"We are equally sorry with yourself, dear Lord Albert! but we hope another time to be more fortunate." Another pause ensued. Lady Adeline's spirits again sank, but she continued her painful effort to rally, by talking more than ever to Mr. Foley; and Lord Albert, fancying that his presence was as irksome to her, as remaining longer was painful to himself, immediately took his leave, and left the house mortified, miserable, and out of humour with himself and the whole world. He had really stated the fact, in pleading public business as the cause of his declining Lady Dunmelraise's invitation; and he had hardly time to reach the House before the commencement of the debate. On arriving there, and soon after he had taken his seat, it was announced that the member was seriously indisposed who had been expected to give one of those explanations which (such is the low ebb of character among British statesmen of the present day) every one who has held part in the government of the country has latterly thought it necessary to make in vindication of his public conduct. The question was consequently put off; and the House, after some business of little importance, and moving for new writs for those members who had accepted situations under government, adjourned at an early hour.

Lord Albert found himself thus relieved from the tie which had prevented his accepting Lady Dunmelraise's invitation; but it was no longer a question with him, as it would have been under other circumstances, of returning to South Audley-street, and stating what had occurred to set him at liberty, and requesting to avail himself of the opportunity to receive the pleasure of dining there. This would have been the act of a healthful mind, but under the mental disease which now tormented him, he turned with scorn from the idea; for he saw every thing in a distorted point of view, and ascribed to Lady Dunmelraise and her daughter the unworthy design of intending to provoke him to a relinquishment of his engagement with the latter, either because they did not choose to break with him themselves, or because they were not, perhaps, yet sure of Mr. Foley's intentions. Nothing but jealousy could have raised such a suspicion, so unworthy of them and of himself, respecting persons so long known, so much and justly esteemed, so clearly loved: but what chimera is too monstrous not to be born of that fiend which had taken possession of him? Under this species of aberration, for it can be called by no milder name, he threw himself on his horse, rode off, careless whither he went, and found himself in the park.

All the élite of ton were congregated around Kensington Gardens, and amongst the carriages waiting, he observed Lady Hamlet Vernon's. In the turbulence of his emotions, and in the press of business during the morning, he now recollected that he had forgotten to tell her of his official situation, although he felt that from her at least he would meet with a sincere and lively participation in the satisfaction he experienced at the success of his opening career in the political world. But his heart was not satisfied; and, suffering under his fatal delusion, he needed the balm of kindness, and turned to her for its bestowal. Giving his horse, therefore, to his servant, he went into the Gardens with the intention of finding her. They met as she was on the point of leaving the party she was walking with, and returning to her carriage. He accosted her with a sort of interest in his manner which could not fail of being agreeable to her, and they continued walking and conversing earnestly on the subject which he briefly communicated to her.

So earnestly, indeed, did they discuss the matter, that they found themselves at length almost the only persons in the Gardens, and were reminded only, by this circumstance, of the lateness of the hour. Lady Hamlet Vernon, astonished, looked at her watch, and finding it past seven o'clock, said she must hasten home, as she had invited persons to dine with her, and pressed Lord Albert to join the party. This he promised to do; and he felt a kind of false pleasure in thinking he should, at least, be in the society of those who really valued him; for there was a sting of pique and mortification at his heart, which Lady Hamlet Vernon's conversation had not diminished, and which made him gladly seek refuge out of himself for consolation. After the dinner, the party broke up to go to Almack's, and Lord Albert D'Esterre, desœuvré and dissatisfied, was easily persuaded to accompany Lady Hamlet Vernon. On entering the room, the first person whom he recognised was Lady Delamere and her daughters. He bowed to them, and he thought they returned his bow coldly. This circumstance did not escape the observation of Lady Hamlet Vernon, and she talked of the Delameres in a way which, though quite untrue, Lord Albert was at the moment too much in a temper to listen to.

"I often wonder," she said, "if all the uninteresting persons were ejected from society, how few would be left. But I believe, if this were the case, the evil would only assume another shape; for an assembly like this, if all were perfect, would be the dullest thing in the world: it is the mixture which affords us amusement."

"Besides," rejoined Lord Albert, "le monde est plein de fous, et qui n'en veut pas voir doit demeurer tout seul, et cassèr son miroir."

Lady Hamlet Vernon did not quite like the possible application of the adage; but she endeavoured to turn the spleen which she saw was the feeling of the moment with him into the channel best adapted to her views. "It is not fools," she continued, "that I find so much fault with, as dull and insipid people. There is Lady Delamere, again, for instance, who is one of your good mammas walking about with her chickens, all so measured and so mime, that one is sure a happy erratum could never occur in their life or conversation. There is no hope that they will ever change, for they are 'content to dwell in decencies for ever.' Their very loves and hatreds are measured out by the square rule of fit and proper; and if the friend they liked best made any deviation from what they deemed the proper course, they would discard such an one from their favour. This I hold to be cold-hearted and selfish policy, sheltering itself under the mask of virtue; for the fact is, that half that class of people build their power upon a pretence to superiority in moral excellence, not for its own sake, I am certain, but for the sake of obtaining the favour of general opinion, which their slender means of agréments (they have sense enough to know) would never give them."

"Do you mean, then, to say, that all superiority of purity in conduct or character springs from such false and ignoble sources? That, dear Lady Hamlet, you know is impossible; for the same fountain cannot send forth sweet waters and bitter." Lady Hamlet Vernon felt that Lord Albert was not in a mood to pass lightly over any thing that was said on serious subjects, and quickly corrected herself, adding;

"Far be it from me to think that there are not some natures genuinely pure and noble. Mais ne vous en déplaise. I cannot endow that bonne pâte de femme with such brilliant investment. Lady Delamere, my dear Lord D'Esterre, is, as you must know, the dullest, heaviest person I ever conversed with; and allow me to tell you she can give herself sufficient airs of consequence. Nevertheless, I have known several instances in which she scrupled not to sacrifice persons that it suited her to put down. Au reste, I make no doubt she has all those good qualities which quizzes always teem with."

"Really," said Lord D'Esterre, "you astonish me! I thought at least she had been good-natured."