know,--I a'n't quite determined."

"O, do dance!" cried he, stretching himself and yawning, "it always
gives me spirits to see you."

Then, turning suddenly to Cecilia, without any previous ceremony of
renewing his acquaintance, either by speaking or bowing, he abruptly
said "Do you love dancing, ma'am?"

"Yes, Sir, extremely well."

"I'm very glad to hear it. You have one thing, then, to soften
existence."

"Do you dislike it yourself?"

"What dancing? Oh dreadful! how it was ever adopted in a civilized
country I cannot find out; 'tis certainly a Barbarian exercise, and of
savage origin. Don't you think so, Miss Larolles?"

"Lord no," cried Miss Larolles, "I assure you I like it better than
any thing; I know nothing so delightful, I declare I dare say I could
not live without it; I should be so stupid you can't conceive."

"Why I remember," said Mr Marriot, "when Mr Meadows was always dancing
himself. Have you forgot, Sir, when you used to wish the night would
last for ever, that you might dance without ceasing?"

Mr Meadows, who was now intently surveying a painting that was over
the chimney-piece, seemed of to hear this question, but presently