"Are you going, Edie?" said Lady Florence.
"I suppose so; you are going too, are you not?"
"Oh dear, yes; I do so long to see the wonderful pew; do you think, Wentworth, it will be altered all nicely now?"
"I fancy so; Taylor knows me too well now to neglect my orders again. Are you going?" continued Lord Wentworth, addressing a young man who then entered, followed by the Marquis of Arranmore.
This was Captain de Vere; to look at him one could not help calling him handsome: his dark eye, and closely-cut black hair gave him a military air—a dashing, soldierly appearance, and his height, which exceeded the Earl's slightly, combined with a splendid figure, gave him a fine manly mien; but there was something in his face cruel and unrelenting; his fierce moustache, and arched nose were those of a Roman, and in his eye there was the twinkle that told the libertine;—his handsomeness was that of a Nero, not so in its true significance.
"Going where?" he answered abruptly.
"To church," replied the Earl.
"See you d——d first," was the curt reply. "Nor will Arranmore; he and I are going to the barracks to look out Musgrave."
"Oh! John, you shouldn't swear so," said Lady Florence; "but where is Frank? perhaps he will come."
"How the devil should I know—I am not Frank's keeper?" answered the Captain, showing how little he cared for the reproof.