how delighted you were with him the evening of the
_tableaux_ at Lady Westrophe's? There was something so elegant and
dignified in his bearing; so much ease and grace of manner; his address
was perfect--the confidence of a well-bred gentleman, subdued almost,
but not quite, into softness by the timidity of youth. This was thrown
into strong relief by the manners of the young men of the family, whose
habits and voices might have entitled them to take the lead, even now,
in the go-a-head school, which then was hardly in existence--at all
events in England."

"You were quite as much taken with him as I was."

"No, my dear, not _quite_. Edward Layton was especially suited for the
society of ladies. His tastes and feelings are--or _were_ at that
time--all sincerely refined; he was full of the impulse of talent, which
he never had strength to bring forth: his thoughts were ever wandering,
and he needed perpetual excitement, particularly the excitement of
beauty and music, to bring them and keep them where he _was_. He was
strongly and strangely moved by excellence of any kind, so that it _was_
excellence; and the only thing I ever heard him express contempt for was
wealth!--yes wealth!"

"I could not have believed it," said Mrs. Pierce Bradshaw again.

"That particular night it was whispered he was engaged to Lelia Medwin.
When she sung, he stood like a young Apollo at her harp, too entranced
to turn over the leaves of music, his eyes overflowing with delight, and
the poor little girl so bewitched by his attentions that she fancied
every whisper a declaration of love."

"Shameful!" said Mrs. Pierce Bradshaw.

"Then her mother showed every one what a lovely sketch he had made of
Lelia's head, adding, that indeed it was too lovely; but then, he was a
_partial_ judge."

"She was a silly woman," observed the lady.

"She would not have been considered so if they had been married,"
replied the gentleman. "Mammas have no mercy on each other in those
delicate manoeuvrings. Well, he waltzed with her always; and bent over
her--willow-fashion; looked with her at the moon; and wrote a sonnet
which she took to herself, for it was addressed 'To mine own dear ----;'
and then when, about eight weeks afterwards, we met him at the
_dejeuner_ at Sally Lodge, he was as entranced with Lizzie Grey's guitar
as he had been with Lelia's harp, sketched her little tiger head for her
grandmamma, waltzed with _her_, bent over _her_ willow-fashio