"Lord, Mr Meadows," said Miss Larolles, "don't you know you are
meaning the Pantheon? only conceive how you forget things!"

"The Pantheon, was it? I never know one of those places from another.
I heartily wish they were all abolished; I hate public places. 'Tis
terrible to be under the same roof with a set of people who would care
nothing if they saw one expiring!"

"You are, at least, then, fond of the society of your friends?"

"O no! to be worn out by seeing always the same faces!--one is sick to
death of friends; nothing makes one so melancholy."

Cecilia now went to join the dancers, and Mr Meadows, turning to Miss
Larolles, said, "Pray don't let me keep you from dancing; I am afraid
you'll lose your place."

"No," cried she, bridling, "I sha'n't dance at all."

"How cruel!" cried he, yawning, "when you know how it exhilarates me
to see you! Don't you think this room is very close? I must go and try
another atmosphere,--But I hope you will relent, and dance?"

And then, stretching his arms as if half asleep, he sauntered into the
next room, where he flung himself upon a sofa till the ball was over.

The new partner of Cecilia, who was a wealthy, but very simple young
man, used his utmost efforts to entertain and oblige her, and,
flattered by the warmth of his own desire, he fancied that he