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ner of good counsel.
‘I shall not go till she does!’ And he let Lord Warburton
pass without giving him a look.
This nobleman, however, had noticed the melancholy
youth, and he asked Isabel who her dismal friend was, re-
marking that he had seen him somewhere before.
‘It’s the young man I’ve told you about, who’s in love with
Pansy.’
‘Ah yes, I remember. He looks rather bad.’
‘He has reason. My husband won’t listen to him.’
‘What’s the matter with him?’ Lord Warburton enquired.
‘He seems very harmless.’
‘He hasn’t money enough, and he isn’t very clever.’
Lord Warburton listened with interest; he seemed struck
with this account of Edward Rosier. ‘Dear me; he looked a
well-set-up young fellow.’
‘So he is, but my husband’s very particular.’
‘Oh, I see.’ And Lord Warburton paused a moment. ‘How
much money has he got?’ he then ventured to ask.
‘Some forty thousand francs a year.’
‘Sixteen hundred pounds? Ah, but that’s very good, you
know.’
‘So I think. My husband, however, has larger ideas.’
‘Yes; I’ve noticed that your husband has very large ideas.
Is he really an idiot, the young man?’
‘An idiot? Not in the least; he’s charming. When he was
twelve years old I myself was in love with him.’
‘He doesn’t look much more than twelve to-day,’ Lord
Warburton rejoined vaguely, looking about him. Then with

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