The next morning Selina arose unrefreshed. She could not in any way reconcile to her satisfaction the expression of Mordaunt's countenance, when her eyes met his, and his apparently evident design of shunning her society. "It is so odd," thought she, "he should never have called to see me. He must have known by the newspapers that we were come to town; and then he hardly spoke three words to me all last night, yet his looks were kinder than ever. Well, I think he'll certainly call to-day." As she thus concluded her soliloquy, she turned once more to her looking-glass, and, as she revised her dress, an involuntary smile played on her lip, as she felt convinced that the negligence of her morning costume was not less becoming than her evening attire had been. Often, as the hours rolled heavily on, did she saunter to the window, and gaze up and down the square, in hopes of descrying Augustus; and often, notwithstanding her mortification, did she smile at her own ridiculous mistakes, as she still fancied every distant passenger must be he, whether tall or short, thick or thin, old or young, ugly or handsome. At last, in despair, she retired to her boudoir, and resumed her drawing; while Lady Eltondale, who was by no means unmindful of her evident restlessness, made no remark upon the subject. At last a loud knock proclaimed the arrival of visitors. Selina started from her seat, and as instantaneously resumed it. In a moment a footman appeared, with "My Lady's compliments, and begs to see you in the drawing-room, ma'am." Selina's heart beat at the unusual summons, while her trembling limbs scarcely supported her as she prepared to obey it. Great then was her disappointment on entering the room, to be overwhelmed at once with the united compliments of the whole Webberly family. She had scarcely presence of mind sufficient to reply to their various civilities; but fortunately their own anxiety to assume the feelings they deemed appropriate to the occasion, left them no time to investigate those that actually agitated her.

Lady Eltondale soon relieved her from her embarrassment. "Selina, Mrs. Sullivan has been good enough to call for the purpose of taking you to see the exhibition at Somerset House: I know you will be delighted to attend her." Selina turned full round to her aunt with a look of astonishment. She could not believe, that Lady Eltondale had consented to let her go into public with the very people, whom, of all others, she had most frequently ridiculed, against whose society she had most frequently inveighed. Lady Eltondale met her wondering gaze with an unmoved countenance; and ringing the bell, "Go, my love," said she, "and equip yourself as quickly as possible: I will desire John to send Watson to you, that no time may be lost; and I will either send my carriage, or call for you myself, to save Mrs. Sullivan the trouble of bringing you home." Selina perceived, that excuse or reply would be of no avail; and, before her surprise was abated, she found herself unwillingly seated as a fifth in Mrs. Sullivan's ostentatious equipage.

Little could the artless girl divine the real motive for the Viscountess' singular deviation from her professed rule of allowing Selina no other Chaperone than herself. In truth Mordaunt had called in Portman-square more than once, and had never been admitted; a circumstance which he had hitherto wished to attribute either to the mistake of the porter, or to the design of the aunt.

But Selina's manner and looks had been so contradictory, and her whole conduct had, in his opinion, so nearly approached to caprice, that he determined to ascertain whether it were possible she could indeed be accessary to his exclusion. He therefore took the opportunity, while Selina was moving towards the music-room, to ask Lady Eltondale's decided leave to wait on her the next day. The Viscountess, nicely discriminating between Lord Osselstone's nephew and Sir Henry Seymour's ÉlÈve, most graciously granted the permission he solicited; determining at the same to pretend, when he called, that Selina had gone out, even had a less favourable opportunity occurred of ensuring her actually having done so. While, then, poor Selina was taken away so much against her own inclination, Mordaunt approached Portman-square. At one moment he recalled to his mind, with gratitude and delight, Selina's mute but eloquent application for his approval of her talents: at the next, his heart sunk as he recollected the possibility, that those talents were thus sedulously cultivated for another. "But," thought he, "I am determined to ascertain her real sentiments; perhaps Lady Eltondale obliged her to send me that cruel message; perhaps her heart is yet unchanged; or," continued he, his passion rising at the recollection of the fatal letter, "perhaps she is only influenced by that despicable vanity of her sex, which makes them seek the applause of all, while they return the love of none. But why torture myself thus? her own conduct will best explain itself." Then, commanding all his fortitude to bear the trial, with as much composure as he could assume, he entered Lady Eltondale's drawing-room. She received him with that grace by which she was so peculiarly distinguished, and with an air of unembarrassed kindness, that might have deluded one more experienced. To his inquiries for Selina she replied, with an air of perfect candour, "She is gone to take a drive with Mrs. Sullivan; I postponed mine," she continued, with a gracious smile, "as you had promised to call on us; but, you know, Selina is very young, and London sights are quite new to her. We must all make allowances for the heedlessness of youth," added she, in a tone of compassion. "When I answered Frederick's question, whether her character was as perfect as he remembered her person promised to be, I reminded him that 'most women have no characters at all;' and prepared, him for her volatility, which is indeed her principal, if not her only fault. She too is prepared for——" Mordaunt could not bear to hear the sentence finished. "Is not that my uncle's curricle?" said he, starting up, and going to the window. His fair hostess used no further effort to prolong his visit; and as soon as politeness permitted, he took his leave, with feelings which, if Lady Eltondale could have understood, even she perhaps would have pitied.

Meantime Selina proceeded towards Somerset House. It was a delightful day; and the rapid motion of the carriage, the gaiety of the streets, and even a faint hope that she might, perhaps, meet Mordaunt in her drive, all contributed to raise her spirits. At last, as the carriage experienced a momentary stop in Bond-street, Selina heard her own name pronounced by a voice not unfamiliar to her ear, and hastily turning to the speaker, she recognized Mr. Sedley. To inquire where she resided, where she was going, and whether he might join the party, was the occupation of a moment. It was settled, that he and Webberly should walk to Somerset House, as, exclaimed the latter half aloud, "Egad, it is too bad to be boxed up here with my mother and sisters, even for the sake of the heiress." "Vell," said his mother, as she expanded her ample petticoats over the small space she had hitherto permitted him to occupy, "I'm sure that's a good riddance of bad rubbish at all events; not but Jack's a good-natured feller as ever lived, though he has sadly muffled me, to be sure." They reached Somerset House before Mrs. Sullivan had fully arranged her draperies, and before Selina had time to express half her regrets at hearing Miss Wildenheim had been left in the country, but not before the gentlemen arrived to hand them out of their carriage. Here Selina's attention was delightedly engaged in examining the various specimens of her favourite art, with which she was surrounded. Nor could the outrageous compliments of Webberly, the vociferous vulgarity of his mother and sisters, or the easy vivacious gallantry of Sedley, divert her from her admiration of them, till Lady Eltondale called to take her home. As the aunt and niece returned, neither of them articulated the name of him, who principally occupied the thoughts of both. But no sooner did they reach Portman-square, than Selina, running hastily up stairs, tossed over the numberless cards that had been left in her absence by the different beaux who had been there the night before, and a sigh escaped her as she became unwillingly convinced, that Mordaunt's only was not to be found.

Lord Eltondale seldom joined the circle in which alone his Viscountess condescended to move; and, except in very large assemblies, either at home or abroad, they were seldom seen together.

The same undistinguishing kindness still marked his manner to Selina, which she had experienced on her first reception at Eltondale; and he continued to think of her as a pretty, lively, good-humoured girl, but he had neither time nor talent to ascertain whether she was a happy one; indeed he never thought about her, except when she was present; and thus the occasional depression of her spirits, which was so new in the history of Selina's life, passed unnoticed both by the Viscount and his Lady, from the total want of reflection in the character of the one, and the refinement of duplicity in the other.

On the evening of the day in which Selina visited Somerset House, she accompanied Lady Eltondale to the Opera. She had never yet been in any theatre. What then were her sensations, when, on the door of her aunt's box being opened, she beheld, at one coup d'oeil, the assembled magnificence of the stage, presented in the last act of a beautiful ballet, and that of the audience, which seemed ranged round more to increase than to enjoy the splendor of the spectacle? To those who have beheld such a scene, with as little experience, and as much capability of enjoyment as Selina possessed, no description of its effects would be necessary; and to those who have not, no words could give an adequate idea of her delight. Lady Eltondale's box was soon filled with gentlemen, but nothing had, at first, the power of diverting Selina's attention from the stage, whilst the naÏvetÉ of her remarks, and the varying expression of her countenance, gave her every moment new charms. Amongst the rest Sir James Fenton and Lord George Meredith were most obsequious in their attentions, and loudest in their encomiums. She had just turned her head, to listen to a curious account the latter was giving of his having been once introduced to Mrs. Sullivan and her daughters, and was laughing heartily at his ridiculous imitation of their manners, when her eye caught that of Mordaunt, who was standing in the pit at no great distance. But his fine countenance no longer bore that expression, which she had so fondly treasured in her memory. He stood gazing at her, with a cold, almost contemptuous steadiness: no beam of tenderness softened the brilliancy of his penetrating eye, that seemed to dart into her very soul. She coloured, and returned his half salute with one still more expressive of indignant pride; and, with increased vivacity, renewed her conversation with Lord George Meredith. Mordaunt did not visit their box the whole evening, though Lord Osselstone staid in it for some time, occasionally smiling, and sometimes even calling forth Selina's observations on the scene, to her so replete with novelty and attraction: while once or twice following the direction of her unconscious glance, his eyes were directed to an opposite box, where Augustus seemed to be evidently renewing his devoirs to the pretty Miss Webster, to whom, as Selina thought, he had been so unnecessarily civil at Lady Eltondale's assembly.

At last, as the closing scene was almost finished, and the Viscountess was preparing to leave her box, escorted by Sir James Fenton, the door was suddenly opened by Sedley, who came to attend Selina to her carriage; she gave a smothered sigh as she thought "Augustus would once have done the same," but accepted the proffered civility, after having introduced him to Lady Eltondale; who was already well acquainted with him by name, as Frederick Elton's friend and correspondent, and therefore she thought him a most desirable attendant on Selina. Thus escorted, they hastened to their carriage, and drove without delay to join another crowd, at the Duchess of Saltoun's ball. And here Selina was, as usual, admired, followed, and flattered. Lord George Meredith and Sedley had both engaged her, before they left the Opera, to dance; and as it was one of her favorite amusements, she quickly entered into all the gaiety that surrounded her, with that vivacity which is so natural to youth, and so peculiarly belonging to her character. Mordaunt, for the moment, was forgotten; or if his image intruded on her mind, it rose as a dark cloud, that threw a gloomy shade on her present pleasure, and served but to make her turn to the joys of dissipation with increased avidity, as an antidote to its saddening influence. Is it to be wondered at, that a girl so totally inexperienced as Selina was, should yield a little to the many temptations that now surrounded her? Without any calm, steady friend, whose sobered reflection would have served as a counterpoise to her natural volatility, she found herself suddenly transported from the deepest shade of retirement to the brightest blaze of fashion.

Her youth, her beauty, her fortune, all conspired to place her in the foremost rank of praise.—All the young men professing themselves her admirers, all the women her friends.—Could she for a moment doubt their sincerity being equal to her own? And could it be supposed, that, believing their truth, she should be wholly insensible to such unexpected adulation?