ecommendation, Lord Aspeden," said the minister, with a
bow, "the state would be a great loser did it not elect your attache,
who plays so admirably on the flute, to the office of your secretary.
Let us join the dancers."

"I shall go and talk with Count B----," quoth Mr. St. George.

"And I shall make my court to his beautiful wife," said the minister,
sauntering into the ballroom, to which his fine person and graceful
manners were much better adapted than was his genius to the cabinet or
his eloquence to the senate.

The morning had long dawned, and Clarence, for whose mind pleasure was
more fatiguing than business, lingered near the door, to catch one last
look of Lady Flora before he retired. He saw her leaning on the arm of
Lord Borodaile, and hastening to join the dancers with her usual light
step and laughing air; for Clarence's short conference with her had, in
spite of his subsequent flirtations, rendered her happier than she had
ever felt before. Again a change passed over Clarence's countenance,--a
change which I find it difficult to express without borrowing from those
celebrated German dramatists who could portray in such exact colours "a
look of mingled joy, sorrow, hope, passion, rapture, and despair;" for
the look was not that of jealousy alone, although it certainly partook
of its nature, but a little also of interest, and a little of sorrow;
and when he turned away, and slowly descended the stairs, his eyes were
full of tears, and his thoughts far--far away;--whither?

CHAPTER XXX.

Quae fert adolescentia
Ea ne me celet consuefeci filium.--TERENCE.

["The things which youth proposes I accustomed
my son that he should never conceal from me."]

The next morning Clarence was lounging over his breakfast, and glancing
listlessly now at the pages of the newspapers, now at the various
engagements for the week, which lay confusedly upon his table, when he
received a note from Talbot, requesting to see him as soon as possible.

"Had it not been for that man," said Clarence to himself, "what should
I have been now? But, at least, I have not disgraced his friendship. I
have already ascended the roughest because the lowest steps on the hill
where Fortune builds her temple. I have already won for the name I have
chosen some 'golden opinions' to gild its obscurity. One year more
may confirm my destiny and ripen hope into success: then--then, I may
perhaps throw off a disguise that, while it be