The glow that shone upon him as he spoke the words, so irradiated his features that he looked, for the time, as though he had never been mutilated. His friend responded as Eugene would have had him respond, and they discoursed of the future until Lizzie came back. After resuming her place at his side, and tenderly touching his hands and his head, she said:

“Eugene, dear, you made me go out, but I ought to have stayed with you. You are more flushed than you have been for many days. What have you been doing?”

“Nothing,” replied Eugene, “but looking forward to your coming back.”

“And talking to Mr. Lightwood,” said Lizzie, turning to him with a smile. “But it cannot have been Society that disturbed you.”

“Faith, my dear love!” retorted Eugene, in his old airy manner, as he laughed and kissed her, “I rather think it was Society though!”

The word ran so much in Mortimer Lightwood’s thoughts as he went home to the Temple that night, that he resolved to take a look at Society, which he had not seen for a considerable period.