od!"

With these words he turned on his heel, and, not yet despairing, sought
the daughter. He found Miss Brandon just released from dancing, and
with a kind of paternal gallantry, he offered his arm to parade the
apartments. After some preliminary flourish, and reference for the
thousandth time to his friendship for William Brandon, the earl spoke
to her about that "fine-looking young man who called himself Captain
Clifford."

Unfortunately for Mauleverer, he grew a little too unguarded, as
his resentment against the interference of Clifford warmed with his
language, and he dropped in his anger one or two words of caution, which
especially offended the delicacy of Miss Brandon.

"Take care how I encourage, my lord!" said Lucy, with glowing cheeks,
repeating the words which had so affronted her, "I really must beg
you--"

"You mean, dear Miss Brandon," interrupted Mauleverer, squeezing her
hand with respectful tenderness, "that you must beg me to apologize
for my inadvertent expression. I do most sincerely. If I had felt less
interest in your happiness, believe me, I should have been more guarded
in my language."

Miss Brandon bowed stiffly, and the courtier saw, with secret rage, that
the country beauty was not easily appeased, even by an apology from Lord
Mauleverer. "I have seen the time," thought he, "when young unmarried
ladies would have deemed an affront from me an honour! They would have
gone into hysterics at an apology!" Before he had time to make his
peace, the squire joined them; and Lucy, taking her father's arm,
expressed her wish to return home. The squire was delighted at the
proposition. It would have been but civil in Mauleverer to offer his
assistance in those little attentions preparatory to female departure
from balls. He hesitated for a moment. "It keeps one so long in those
cursed thorough draughts," thought he, shivering. "Besides, it is just
possible that I may not marry her, and it is no good risking a cold
(above all, at the beginning of winter) for nothing!" Fraught with this
prudential policy, Mauleverer then resigned Lucy to her father, and
murmuring in her ear that "her displeasure made him the most wretched of
men," concluded his adieu by a bow penitentially graceful.

About five minutes afterwards, he himself withdrew. As he was wrapping
his corporeal treasure in his roquelaire of sables, previous to
immersing himself in his chair, he had the mortification of seeing Lucy,
who wit