mary's steps, though they could be hardly heard
upon the green sward, awakened Raoul from his musing attitude: he turned
round, perceived the young girl, and walked forward to meet the
companion whom his happy destiny had thrown in his way.

"I have been sent to you, monsieur," said Mary Grafton; "will you accept
me?"

"To whom is my gratitude due, for so great a happiness?" inquired Raoul.

"To the Duke of Buckingham," replied Mary, affecting a gayety she did
not really feel.

"To the Duke of Buckingham, do you say?--he who so passionately seeks
your charming society! Am I really to believe you are serious,
mademoiselle?"

"The fact is, monsieur, you perceive that everything seems to conspire
to make us pass the best, or rather the longest, part of our days
together. Yesterday, it was the king who desired me to beg you to seat
yourself next to me at dinner; to-day, it is the Duke of Buckingham who
begs me to come and place myself near to you on this seat."

"And he has gone away in order to leave us together?" asked Raoul, with
some embarrassment.

"Look yonder, at the turning of that path; he is just out of sight, with
Miss Stewart. Are these polite attentions usual in France, Monsieur le
Comte?"

"I cannot very precisely' say what people do in France, mademoiselle,
for I can hardly be called a Frenchman. I have resided in many
countries, and almost always as a soldier; and then, I have spe