ing the eyes of the whole company thus
turned upon her, regarded the peer with a look of ineffable disdain, and
turned from him in silence.

Such were the transactions of an evening, which will doubtless long be
remembered by such as had the good fortune to be spectators. The natural
impertinence and insolence of lord Martin were swelled by the event to ten
times their natural pitch. He crowed like a cock, and cackled like a
goose. The vulgar of the other sex, who are constantly the admirers of
success, however unmerited, and conceit, however unfounded, thought his
lordship the greatest man in the world. The inequality of his legs was
removed by the proof he had exhibited of his prowess. The inequality of
his shoulders was hid under a rent-roll of ten thousand a year. And the
narrowness of his intellects, the optics of these connoisseurs were not
calculated to discern.

The peer, as we have already hinted, was the suitor most favoured by the
father of our heroine. The principal passion of the old gentleman was the
love of money. But at the same time he was not absolutely incapable of
relishing the inferior charms of a venerable title and a splendid
reputation. Perceiving that his client continually rose in the public
opinion, he was more eager than ever to have the match concluded. Lord
Martin, though his organs were not formed to delight in beauty at the
first hand, was yet tickled with the conceit of carrying off so fair a
prize from the midst of a thousand gaping expectants.

It will naturally be imagined that the situation of Delia at this moment
was by no means an enviable one. She was caught in the snares of love. And
the more she struggled to get free, she was only the more limed and
entangled. The recollection of the hopelessness of her love by no means
sufficed to destroy it. The recollection of her former carelessness and
gaiety was not able to restore her to present ease. In vain she summoned
pride and maiden dignity to support her. In vain she formed resolutions,
which were broken as soon as made. Every where she was haunted by the
image of her dear unknown. Her nights were sleepless and uneasy. The fire
and brightness of her eyes were tarnished. _She pined in green and
yellow melancholy._

The more dear were the ideal image that accompanied her, the more did she
execrate and detest her persecutor. "No," cried she, "I will never be his.
Never shall the sacred tie, which should only unite congenial spirits