Still Her Majesty had not yet sent for Lady Bardolf.
She was still very good friends with Lord Masque, for he had social
influence, and could assist her; but as for poor Tadpole, she had sadly
neglected him, his sphere being merely political, and that being no
longer interesting. The honest gentleman still occasionally buzzed about
her, slavering portentous stories about malcontent country gentlemen,
mumbling Maynooth, and shaking his head at Young England. Tadpole was
wont to say in confidence, that for his part he wished Sir Robert had
left alone religion and commerce, and confined himself to finance, which
was his forte as long as he had a majority to carry the projects which
he found in the pigeon-holes of the Treasury, and which are always at
the service of every minister.
Well, it was at Lady Bardolfs ball, close upon midnight, that Tancred,
who had not long entered, and had not very far advanced in the crowded
saloons, turning his head, recognised his heroine of the morning,
his still more recent correspondent, Lady Bertie and Bellair. She was
speaking to Lord Valentine. It was impossible to mistake her; rapid as
had been his former observation of her face, it was too remarkable to
be forgotten, though the captivating details were only the result of his
present more advantageous inspection.
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