not a
marrying man.'

There was a momentary pause, and Miss Dacre spoke.

'I like his brother steward, Bertha. Sir Lucius is witty and candid. It
is an agreeable thing to see a man who had been so gay, and who has had
so many temptations to be gay, turn into a regular domestic character,
without losing any of those qualities which made him an ornament to
society. When men of the world terminate their career as prudently as
Sir Lucius, I observe that they are always amusing companions, because
they are perfectly unaffected.'

'No one is more unaffected than Lucius Grafton. I am quite happy to find
you like him; for he is an old friend of mine, and I know that he has a
good heart.'

'I like him especially because he likes you.'

'Dearest!'

'He introduced me to Lady Afy. I perceive that she is very attached to
her husband.'

'Lady Afy is a charming woman. I know no woman so truly elegant as Lady
Afy. The young Duke, you know they say, greatly admires Lady Afy.'

'Oh! does he? Well now, I should have thought her rather a sentimental
and serious donna; one very unlikely------'

'Hush! here come two cavaliers.'

The Dukes of Burlington and St. James advanced.

'We are attracted by observing two nymphs wandering in this desert,'
said his Grace of Burlington. This was the Burgundy.

'And we wish to know whether there be any dragon to destroy, any ogre to
devour, any magician to massacre, or how, when, and where we can testify
our devotion to the ladies of our love,' added his Grace of St. James.
This was the champagne.

'The age of chivalry is past,' said Miss Dacre. 'Bores have succeeded
to dragons, and I have shivered too many lances in vain ever to hope for
their extirpation; and as for enchantments----'

'They depend only upon yourself,' gallantly interrupted the Duke of
Burgundy. Psha!--Burlington.

'Our spells are dissolved, our wands are sunk five fathom deep; we had
retired to this solitude, and we were moralising,' said Mrs. Dallington
Vere.

'Then you were doing an extremely useless and not very magnanimous
thing,' said the Duke of St. James; 'for to moralise in a desert is no
great exertion of philosophy. You should moralise in a drawing-room; and
so let me propose our return to that world which must long have missed
us. Let us do something to astound these elegant barbarians. Look at
that young gentleman: how stiff he is! A Yorkshire Apollo! Look at that
old lady; how elaborately she simpers!