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but she is not quite the person I should cast for la Marquise de la Perdrigonde. Ah! if you were on the stage, Miss de Trappe! You have just the exquisite charm, the grace, the majesty of bearing which, in the opinion of those who have never been to Court, is the peculiar distinction of women accustomed to the highest society.

Julia.⁠Oh, I should like to be an actress!

Mandeville.⁠No! no! I spoke selfishly—if you only acted with me, it would be different; but—but I could not bear to see another man making love to you—another man holding your hand and singing into your eyes—and—and——— Oh, this is madness. You must not listen to me.

Julia.⁠I am not angry, but you must never again say things which you do not mean. If I thought you were untruthful it would make me so so miserable. Always tell me the truth.⁠[Holds out her hand.]

Mandeville.⁠You are very beautiful!

[She drops her eyes, smiles, and wanders unconsciously to the mirror.]

[Lady Doldrummond suddenly enters from the boudoir, and Cyril from the middle door. Cyril is handsome, but his features have that delicacy and his expression that pensiveness which promise artistic longings and domestic disappointment.]

Cyril.⁠[Cordially and in a state of suppressed excitement.]⁠Oh, mother, this is my friend Mandeville. You have heard me mention him?

Lady Dol.⁠I do not remember, but———

Cyril.⁠When I promised to go out with you this afternoon, I forgot that I had another engagement. Mandeville has been kind enough to call for me.