f all is, that
these malignant and miserable feelings are masked under that uniform
disguise of pretended benevolence, _that fine and delicate irony,
called politeness, which gives so much ease and pliability to the
mutual intercourse of civilised man, and enables him to assume the
appearance of every virtue without the reality of one_.[13.1]

The second set of dances was now terminated, and Mr Escot flew off to
reclaim the hand of the beautiful Cephalis, with whom he figured away
with surprising alacrity, and probably felt at least as happy among
the chandeliers and silk stockings, at which he had just been railing,
as he would have been in an American forest, making one in an Indian
ring, by the light of a blazing fire, even though his hand had been
locked in that of the most beautiful _squaw_ that ever listened to the
roar of Niagara.

Squire Headlong was now beset by his maiden aunt, Miss Brindle-mew
Grimalkin Phoebe Tabitha Ap-Headlong, on one side, and Sir Patrick
O'Prism on the other; the former insisting that he should immediately
procure her a partner; the latter earnestly requesting the same
interference in behalf of Miss Philomela Poppyseed. The squire thought
to emancipate himself from his two petitioners by making them dance
with each other; but Sir Patrick vehemently pleading a prior
engagement, the squire threw his eyes around till they alighted on Mr
Jenkison and the Reverend Doctor Gaster; both of whom, after waking
the latter, he pressed into the service. The doctor, arising with a
strange kind of guttural sound, which was half a yawn and half a
groan, was handed by the officious squire to Miss Philomela, who
received him with sullen dignity: she had not yet forgotten his
falling asleep during the first chapter of her novel, while she was
condescending to detail to him the outlines of four superlative
volumes. The doctor, on his part, had most completely forgotten it;
and though he thought there was something in her physiognomy rather
more forbidding than usual, he gave himself no concern about the
cause, and had not the least suspicion that it was at all connected
with himself. Miss Brindle-mew was very well contented with Mr
Jenkison, and gave him two or three ogles, accompanied by a most
risible distortion of the countenance which she intended for a
captivating smile. As to Mr Jenkison, it was all one to him with whom
he danced, or whether he danced or not: he was therefore just as well
pleased a