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And two of the occupants of Mr. Bertram's box were indulging much the
same thought. Lionel's handsome face wore a warmer look than
ordinarily, as he chatted to Vaura, leaning on the back of her chair.
"She has the vivacity of the French woman, with a beauty all her own,"
he thought. "Her voice holds me, and my love of the beautiful is
satisfied, as I look on her sweet mouth and warm eyes; but, pshaw, she
is a flirt, and I am almost in her toils! what is coming over me?" and
he gave a start as he almost spoke the last thought aloud.
"Why, what is the matter Capt, Trevalyon?" asked Vaura; "you started
just now as though you had seen a ghost of the departed; a moment ago
you seemed to be enjoying the play, but now you look melancholy; go
over to Mrs. Wingfield. You see, _cher ami_, you do not credit to my
powers of pleasing; so avaunt. But," she added, "you may come back
some other time."
"You deserve better company than I, just now, _ma belle_, and Everly
is aching to be with you." And rising, he took the chair Everly
vacated, near Mrs.


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