reserved for me beside Miss Bingham, into which, by some contrivance I
can in no wise explain, I found myself almost immediately installed. To
all the excitements of champagne and punch, let the attractions of a
French ballet be added, and, with a singularly pretty companion at your
side, to whom you have already made sufficient advances to be aware that
you are no longer indifferent to her, and I venture to predict, that it
is much more likely your conversation will incline to flirting than
political economy; and, moreover, that you make more progress during the
performance of one single pas de deux upon the stage, than you have
hitherto done in ten morning calls, with an unexceptionable whisker and
the best fitting gloves in Paris. Alas! alas! it is only the rich man
that ever wins at rouge et noir. The well-insured Indiaman, with her
cargo of millions, comes safe into port; while the whole venture of some
hardy veteran of the wave, founders within sight of his native shore. So
is it ever; where success would be all and every thing, it never comes
--but only be indifferent or regardless, and fortune is at your feet,
suing and imploring your acceptance of her favours. What would I not
have given for one half of that solicitude now so kindly expressed in my
favour by Miss Bingham, if syllabled by the lips of Lady Jane Callonby
--how would my heart have throbbed for one light smile from one, while I
ungratefully basked in the openly avowed preference of the other. These
were my first thoughts--what were the succeeding ones?

"Comment elle est belle," said a Frenchwoman, turning round in the box
next to us, and directing at the same moment the eyes of a moustached
hero upon my fair companion.

What a turn to my thoughts did this unexpected ejaculation give rise to!
I now began to consider her more attentively, and certainly concurred
fully in the Frenchwoman's verdict. I had never see her look half so