Alfred Gayerson, her brother and my earliest friend, was now in Vienna.

Isabella had no one to advise her.

She was, I suppose, a forerunner of the advanced young women of to-day, who, with a diminutive knowledge of the world culled from the imaginative writings of females as ignorant, are pleased to consider themselves competent to steer a clean course over the shoals of life.
Isabella had had, as I understood, a certain experience of the ordinary fortune-hunters of society--pleasant enough fellows, no doubt, but lacking self-respect and manhood--and it seemed extraordinary that her eyes should be closed to Mr.Devar's manifold qualifications to the title.
"Perhaps," she said at length, "you also will do us the pleasure of dining with us on Thursday, as you appear to be so deeply interested in Mr.Devar despite your assurances to the contrary." "I shall be most happy to do so," answered I--ungraciously, I fear--and there arose a sudden light, almost of triumph, to her usually repressed glance.
Alphonse Giraud acceded to my suggestion that he should walk with me towards my club.

His manner towards me had been reserved and unnatural, and I wished to get to the bottom of his feeling in respect to one whom he had always treated as a friend.

Isabella was the only person to suggest an objection to my proposal, reminding Alphonse, rather pointedly, that he had but time to dress for dinner.
"Well," I said, when we were turning into Piccadilly, "Miste has begun to give us a scent at last." "It is not so much in Monsieur Miste as in the money that I am interested," answered Giraud, swinging his cane, and looking about him with a simulated interest in his surroundings.
"Ah!" "Yes; and I am beginning to be convinced that I shall never see either." "Indeed." "Let us quit an unpleasant subject," said the Frenchman, after a pause, and in the manner of one seeking to avoid an impending quarrel.
"What splendid horses you have in England! See that pair in the victoria?
one could not tell them apart.