w, but the lower part of the face indicated not
feebleness, but flexibility, and his mouth was somewhat sensuous. His
manner was at once winning; natural, and singularly unaffected, and
seemed to sympathise entirely with those whom he addressed.

"But I have never been at Hainault," said the gentleman, continuing
a conversation, "and therefore could not hear the nightingales. I am
content you have brought one of them to town."

"Nightingales disappear in June," said Miss Ferrars; "so our season will
be short."

"And where do they travel to?" asked the gentleman.

"Ah! that is a mystery," said Myra. "You must ask Miss Neuchatel."

"But she will not tell me," said the gentleman, for in truth Miss
Neuchatel, though he had frequently addressed her, had scarcely opened
her lips.

"Tell your secret, Adriana," said Miss Ferrars, trying to force her to
converse.

"Adriana!" said the gentleman. "What a beautiful name! You look with
that flower, Miss Neuchatel, like a bride of Venice."

"Nay," said Myra; "the bride of Venice was a stormy ocean."

"And have you a Venetian name?" asked the gentleman.

There was a pause, and then Miss Neuchatel, with an effort, murmured,
"She has a very pretty name. Her name is Myra."

"She seems to deserve it," said the gentleman.

"So you like my daughter's singing," said Mr. Neuchatel, coming up to
them. "She does not much like singing in public, but she is a very good
girl, and always gives me a song when I come home from business."

"Fortunate man!" said the gentleman. "I wish somebody would sing to me
when I come home from business."

"You should marry, my lord," said Mr. Neuchatel, "and get your wife to
sing to you. Is it not so, Miss Ferrars? By the by, I ought to introduce
you to--Lord Roehampton."

CHAPTER XXXIX

The Earl of Roehampton was the strongest member of the government,
except, of course, the premier himself. He was the man from whose
combined force and flexibility of character the country had confidence
that in all their councils there would be no lack of courage, yet
tempered with adroit discretion. Lord Roehampton, though an Englishman,
was an Irish peer, and was resolved to remain so, for he fully
appreciated the position, which united social distinction with the power
of a seat in the House of Commons. He was a very ambitious, and, as it
was thought, worldly man, deemed even by many to be unscrupulous, and
yet he was romantic. A great favourite in so