Then, seeing that in all probability a quarrel would ensue, Major Maitland interfered.
"We are forgetting the subject under discussion," he said. "You asked me what it was, Lord Vivianne. We were speaking of the wonderful beauty of Lady Studleigh, the handsome earl's daughter. Have you seen her yet?"
"No," he replied, "I have not."
"Then, by all means, contrive to do so. The Prince of B—— is almost wild about her. Every one ought to see her, just to know what a really beautiful woman is like."
Then Colonel Clifford, anxious to make up the quarrel, went off in a long and rapturous description of the fair lady's beauty and grace.
"I shall be sure to see her," said Lord Vivianne, briefly. "To tell the truth, I do not feel much interested. A beautiful face is a rarity, and the chances are ten to one the owner is either a simpleton or a flirt. I, for one, shall not offer my admiration at the new beauty's shrine. Au revoir."
And with his usual proud, careless step, Lord Vivianne walked away. The others looked curiously after him.
"I never saw a man so completely changed in all my life," said Colonel Clifford. "He used to be so good-humored, fond of a jest, and able to bear any amount of teasing; and now, one word, and he is like a madman. I shall begin to think what I have heard of him is true."
"What is that?" asked the Honorable Charlie Balsover.
"I was told that he fell in love at Florence. I did not hear all the particulars, but I was told that he completely lost his heart there."