"Though I am not so handsome as Harriet, and boast of no conquests, and
though the gentlemen do not say the wonderfully pretty things to me that
they seem to do to her, I have much enjoyed several balls since my
introduction into society. But for ever first and foremost on my list of
dances must be Lady Lucy Topham's party on New Year's Eve. Let me say
New Year's Day, for the latter part of the evening was the happy one to
me. During the first part I danced a little and watched the others much.
To sit still is mortifying, and yet I almost think the dancing was the
greater penance, since I never had much to say to men of whom I know
nothing: the dances seem interminable, and I am ever haunted by a vague
feeling that my partner is looking out over my head for some one
prettier and more lively, which is not inspiring. I must not forget a
little incident, as we came up the stairs into the ball-room. With my
customary awkwardness I dropped my fan, and was about to stoop for it,
when some one who had been following us darted forward and presented it
to me. I curtsied low, he bowed lower; our eyes met for a moment, and
then he fell behind. It was by his eyes that I recognized him afterwards
in the ball-room, for in the momentary glance on the stairs I had not
had time to observe his prominent height and fine features. How
strangely one's fancy is sometimes seized upon by a foolish wish! My
modest desire last night was to dance with this Mr. George Manners, the
handsomest man and best dancer of the room, to be whose partner even
Harriet was proud. Though I had not a word for my second-rate partners,
I fancied that I could talk to _him_. Oh, foolish heart! how I chid
myself for my folly in watching his tall figure thread the dances, in
fancying that I had met his eyes many times that evening, and, above
all, for the throb of jealous disappointment that came with every dance
when he did not do what I never soberly expected he would--ask me. A
little before twelve I was sitting out among the turbans, when I saw him
standing at some distance, and unmistakably looking at me. A sudden
horror seized me that something was wrong--my hair coming down, my dress
awry--and I was not comforted by Harriet passing at this moment with--

"'What! sitting out still? You should be more lively, child! Men don't
like dancing with dummies.'

"When her dress had whisked past me I looked up and saw him again, but
at that moment he sharply turned hi