"Seventy-three," answered Cecilia, "which I hope will plead my
apology for being so little dressed."

"Oh, you're vastly well," returned the other, "and for my part, I
never think about dress. But only conceive what happened to me last
year! Do you know I came to town the twentieth of March! was not
that horrid provoking?"

"Perhaps so," said Cecilia, "but I am sure I cannot tell why."

"Not tell why?" repeated Miss Larolles, "why, don't you know it was
the very night of the grand private masquerade at Lord Darien's? I
would not have missed it for the whole universe. I never travelled
in such an agony in my life: we did not get to town till monstrous
late, and then do you know I had neither a ticket nor a habit! Only
conceive what a distress! well, I sent to every creature I knew for
a ticket, but they all said there was not one to be had; so I was
just like a mad creature--but about ten or eleven o'clock, a young
lady of my particular acquaintance, by the greatest good luck in the
world happened to be taken suddenly ill; so she sent me her ticket,
--was not that delightful?"

"For _her_, extremely!" said Cecilia, laughing.

"Well," she continued, "then I was almost out of my wits with joy;
and I went about, and got one of the sweetest dresses you ever saw.
If you'll call upon me some morning, I'll shew it you."

Cecilia, not prepared for an invitation so abrupt, bowed without