"I don't belong to White's."
"Nevertheless, you may have heard of him,—a foreigner, a Count di
Peschiera."
"Yes," said Lord Lansmere; "he was pointed out to me in the Park,—a handsome man for a foreigner; wears his hair properly cut; looks gentlemanlike and English."
"Ah, ah! He is here then!" and Harley rubbed his hands.
"Which road did you take? Did you pass the Simplon?"
"No; I came straight from Vienna."
Then, relating with lively vein his adventures by the way, he continued to delight Lord Lansmere by his gayety till the time came to retire to rest. As soon as Harley was in his own room his mother joined him.
"Well," said he, "I need not ask if you like Miss Digby? Who would not?"
"Harley, my own son," said the mother, bursting into tears, "be happy your own way; only be happy, that is all I ask."
Harley, much affected, replied gratefully and soothingly to this fond injunction. And then gradually leading his mother on to converse of Helen, asked abruptly, "And of the chance of our happiness,—her happiness as well as mine,—what is your opinion? Speak frankly."