to-night!"

"I am charmed to charm you, Mr. Annesley. Shall I tell you what Lord Bon
Mot said of you?"

"No, _ma mignonne_! I never wish to hear my own good things."

"_Spoiled_, you should add," said Lady Squib, "if Bon Mot be in the
case."

"Lord Bon Mot is a most gentlemanly man," said Delia, indignant at an
admirer being attacked. "He always wants to be amusing. Whenever he
dines out, he comes and sits with me half an hour to catch the air of
Parisian badinage."

"And you tell him a variety of little things?" asked Lord Squib,
insidiously drawing out the secret tactics of Bon Mot.

"_Beaucoup, beaucoup_," said Delia, extending two little white hands
sparkling with gems. "If he come in ever so--how do you call it?
heavy--not that--in the domps--ah! it is that--if ever he come in the
domps, he goes out always like a _soufflee._"

"As empty, I have no doubt," said Lady Squib.

"And as sweet, I have no doubt," said Lord Squib; "for Delcroix
complains sadly of your excesses, Delia."

"Mr. Delcroix complain of me! That, indeed, is too bad. Just because I
recommended Montmorency de Versailles to him for an excellent customer,
ever since he abuses me, merely because Montmorency has forgot, in the
hurry of going off, to pay his little account."

"But he says you have got all the things," said Lord Squib, whose great
amusement was to put Delia in a passion.

"What of that?" screamed the little lady. "Montmorency gave them to
me."

"Don't make such a noise," said the Bird of Paradise. "I never can eat
when there is a noise. St. James," continued she, in a fretful tone,
"they make such a noise!"

"Annesley, keep Squib quiet."

"Delia, leave that young man alone. If Isidora would talk a little more,
and you eat a little more, I think you would be the most agreeable
little ladies I know. Poppet! put those _bonbons_ in your pocket. You
should never eat sugar-plums in company."

Thus talking agreeable nonsense, tasting agreeable dishes, and sipping
agreeable wines, an hour ran on. Sweetest music from an unseen source
ever and anon sounded, and Spiridion swung a censer full of perfumes
around the chamber. At length the duke requested Count Frill to give
them a song. The Bird of Paradise would never sing for pleasure, only
for fame and a slight check. The count begged to decline, and at the
same time asked for a guitar. The signora sent for hers; and his
Excellency, preluding with a beautiful simper, gave them som