Once when an unfortunate adorer--in bitterness of spirit at being thrown over twice in one evening--hinted at some of the intrigues which had made Guy's name unenviably notorious (play was not the guiltiest of his distractions to thoughts that would come back), Miss Bellasys only smiled haughtily, and did not even deign to betray any curiosity on the subject. Those ephemeral passions were not the rivals she feared.
Her mother all this time was very uncomfortable. Though herself perfectly innocent of any connivance in Flora's schemes, she was afflicted with a perpetual indistinct sort of remorse. Once or twice, I believe, she did venture on a remonstrance, but she was put down decisively, and did not try it again.
One evening Guy had been lingering for some time in the Bellasys' box at the Opera. As he went out into the _foyer_ he saw an old acquaintance coming toward him.
Lord Killowen was past sixty: the world had used him roughly, and he had been ruined very early in life, but he bore both years and troubles lightly. Looking at his smooth forehead, and square, erect figure, and listening to his ready, cheery laugh, you would never have guessed how long he had led that guerrilla existence--for forty years keeping the bailiffs at bay. His nerve and his seat in the saddle were as firm as they were on the first night of his joining the ---- Hussars, when he rode Kicking Kate over the iron pales round Hounslow Barrack-yard, and hit the layers of the long odds for a cool thousand.
He had been intimate with Colonel Livingstone, and had known his son from childhood; but he was a still closer friend of the Brandon family, with whom, indeed, he was distantly connected. He had never seen Guy since the breaking off of the latter's engagement till this night, when he caught a glimpse of his lofty head bending over Flora Bellasys' chair.
Lord Killowen's blood was as hot and his impulses as quick as if he had not yet seen his twentieth winter, and the chivalry within him was stirred at what he considered an insolent parade of treachery; for he had guessed much of what had happened, though he did not know all the truth; so he passed Guy's extended hand, turning his head studiously aside.