Brandon, now taking leave of his brother, mounted to the drawing-room in search of Lucy.

He found her leaning over the gilt cage of one of her feathered favourites, and speaking to the little inmate in that pretty and playful language in which all thoughts, innocent yet fond, should be clothed.

So beautiful did Lucy seem, as she was thus engaged in her girlish and caressing employment, and so utterly unlike one meet to be the instrument of ambitious designs, and the sacrifice of worldly calculations, that Brandon paused, suddenly smitten at heart, as he beheld her.

He was not, however, slow in recovering himself; he approached.

"Happy he," said the man of the world, "for whom caresses and words like these are reserved!" Lucy turned.