"What rare and touching humility," laughed a fair-haired officer. "I should like to see this paragon."
At that moment they were joined by a tall, handsome man, who, until that moment, had been standing alone at the billiard-table, practicing a stroke he wished to master. He sauntered to the little group.
"I have not heard one word that you have been saying, but from the peculiar expression of Piercy's face, I would wager that you are talking of beauty in some shape or other," he said.
"We are talking of a new star which has suddenly arisen in the fashionable skies—the beautiful, golden-haired Lady Studleigh, Lord Linleigh's daughter."
"What of her?" asked Lord Charles Vivianne. "If anything interesting, tell me quickly. At this moment the click of the billiard-balls is sweeter to my ears than the praise of fair woman."
"It is my opinion," said Colonel Clifford, laughing, "that in Vivianne's case 'a burnt child dreads the fire.' A little bird whispered to me some romantic story about Florence and some lovely being to whom he was devoted there."
Lord Vivianne turned fiercely on him—so fiercely that those present looked grave.
"It would be as well for you, Clifford," he said, "to refrain from talking of that which does not concern you."
"My dear boy," replied the colonel, "I meant no harm. If I had known that Florence was a sore subject with you I would not have touched upon it."
"Who said it was a sore subject?" cried Lord Vivianne, passionately.