consummate selfishness did not warp it, knew well how to act the lover,
without running ridiculously into the folly of seeming to play the hoary
dangler. He sought rather to be lively than sentimental; and beneath the
wit to conceal the suitor.

Having paid, then, with a careless gallantry his first compliments, he
entered into so animated a conversation, interspersed with so many naive
yet palpably just observations on the characters present, that perhaps he
had never appeared to more brilliant advantage. At length, as the music
was about to recommence, Mauleverer, with a careless glance at Lucy's
partner, said, "Will Miss Brandon now allow me the agreeable duty of
conducting her to her father?"

"I believe," answered Lucy, and her voice suddenly became timid, "that,
according to the laws of the rooms, I am engaged to this gentleman for
another dance."

Clifford, in an assured and easy tone, replied in assent.

As he spoke. Mauleverer honoured him with a more accurate survey than he
had hitherto bestowed on him; and whether or not there was any expression
of contempt or superciliousness in the survey, it was sufficient to call
up the indignant blood to Clifford's cheek. Returning the look with
interest, he said to Lucy, "I believe, Miss Brandon, that the dance is
about to begin;" and Lucy, obeying the hint, left the aristocratic
Mauleverer to his own meditations.

At that moment the master of the ceremonies came bowing by, half afraid
to address so great a person as Mauleverer, but willing to show his
respect by the profoundness of his salutation.