'Lord Colambre, what is the matter?' said Miss Nugent, going up to him,
as he stood aloof and indignant: 'Don't look so like a chafed lion;
others may perhaps read your countenance as well as I do.'

'None can read my mind so well,' replied he. 'Oh, my dear Grace!'

'Supper!--supper!' cried she; 'your duty to your neighbour, your hand to
your partner.'

Lady Catharine, as they went downstairs to supper, observed that Miss
Nugent had not been dancing, that she had kept quite in the background
all night-quite in the shade.

'Those,' said Lord Colambre, 'who are contented in the 'shade are
the best able to bear the light; and I am not surprised that one so
interesting in the background should not desire to be the foremost
figure in a piece.'

The supper room, fitted up at great expense, with scenery to imitate
Vauxhall, opened into a superb greenhouse, lighted with coloured lamps,
a band of music at a distance--every delicacy, every luxury that
could gratify the senses, appeared in profusion. The company ate and
drank--enjoyed themselves--went away--and laughed at their hostess.
Some, indeed, who thought they had been neglected, were in too bad
humour to laugh, but abused her in sober earnest; for Lady Clonbrony had
offended half, nay, three-quarters of her guests, by what they termed
her exclusive attention to those very leaders of the ton, from whom
she had suffered so much, and who had made it obvious to all that they
thought they did her too much honour in appearing at her gala. So