green brocade petticoat. Her hair was powdered as usual, and several
brilliants flashed as she moved her head in answer to Leslie Travers's
bow.

Where was Griselda? Lady Betty gave him no chance of asking the
question, as she swept past with all the dignity her little person could
command, and was soon forgetting her indignation against Griselda and
her rejection of Sir Maxwell Danby's suit, in her own delight in having
apparently captured Lord Basingstoke.

Leslie wandered from room to room, and was trying to make up his mind
whether to brave all consequences, and boldly go to Lady Betty's house
and inquire for Griselda, when he was met by Mr. Beresford, an
acquaintance whom he had made at Mr. Herschel's house, who told him that
he was going to Bristol the next day to play in the orchestra at the
rehearsal for "Judas Maccabaeus," and asking him to accompany him.

"There will be room," he said, "in the conveyance that is hired.
Post-horses, and a large chariot, are engaged by the Herschels, who are
making a pretty fortune by music, and spending it all in those
jim-cracks of mirrors and tubes and micrometers."

"Jim-cracks!" Leslie repeated. "I could not give them such a name; they
are like the steps in the ladder Mr. Herschel is climbing skyward."

Mr. Beresford laughed.

"I confess I am very well content to let the stars take their course
without my interference--I mean without my looking into the matter.
There is enough to do for me to consider my ways down below without
star-gazing. By-the-bye, _your_ star of beauty is not here to-night; has
she set behind a cloud? Here come the two Miss Greenwoods, simpering and
putting on fashionable airs which don't suit them. Like their gowns,
such airs don't fit. Fancy their fat old mother asking me what my
intentions were!"

Leslie could not help laughing at his friend's remarks on the various
beaux and belles who passed in review before them.

Presently the young man said:

"Look! did you see that?"

"What?" Leslie Travers asked.

"Sir Maxwell was called out to speak to someone by his valet. He is
brewing mischief, I'll take my oath. Let us go into the room next the
lobby and find out."

"I decline to act spy. You may do so if you like," Leslie said.

And he turned away towards another part of the room, and began to talk
for half an hour to a retiring gentle girl, who, when the "contre danse"
was formed, had no partner. Leslie led her out to take a place in