lessly. "This day week," he said--shook
himself--and went his way.

CHAPTER VI.

FRESH TOUCHES TO THE THREE VIGNETTES FOR THE BOOK OF BEAUTY.

Weeks passed--the London season was beginning--Darrell had decided
nothing--the prestige of his position was undiminished,--in politics,
perhaps higher. He had succeeded in reconciling some great men; he had
strengthened--it might be saved--a jarring cabinet. In all this he had
shown admirable knowledge of mankind, and proved that time and disuse
had not lessened his powers of perception. In his matrimonial designs,
Darrell seemed more bent than ever upon the hazard--irresolute as
ever on the choice of a partner. Still the choice appeared to be
circumscribed to the fair three who had been subjected to Colonel
Morley's speculative criticism--Lady Adela, Miss Vipont, Flora Vyvyan.
Much pro and con might be said in respect to each. Lady Adela was so
handsome that it was a pleasure to look at her; and that is much when
one sees the handsome face every day,--provided the pleasure does
not wear off. She had the reputation of a very good temper; and the
expression of her countenance confirmed it. There, panegyric stopped;
but detraction did not commence. What remained was inoffensive
commonplace. She had no salient attribute, and no ruling passion.
Certainly she would never have wasted a thought on Mr. Darrell, nor have
discovered a single merit in him, if he had not been quoted as a very
rich man of high character in search of a wife, and if her father had
not said to her: "Adela, Mr. Darrell has been greatly struck with your
appearance--he told me so. He is not young, but he is still a very fine
looking man, and you are twenty-seven. 'Tis a greater distinction to be
noticed by a person of his years and position, than by a pack of silly
young fellows, who think more of their own pretty faces than they would
ever do of yours."

"If you did not mind a little disparity of years, he would make you a
happy wife; and, in the course of nature, a widow, not too old to enjoy
liberty, and with a jointure that might entitle you to a still better
match."

Darrell thus put into Lady Adela's head, he remained there, and became
an _idee fixe_. Viewed in the light of a probable husband, he was
elevated into an "interesting man." She would have received his
addresses with gentle complacency; and, being more the creature of habit
than impulse, would no doubt, in the intimacy of connubial