Chapter 29 - Page 2

willing to acknowledge to himself. The other could have heard of
him only from Eve and her father, and it was doubly grateful to be spoken
of favourably in such a quarter: he thought there was a consciousness in
the slight suffusion that appeared on the face of the daughter, which led
him to hope that even the latter had not considered him unworthy of
recollection; for he cared but little for the remembrances of Mr.
Effingham, if they could all be transferred to his child.

"This person, who does me the honour to relieve me from the trouble of
bearing my own name," he resumed, "cannot be of very lofty pretensions, or
he would have aspired higher. I suspect him of being merely one of those
silly young countrymen of mine, of whom so many crowd stage-coaches and
packets, to swagger over their less ambitious fellow-mortals with the
strut and exactions of the hour."

"And yet, apart from his folly in 'sailing under false colours,' as our
worthy captain would call it, the man seems well enough."

"A folly, cousin Jack," said Eve with laughing eyes though she maintained
a perfect demureness with her beautiful features--"that he shares in
common with so many others!"

"Very true, though I suspect he has climbed to commit it, while others
have been content to descend. The man himself behaved well yesterday,
showing steadiness as well as spirit in the fray."

"I forgive him his usurpation for his conduct on that occasion," returned
Mr. Sharp, "and wish with all my heart the Arabs had discovered less
affection for his curiosities. I should think that they must find
themselves embarrassed to ascertain the uses of some of their prizes; such
for instance, as the button-hooks, the shoe-horn, knives with twenty
blades, and other objects that denote a profound civilization."

"You have not spoken of your luck, Mr. Powis," added Mr. Effingham; "I
trust you have fared as well as most of us, though had they visited their
enemies according to the injury received from them, you would be among
the heaviest of the sufferers."

"My loss," replied Paul, mournfully, "is not much in pecuniary value,
though irreparable to me."

A look of concern betrayed the general interest, for as he really seemed
sad, there was a secret apprehension that his loss even exceeded that
which his words would give them reason to suppose. Perceiving the
curiosity that was awakened, and which was only suppressed by politeness,
the young man added,

"I miss a miniature that, to me, is of inestimable value."

Eve's heart throbbed, while her eyes sunk to the carpet. The others seemed
amazed, and after