o refined society. He had been a guest at the occasional banquets of his uncle; but these were festivals of the Picts and Scots; rude plenty and coarse splendor, with n

d handsome St. Aldegonde.“And not at all shy,” said Lady Montairy, “though reserved.”“I admire deep-blue eyes with dark lashes,” said the duchess.Notwithstanding the decision of Lady Montairy, Lothair was scarcely free from embarrassment when he rejoined the ladies; and was so afraid of standing alone, or talking only to men, that he was almost on the point of finding refuge in his dinner-companions, had not he instinctively felt that this would have been a social blunder. But the duchess relieved him: her gracious glance caught his at the right moment, and she rose and met him some way as he advanced. The friends had arrived so late, that Lothair had had only time to make a reverence of ceremony before dinner.“It is not our first meeting,” said her grace; “but that you cannot remember.”“Indeed I do,” said Lothair, “and your grace gave me a golden heart.”“How can you remember such things,” exclaimed the duchess, “which I had myself forgotten!”“I have rather a good memory,” replied Lothair; “and it is not wonderful that I should remember this, for it is the only present that ever was made me.”The evenings at Brentham were short, but they were sweet.