ort. As they approached Mrs.
Duffield's house, George, who had hitherto led the conversation, became
silent, or answered his brother only in monosyllables, and then not
always to the purpose. As they entered the hall, the hats and cloaks
displayed there showed that, as Henry supposed, they were not the
earliest visitors. George paused for a moment and said, "You must go in
without me, Henry. Show me to a room where there is no company," he
continued, turning to a servant--"and take this card in to Mrs.
Duffield--be sure to give it to Mrs. Duffield herself."

The servant bowed low to the commanding stranger; and Henry, almost
mechanically, obeyed his direction, muttering to himself, "Free and
easy, upon my honor." He had scarcely entered the usual reception-room
and made his bow to Mrs. Duffield, when the servant presented his
brother's card. He watched her closely, and saw a smile playing over her
lips as her eyes rested on it. She glanced anxiously at Miss Harcourt,
and crossing the room to a group in which she stood, she drew her aside.
After a few whispered words, Mrs. Duffield placed the card in Miss
Harcourt's hand. A sudden flash of joy irradiated every feature of her
beautiful face, and Henry Manning saw that, but for Mrs. Duffield's
restraining hand, she would have rushed from the room. Recalled thus to
a recollection of others, she looked around her, and her eyes met his.
In an instant, her face was covered with blushes, and she drew back with
embarrassed consciousness--almost immediately, however, she raised her
head with a proud, bright expression, and though she did not look at
Henry Manning, he felt that she was conscious of his observation, as she
passed with a composed yet joyous step from the room.

Henry Manning was awaking from a dream. It was not a very pleasant
awakening, but as his vanity rather than his heart was touched, he was
able to conceal his chagrin, and appear as interesting and agreeable as
usual. He now expected with some impatience the _denouement_ of the
comedy. An hour passed away, and Mrs. Duffield's eye began to consult
the marble clock on her mantel-piece. The chime for another half-hour
rang out; and she left the room and returned in a few minutes, leaning
on the arm of George Manning.

"Who is that?--What noble-looking man is that?" were questions Henry
Manning heard from many--from a very few only the exclamation, "How
oddly he is dressed!" Before the evening was over Henry beg