ss you chance to dine at the Archbishop of York's.'

'I am not going to dine with the Archbishop of York,' said Lady
Constance, 'but I am going, where everybody else is going, to breakfast
with Mrs. Guy Flouncey, at Craven Cottage. Why, will not you be there?'

'I have not the honour of knowing her,' said Tancred.

'That is not of the slightest consequence; she will be very happy to
have the honour of knowing you. I saw her in the dancing-room, but it
is not worth while waiting to speak to her now. You shall receive an
invitation the moment you are awake.'

'But to-morrow I have an engagement. I have to look at a yacht.'

'But that you can look at on Monday; besides, if you wish to know
anything about yachts, you had better speak to my brother, Fitz-Heron,
who has built more than any man alive.'

'Perhaps he has one that he wishes to part with?' said Tancred.

'I have no doubt of it. You can ask him tomorrow at Mrs. Guy
Flouncey's.'

'I will. Lady Charmouth's carriage is called. May I have the honour?'
said Tancred, offering his arm.

CHAPTER XIII.

_A Feminine Diplomatist_

THERE is nothing so remarkable as feminine influence. Although the
character of Tancred was not completely formed--for that result depends,
in some degree, upon the effect of circumstances at a certain time of
life, as well as on the impulse of a natural bent--still the temper of
his being was profound and steadfast. He had arrived, in solitude and
by the working of his own thought, at a certain resolution, which had
assumed to his strong and fervent imagination a sacred character, and
which he was determined to accomplish at all costs. He had brought
himself to the point that he would not conceive an obstacle that should
baulk him. He had acceded to the conditions which had been made by his
parents, for he was by nature dutiful, and wished to fulfil his-purpose,
if possible, with their sanction.

Yet he had entered society with repugnance, and found nothing in its
general tone with which his spirit harmonised. He was alone in the
crowd; silent, observing, and not charmed. There seemed to him generally
a want of simplicity and repose; too much flutter, not a little
affectation. People met in the thronged chambers, and interchanged brief
words, as if they were always in a hurry. 'Have you been here long?
Where are you going next?' These were the questions which seemed to form
the staple of the small talk of a fashionable mult