ar greater than the former. So,
after this, you cannot refuse to accompany me to her box and make her
acquaintance."

"Nay," answered Clarence, "I shall be too happy to profit by the taste
of so discerning a person; but it is cruel in you, Duke, not to feign
a little jealousy,--a little reluctance to introduce so formidable a
rival."

"Oh, as to me," said the duke, "I only like her for her mental, not
her personal, attractions. She is very agreeable, and a little witty;
sufficient attractions for one in her situation."

"But do tell me a little of her history," said Clarence, "for, in spite
of her renown, I only know her as La belle Meronville. Is she not living
en ami with some one of our acquaintance?"

"To be sure," replied the duke, "with Lord Borodaile. She is
prodigiously extravagant; and Borodaile affects to be prodigiously fond:
but as there is only a certain fund of affection in the human heart, and
all Lord Borodaile's is centred in Lord Borodaile, that cannot really be
the case."

"Is he jealous of her?" said Clarence.

"Not in the least! nor indeed, does she give him any cause. She is very
gay, very talkative, gives excellent suppers, and always has her box at
the Opera crowded with admirers; but that is all. She encourages many,
and favours but one. Happy Borodaile! My lot is less fortunate! You
know, I suppose, that Julia has deserted me?"

"You astonish me,--and for what?"

"Oh, she told me, with a vehement burst of tears, that she was convinced
I did not love her, and that a hundred pounds a month was not sufficient
to maintain a milliner's apprentice. I answered the first assertion by
an assurance that I adored her: but I preserved a total silence with
regard to the latter; and so I found Trevanion tete-a-tete with her the
next day."

"What did you?" said Clarence.

"Sent my valet to Trevanion with an old coat of mine, my compliments,
and my hopes that, as Mr. Trevanion was so fond of my cast-off
conveniences, he would honour me by accepting the accompanying trifle."

"He challenged you, without doubt?"

"Challenged me! No: he tells all his friends that I am the wittiest man
in Europe."

"A fool can speak the truth, you see," said Clarence, laughing.

"Thank you, Linden; you shall have my good word with La Meronville for
that: mais allons."

Mademoiselle de la Meronville, as she pointedly entitled herself, was
one of those charming adventuresses, who, making the most of a
good educa