When Alfred quitted Lady Arden, her ladyship was joined, at her post near the door, by Mrs. Dorothea, who having much anxious business to arrange, was looking very important, with a large pack of her own printed visiting cards in her hand. On the said cards was added in writing, the words "At Home," together with a certain date, and in a corner nine o'clock; from which latter memorandum hopes of dancing were to be inferred. The date had been chosen with great nicety; for this was to be Mrs. Dorothea's grand party for the season, and must be given while she had her nice house, and before she should be obliged to go back into miserable little confined lodgings, and discharge her footman, &c. Still she wished it to be after Lady Arden's ball; for on that opportunity was placed her grand dependence for picking up beaux. It was for this laudable purpose that the pack of cards already mentioned had been brought in her reticule, and the convenient position near the door taken up. Every lord of the creation who made his appearance was immediately introduced by Lady Arden to Mrs. Dorothea; for, if her ladyship was in any danger of forgetting to do so, she invariably received a reminding twitch of the sleeve, which obliged her in self-defence, or rather in defence of the sit of her blond, to perform the ceremony forthwith: notwithstanding which preventive measures, a nice observer might have remarked, for the remainder of the evening, a slight droop about the elbow of the gauze balloon, which had the misfortune to be nearest the assailant. The introduction made, a card was instantly presented by Mrs. Dorothea to each gentleman, and with a slight bow pocketed by him. At length, however, one beau arrived, whom it was Mrs. Dorothea's turn to introduce to Lady Arden. She did so with great pomp and circumstance, as well as with evident triumph. The gentleman, whose name was Cameron, was rather on the wrong side of fifty-five, with a bald head, and blinking eyes, an Indian complexion, and small features; but a certain smirking expression withal, and an air of youthful activity, which denoted that he was still a bachelor.

We did our friend Cameron injustice when we said that he was bald; for he was still in possession of certainly not less than three hairs on either side his head. While, as to the high estimation in which those said hairs were held by their owner, no one could entertain a doubt, who had ever seen the establishment kept expressly for their due culture and arrangement. In the first place, Mr. Archibald Cameron's dressing table was adorned with a display of no less than four large-sized, patent, penetrating hair brushes, of the latest and most improved kind; next, were ranges of bottles of self-curling fluid, huile antique À la rose, &c. and pots of pommade aux mille fleurs, with combs of every description; to say nothing of a sly little one in a case for the waistcoat pocket, which, on all such occasions as morning visits, state dinners, &c., was taken out in the hall, and used with the assistance of a pocket glass, drawn from the fellow pocket, to coax the two said side locks upwards, and by pointing them towards each other, induce them, as nearly as possible, to meet over the centre of the naked polished forehead. But as this was an undertaking too difficult to be always achieved with perfect success, the restive curls not unfrequently stood on end with the most obstinate pertinacity, like the pricked-up ears of a listening cur. There was no help for this; for when the curls refused to be coaxed, they were too great favourites to be quarrelled with, so they were; just obliged to be allowed to have their own way.

While Mr. Cameron stood speaking to Lady Arden and Mrs. Dorothea, the latter lady looked frequently about her, with evident anxiety. At length she made what she intended for a private signal with her fan to Madeline, whom she espied walking up and down, leaning on the arm of her last partner, one of those unhappy young men, no match for any one, of whom the most prudent mothers are, notwithstanding, obliged to admit a certain number when they give a ball, merely as dancing machines. This is one very serious objection to giving absolute balls at all: it being rather awkward to cut people whom one has exhibited at one's own house. We question, therefore, whether it would not be more prudent in ladies with unmarried daughters to resign, altogether, the eclat of ball-giving, and limit themselves to a select quadrille, got up purposely by accident; in which every partner for the dance should be a desirable partner for life: in case it should so happen.

Madeline, in obedience to her aunt's summons, approached: Mrs. Dorothea, with the greatest stateliness, held out her elbow, of which her niece accepted the proffered support, making at the same time a slight courtesy to her late partner, as at once a dismissal, and a recompence for past services. He accordingly perceiving he was de trop took himself off. Aunt Dorothea, now glancing at Madeline with the side of her eye, drew herself up, pursed her mouth, and looked amazingly consequential; at length, after a delay sufficient in her opinion to take off all particularity, she availed herself of a pause in the conversation, and after remarking to Mr. Cameron, that she supposed he was a dancing man, presented him to Madeline. Had Cameron been but three-and-twenty he might have affected indifference about, or even a dislike to, the particular modification of locomotion alluded to; but as any demur at his particular stage of existence might have given occasion for ill-natured people to surmise that his dancing days were over, he declared himself a most devoted votary of the mirth-promoting rites of the light fantastic toe, and asking Madeline to dance, led her towards the ball-room.

"Well," said Mrs. Dorothea, to Lady Arden, "I have managed that so nicely."

"And who, my dear madam, is that comical quizz?" demanded her ladyship.

"Quizz, indeed! I should not have introduced Mr. Cameron to my niece," said Mrs. Dorothea, haughtily, "had he not been a man of high connexions, unexceptionable character, and very large fortune."

"I have not the slightest doubt of your prudence, my dear ma'am, I merely alluded to his appearance."

"I see nothing the matter with his appearance, ma'am."

"The matter, oh, no; merely he is a droll looking being: but what did you say was his fortune?"

"While Governor of Madras he is said to have realised about fifty thousand pounds, and a short time before he returned from India, he succeeded unexpectedly to the family property, about seven thousand a-year, beside which, now that his elder brother is dead, he is heir to his uncle, Lord Dunsmoor, whose title and estates, of full thirty thousand per annum, he must inherit. That is a sort of quizz which I think your ladyship will allow is not to be met with every day."

"No, certainly, as you say. If he should take a fancy to Madeline, I hope she won't think him too old."

"If Madeline should, like many other young people, be very silly, I should hope she would have your ladyship to think for her."

All this was of course said aside, and sotto voce. Had the situation been better adapted to confidential conversation, much more would have been said, particularly by Aunt Dorothea, who considered Mr. Cameron the very first prize in life's lottery.

At two or three-and-twenty, when a poor younger brother and "no match for any one," he had been a passionate lover of Aunt Dorothea, then a beautiful girl of nineteen. But a marriage at that time would have been too imprudent a thing to be thought of, and so they parted. This was five-and-thirty years ago. For about the first ten years both parties had been very faithful; but the affair had since, like most early engagements, died a natural death.

Aunt Dorothea, to do her justice, had too much good sense to dream of any one continuing to be a lover of hers at her present age. And as for Cameron, although a halo of romance had lingered around the remembered image of his "First Love," even 'till their meeting on the very morning of the evening we are now describing; it was the blooming girl of nineteen whom his fancy still painted, such as she had looked five-and-thirty years before; when vowing eternal truth, he had bade her a long farewell. One sight of our respectable friend Mrs. Dorothea Arden, now fifty-four years of age, banished in an instant every romantic idea as associated with the personal attractions of that lady.

The former lovers became, however, at once excellent friends; and in the course of that day Aunt Dorothea laid her plan for making up a match between one, whom she considered a sort of valuable heir-loom that ought not to be allowed to go out of the family, and her favourite niece, Madeline, who had always been reckoned like Mrs. Dorothea, and her aunt knew her to be still disengaged.

Woman—the delicate day lily, blooms her hour—fades, and disappears for ever from beauty's garden! Man—the hardy evergreen braves the cold storm of disappointment—stands through the long winter of delay—and when his genial season of prosperity at last arrives, finds fair companions still in the smiling buds of each succeeding spring.