think," she said, "that you have made a conquest. Silly child, Lord Glenarvon is merely playing upon your vanity." Lady Augusta whispered congratulations: Sophia hoped she was pleased with her morning walk; Sir Everard coldly asked her if she had beheld his niece, and then, with a sneer at Lord Glenarvon, said it was vastly pleasant to depend upon certain people's promises.
All this time Calantha felt not grieved: Glenarvon had said he loved her: it was enough: his attachment was worth all else beside; and Lord Avondale's increasing neglect and coldness steeled her heart against the crime of inconstancy.
Before supper, Glenarvon took an opportunity of speaking to her. "If you accept my friendship," he said frowning, "I must be obeyed:—you will find me a master—a tyrant perhaps; not a slave. If I once love, it is with fervor—with madness. I must have no trifling, no rivals. The being I worship must be
