Lucy, less alive than usual to the sentimental, or its reverse, scarcely perceived his meaning, and answered simply that it was very true.

"This comes of being, like my friend Burke, too refined for one's audience," thought Mauleverer, wincing a little from the unexpected reply.

"And yet!" he resumed, "I would not forego my power to admire, futile, nay, painful as it is.

Even now, while I gaze on you, my heart tells me that the pleasure I enjoy, it is at your command at once and forever to blight into misery; but while it tells me, I gaze on!" Lucy raised her eyes, and something of her natural archness played in their expression.
"I believe, my lord," said she, moving from the hut, "that it would be better to join your guests: walls have ears; and what would be the gay Lord Mauleverer's self-reproach if he heard again of his fine compliments to--" "The most charming person in Europe!" cried Mauleverer, vehemently; and the hand which he before touched he now clasped.

At that instant Lucy saw opposite to her, half hid by a copse of evergreens, the figure of Clifford.