a pensive air, "this place is
greatly endeared to me. Here his Majesty Louis XVIII., when in England,
honoured me with an annual visit. In compliment to him, I sought to
model my poor mansion into an humble likeness of his own palace, so
that he might as little as possible miss the rights he had lost. His
own rooms were furnished exactly like those he had occupied at the
Tuileries. Yes, the place is endeared to me--I think of the old
times with pride. It is something to have sheltered a Bourbon in his
misfortunes."

"It cost _milord_ a vast sum to make these alterations," said Madame de
Ventadour, glancing archly at Maltravers.

"Ah, yes," said the old lord; and his face, lately elated, became
overcast--"nearly three hundred thousand pounds: but what then?--_'Les
souvenirs, madame, sont sans prix_!'"

"Have you visited Paris since the restoration, Lord Doningdale," asked
Maltravers.

His lordship looked at him sharply, and then turned his eye to Madame de
Ventadour.

"Nay," said Valerie; laughing, "I did not dictate the question."

"Yes," said Lord Doningdale, "I have been at Paris."

"His Majesty must have been delighted to return your lordship's
hospitality."

Lord Doningdale looked a little embarrassed, and made no reply, but put
his horse into a canter.

"You have galled our host," said Valerie, smiling. "Louis XVIII. and his
friends lived here as long as they pleased, and as sumptuously as
they could; their visits half ruined the owner, who is the model of a
_gentilhomme_ and _preux chevalier_. He went to Paris to witness
their triumph; he expected, I fancy, the order of the St. Esprit. Lord
Doningdale has royal blood in his veins. His Majesty asked him once
to dinner, and, when he took leave, said to him, 'We are happy, Lord
Doningdale, to have thus requited our obligations to your lordship.'
Lord Doningdale went back in dudgeon, yet he still boasts of his
_souvenirs_, poor man."

"Princes are not grateful, neither are republics," said Maltravers.

"Ah, who is grateful," rejoined Valerie, "except a dog and a woman?"

Maltravers found himself ushered into a vast dressing-room, and was
informed, by a French valet, that in the country Lord Doningdale dined
at six--the first bell would ring in a few minutes. While the valet was
speaking, Lord Doningdale himself entered the room. His lordship had
learned, in the meanwhile, that Maltravers was of the great and ancient
commoner's house whose honours were