“By George!” he said one morning, when Sir Magnus had just left the outer office, which he had entered with the object of giving some instruction as to the day’s ride, “take her altogether, I never saw a girl so fit as Miss Mountjoy.”  There was something very remarkable in this speech, as, according to his usual habit of life, Anderson would certainly have called her Florence, whereas his present appellation showed an unwonted respect.

“What do you mean when you say that a young lady is fit?” said Mr. Blow.

“I mean that she is right all round, which is a great deal more than can be said of most of them.”

“The divine Florence—­” began Mr. Montgomery Arbuthnot, struggling to say something funny.

“Young man, you had better hold your tongue, and not talk of young ladies in that language.”

“I do believe that he is going to fall in love,” said Mr. Blow.

“I say that Miss Mountjoy is the fittest girl I have seen for many a day; and when a young puppy calls her the divine Florence, he does not know what he is about.”

“Why didn’t you blow Mr. Blow up when he called her a Bird of Paradise?” said Montgomery Arbuthnot.  “Divine Florence is not half so disrespectful of a young lady as Bird of Paradise.  Divine Florence means divine Florence, but Bird of Paradise is chaff.”

“Mr. Blow, as a married man,” said Anderson, “has a certain freedom allowed him.  If he uses it in bad taste, the evil falls back upon his own head.  Now, if you please, we’ll change the conversation.”  From this it will be seen that Mr. Anderson had really fallen in love with Miss Mountjoy.

But though the week had passed in a harmless way to Sir Magnus and Lady Mountjoy,—­in a harmless way to them as regarded their niece and their attache,—­a certain amount of annoyance had, no doubt, been felt by Florence herself.  Though Mr. Anderson’s expressions of admiration had been more subdued than usual, though he had endeavored to whisper his love rather than to talk it out loud, still the admiration had been both visible and audible, and especially so to Florence herself.  It was nothing to Sir Magnus with whom his attache flirted.  Anderson was the younger son of a baronet who had a sickly elder brother, and some fortune of his own.  If he chose to marry the girl, that would be well for her; and if not, it would be quite well that the young people should amuse themselves.  He expected Anderson to help to put him on his horse, and to ride with him at the appointed hour.  He, in return, gave Anderson his dinner and as much wine as he chose to drink.  They were both satisfied with each other, and Sir Magnus did not choose to interfere with the young man’s amusements.  But Florence did not like being the subject of a young man’s love-making, and complained to her mother.