"Dear Mr. Pelham,

"Lady Frances wishes Lady C--to be made acquainted with you; this is her
night, and I therefore enclose you a card. As I dine at--House, I shall
have an opportunity of making your eloge before your arrival. Your's
sincerely,

"C. Roseville."


I wonder, thought I, as I made my toilet, whether or not Lady Roseville
is enamoured with her new correspondent? I went very early, and before I
retired, my vanity was undeceived. Lady Roseville was playing at ecarte,
when I entered. She beckoned to me to approach. I did. Her antagonist was
Mr. Bedford, a natural son of the Duke of Shrewsbury, and one of the best
natured and best looking dandies about town: there was, of course, a
great crowd round the table. Lady Roseville played incomparably; bets
were high in her favour. Suddenly her countenance changed--her hand
trembled--her presence of mind forsook her. She lost the game. I looked
up and saw just opposite to her, but apparently quite careless and
unmoved, Reginald Glanville. We had only time to exchange nods, for Lady
Roseville rose from the table, took my arm, and walked to the other end
of the room, in order to introduce me to my hostess.

I spoke to her a few words, but she was absent and inattentive; my
penetration required no farther proof to convince me that she was not
wholly insensible to the attentions of Glanville. Lady--was as civil and
silly as the generality of Lady Blanks are: and feeling very much bored,
I soon retired to an obscurer corner of the room. Here Glanville joined
me.