Vincent muttered something which, as I really liked and esteemed him, I
was resolved not to hear; accordingly I turned to another part of the
room: there I found Lady Dawton--she was a tall, handsome woman, as proud
as a liberal's wife ought to be. She received me with unusual
graciousness, and I sat myself beside her. Three dowagers, and an old
beau of the old school, were already sharing the conversation with the
haughty countess. I found that the topic was society.

"No," said the old beau, who was entitled Mr. Clarendon, "society is very
different from what it was in my younger days. You remember, Lady Paulet,
those delightful parties at D--House? where shall we ever find any thing
like them? Such ease, such company--even the mixture was so piquant, if
one chanced to sit next a bourgeois, he was sure to be distinguished for
his wit or talent. People were not tolerated, as now, merely for their
riches."

"True," cried Lady Dawton, "it is the introduction of low persons,
without any single pretension, which spoils the society of the present
day!" And the three dowagers sighed amen, to this remark.

"And yet," said I, "since I may safely say so here without being
suspected of a personality in the shape of a compliment, don't you think,
that without any such mixture, we should be very indifferent company? Do
we not find those dinners and soirees the pleasantest where we see a
minister next to a punster, a poet to a prince, and a coxcomb like me
next to a beauty like Lady Dawton? The more variety there is in the
conversation, the more agreeable it becomes."

"Very just," answered Mr. Clarendon; "but it is precisely because I wish
for that variety that I dislike a miscellaneous society. If one does not