state in which happiness should be, if not found, at least sought,
whether by maid or man.

Mrs. Morley was extremely put out by this untoward result of the
diplomacy she had intrusted to the Colonel; and when, the next day, came
a very courteous letter from Graham, thanking her gratefully for the
kindness of her invitation, and expressing his regret briefly, though
cordially, at his inability to profit by it, without the most distant
allusion to the subject which the Colonel had brought on the _tapis_, or
even requesting his compliments to the Signoras Venosta and Cicogna, she
was more than put out, more than resentful,--she was deeply grieved.
Being, however, one of those gallant heroes of womankind who do not give
in at the first defeat, she began to doubt whether Frank had not rather
overstrained the delicacy which he said he had put into his "soundings."
He ought to have been more explicit. Meanwhile she resolved to call on
Isaura, and, without mentioning Graham's refusal of her invitation,
endeavour to ascertain whether the attachment which she felt persuaded
the girl secretly cherished for this recalcitrant Englishman were
something more than the first romantic fancy--whether it were
sufficiently deep to justify farther effort on Mrs. Morley's part to
bring it to a prosperous issue.

She found Isaura at home and alone; and, to do her justice, she exhibited
wonderful tact in the fulfilment of the task she had set herself.
Forming her judgment by manner and look--not words--she returned home,
convinced that she ought to seize the opportunity afforded to her by
Graham's letter. It was one to which she might very naturally reply, and
in that reply she might convey the object at her heart more felicitously
than the Colonel had done. "The cleverest man is," she said to herself,
"stupid compared to an ordinary woman in the real business of life, which