Yards of blond lace, which might be compared to a foam of the sea,
were agitated at the same moment, and by the same mighty emotion.
The river of diamonds which flowed round her Ladyship's neck, seemed
to swell and to shine more than ever. The tall plumes on her
ambrosial head bowed down beneath the storm. In other words, Lady
Gorgon, in a furious rage, which she was compelled to restrain,
trembled, drew up, and bowing majestically, said,--

"Sir, I shall have much pleasure." With this, she extended her
hand. Scully, trembling, thrust forward one of his huge kid-gloves,
and led her to the head of the country-dance. John Perkins--who I
presume had been drinking pretty freely, so as to have forgotten his
ordinary bashfulness--looked at the three Gorgons in blue, then at
the pretty smiling one in white, and stepping up to her, without the
smallest hesitation, asked her if she would dance with him.

The young lady smilingly agreed. The great example of Scully and
Lady Gorgon was followed by all dancing men and women. Political
enmities were forgotten. Whig voters invited Tory voters' wives to
the dance. The daughters of Reform accepted the hands of the sons
of Conservatism. The reconciliation of the Romans and Sabines was
not more touching than this sweet fusion. Whack--whack! Springer
clapped his hands; and the fiddlers adroitly obeying the cheerful
signal, began playing "Sir Roger de Coverley" louder than ever.

I do not know by what extraordinary charm (nescio qua praeter
solitum, etc.), but young Perkins, who all his life had hated
country-dances, was delighted with this one, and skipped and
laughed, poussetting, crossing, down-the-middling, with his merry
little partner, till every one of the bettermost sort of the