After Mr. Uxbridge went, I asked Aunt Eliza if she thought he
looked mean and cunning? She laughed, and replied that she was
bound to think that Mr. Lemorne's lawyer could not look otherwise.

When, on the night of the ball, I presented myself in the rose-
colored moire antique for her inspection, she raised her eyebrows,
but said nothing about it.

"I need not be careful of it, I suppose, aunt?"

"Spill as much wine and ice-cream on it as you like."

In the dressing-room Mrs. Bliss surveyed me.

"I think I like this mass of rose-color," she said. "Your hair
comes out in contrast so brilliantly. Why, you have not a single
ornament on!"

"It is so easy to dress without."

This was all the conversation we had together during the evening,
except when she introduced some acquaintance to fulfill her
matronizing duties. As I was no dancer I was left alone most of the
time, and amused myself by gliding from window to window along the
wall, that it might not be observed that I was a fixed flower.
Still I suffered the annoyance of being stared at by wandering
squads of young gentlemen, the "curled darlings" of the ball-room.
I borrowed Mrs. Bliss's fan in one of her visits for a protection.
With that, and the embrasure of a remote window where I finally
stationed myself, I hoped to escape further notice. The music of