Balls, parties, operas, followed each other in rapid succession; and as rapidly did Selina rise to the very zenith of fashion. She became at once the ton, and, being so, whatever she said, whatever she did, was of course immediately pronounced "wisest, discreetest, best." She had many followers, but Lord George Meredith was the only gentleman, who had yet openly professed himself to be her suitor. It was, however, far from Lady Eltondale's intention, that Selina should make any choice for herself; or rather, she determined so to bend her ductile mind, that by degrees that choice, which was in reality Lady Eltondale's, should seem to be her own. She therefore carefully observed the manner of all the young men, who were most sedulous in paying attention to Selina; believing that she was fully capable of discriminating, whether their intentions went beyond the amusement of the passing moment, and equally certain of frustrating any plan that militated against her own. The more Selina became the fashion, the more steady became Lady Eltondale's determination to marry her to Frederick Elton; and with that infatuation, which is a natural consequence of self-love, the deeper she became engaged in the prosecution of her scheme, the more she felt herself interested in its ultimate success. Lord George Meredith soon rendered himself an object of her jealousy; and she therefore took an early opportunity of casually informing Selina, through an apparently accidental conversation with Sir James Fenton, of his Lordship's unconquerable passion for gaming, and concluded by turning abruptly to Selina, remarking, "that, no doubt, the fine oaks of Deane Hall would serve to repair some of his losses; and, as he regularly made love to every heiress that came out, perhaps Selina might, if she chose, procure for herself the hitherto rejected title in reversion of Marchioness Starmont." Lady Eltondale's sarcasm was not without its due effect: by degrees Selina's behaviour to Lord George sunk into a cold, though polite reserve; and his Lordship, understanding the change in the manner both of aunt and niece, gradually withdrew his attentions. The conduct of Mr. Sedley was much more equivocal, and almost baffled the penetration of the Viscountess. It always happened his engagements and theirs were the same, and wherever they went he became one of their immediate party; but his manner was so perfectly careless, that the rencontre seemed purely accidental. He admired Selina's beauty avowedly, but with apparently equal nonchalance, sometimes complimented Lady Eltondale on the elegance of Miss Seymour's dress, and much oftener finding fault with Selina herself, if any particular ornament or colour in it happened not to suit his fancy. To the Viscountess herself his manner was in the highest degree attentive, and even insinuating; and had the world in which they moved had time to attend to his conduct in particular, it would probably have decided, that he was much more assiduous in recommending himself to the aunt than to the niece. He would often place himself, for a whole evening, behind Lady Eltondale's chair, when the vivacity and singularity of his conversation, compounded, as it was, of sense and levity, would withdraw nearly all her attention from the rest of the company, while at the same time Selina would appear almost unregarded by him. It also often happened, if they were at a ball together, he would ask Selina to dance, "provided she had not any other partner;" or tell her to "say at least she was engaged to him, if any asked her she did not wish to dance with;" and such was the pleasure Selina always experienced from his natural vivacious manners, that it seldom happened that the engagement was not fulfilled. And yet it seemed almost a matter of indifference to him, whether it was so or not; he often appeared fully as anxious to procure other pleasant partners for her, as to be the chosen one himself. One evening, Selina supposed she had engaged herself to him, and waited in anxious, though vain, expectation of his coming to claim her hand; and when, as his apology for not doing so, he told her laughingly, that he had totally forgotten their engagement, she was almost tempted to be affronted. But he so good naturedly called the next morning, to bring her the music of the last new ballet, and appeared so unconscious of having merited her displeasure, that it quickly vanished, and their friendship seemed more firmly established than ever.

Certain it is, that Selina felt more at ease with Sedley, than with any other of the beaux who now constantly attended in her train. Sometimes the compliments of her professed admirers were too exaggerated for even her vanity to believe. But, with him, she felt she could at all times talk and laugh unrestrainedly; he seemed to have no pretensions, and therefore she did not think it necessary to be on her guard against either wounding or encouraging them. If the inconsiderateness of her buoyant spirits, or her inexperience of the rules of etiquette, led her into any trifling dilemma, she was always certain of his good humoured and effectual assistance in relieving her from her embarrassment; whilst, on the other hand, he had imperceptibly assumed the privilege, which she had as unconsciously yielded to him, of reproving her for any trifling sin, either of omission or commission, against the laws of fashion. She therefore reposed a certain confidence in Sedley, that led her to have a different feeling for him, from that she experienced for the other individuals by whom she was surrounded. For her natural timidity led her almost always to yield her opinion, without contention, to that of any other person, whose knowledge or abilities she supposed superior to her own. She even felt relieved, by believing she could in safety repose on the wisdom of another; for she had never yet been placed in a situation, in which she was necessitated to act for herself. Her ideas of the perfection of her father and Mrs. Galton had been such, that she not only never had disputed their authority, but had so entirely relied on their judgment, that her own had never been called into action. With her recollections of them Augustus Mordaunt had hitherto been united: the first affections of her heart had turned towards him, as to the playfellow, the companion, the brother of her earliest infancy; and had he too been her guide on her first entrance into life, she would probably have been induced to bestow on him a still dearer title. But Sir Henry's death, and Lady Eltondale's subsequent artifices, had totally separated poor Selina from all these her earliest friends. The misunderstanding, which had at first arisen partly from accident, between her and Mordaunt, was afterwards carefully increased by the crafty Viscountess; and her two unsuspecting victims, by their mutual errors, facilitated the success of her machinations. Both, conscious of the integrity of their own feelings, avoided rather than sought an explanation, which both considered due to their own individual pride. By both the perceptible alteration of each other's manner was attributed to the change that had taken place in their relative situation; and, above all, as the interruption of their intimacy had occurred by imperceptible degrees, no opening was left for reconciliation by the pretext of decided grievance. Whenever they met, which was now but seldom, a mutual indifference seemed to have succeeded to that regard, which had once been so prized by both. As yet however the indifference was but assumed.—Mordaunt felt, that it would be long before reason could extinguish his love for her, who was the world's idol as well as his—but every sentiment of wounded affection and indignant pride led him to conceal the passion he could not cure—The more he became conscious of the necessity of self-control, the more did he close up the real feelings of his heart in an impenetrable armour of cold and studied reserve. On the other hand, Selina's feelings had taken a far different coloring. His having, on their first meeting in town, apparently repulsed her advances to a renewal of their former intimacy, had given her the severest pang of mortification she had ever experienced; but vanity soon came to her assistance, and when she found that he alone appeared insensible to those charms which were so prized by others, she began, not unnaturally, to attribute his apparent unkindness to an insensibility she was undecided whether to resent or despise. Whenever, therefore, by accident they happened to be in the same society, she rather assumed than corrected the appearance of flirtation and coquetry, which was dissimilar to the artless naÏvetÉ of her earlier days, and was least suited to the unbending frigidity of his present deportment. With these sentiments it is not then to be wondered at, that their mutual society should become a source of pain, rather than of pleasure, to both; and Lady Eltondale, watching with secret satisfaction the widening breach, made it still more irreparable, by ostentatiously appearing to court that intercourse, which both now evidently wished to shun.

At the same time Sedley, apparently without design, seemed to rise in Selina's estimation, in the proportion as Augustus fell, and gradually began to insinuate himself into her regard. In Sedley's society Selina felt perfectly unrestrained. With him her manners were always natural: she felt assured, that he was, as he professed to be, sincerely her friend; and she rested with satisfaction on the belief, that he aspired to no higher distinction. Even the vigilance of Lady Eltondale was for once baffled. Mr. Sedley's situation in life was exactly in that mean, which least attracted her notice: his paternal estate was sufficient, as she believed, to render even Selina's fortune of no vital importance to him; and judging of Selina by herself, she believed it almost impossible, that a girl so universally admired, as she undoubtedly was, would be content to remain a commoner all her life. Besides, she knew Sedley was Frederick's most intimate friend, and therefore she did not hesitate to make him the confidant of her views regarding Miss Seymour; believing that by doing so she might safely encourage his attendance on her niece, and at the same time make that attendance an additional defence against the designs of others. But the Viscountess had now to learn, that duplicity on one side engenders artifice on the other: Sedley was even more in her son-in-law's confidence, than in her own; and, while she with wily care cautioned him against allowing Selina to suspect her plan, she convinced him, that, in seeking the gratification of his own passion, there was no risk of thwarting the affections either of his friend, or the heiress allotted to him. It was true, from a passage in Frederick's last letter, he was led to believe, that it was his intention to pay his addresses to Miss Seymour on his return to England, and he therefore cautiously suspended his own operations. "At present, (thought he) the girl certainly prefers me to every other man; for now she has quite forgot that perpendicular statue Mordaunt, and it will be difficult enough for him to revive any regard she might once have had for such a philosophical personage as he is, whilst both Lady Eltondale and I keep guard over her. Then if she has sense and steadiness enough to refuse Elton, when he proposes for her estate, for I'll take care she understands he does not care a farthing for herself; why then, notwithstanding my pretty Columbina, I will, without any remorse of conscience, marry her myself, if it was for nothing but to rescue her from that devilish calculator of compound interest, that noble aunt of hers—But if that same crafty duenna, that female Machiavel succeeds, which, after all, is by no means improbable, considering her wickedness and Selina's innocence; why then let them all take the consequence. Frederick will get the old oaks—she'll get his old title, and I, or any other man, may get her love that pleases." So reasoned Sedley—and thus did this modern Pylades acquit himself of the charge of any breach of friendship, as he thus deliberately prepared to rival his own Orestes.

Far different, and much less successful, were the means adopted by Webberly for carrying his designs into execution. He had become painfully convinced, that the paths of fashionable extravagance were not to be trodden with impunity; and as his credit decreased with his banker his attentions to Miss Seymour were redoubled. Whenever she appeared in public, as at the theatres, or in the Park, he was her constant attendant; "and, like the shadow, proved the substance true," as far at least as related to her fortune. But notwithstanding his assiduity, he found it almost impossible to procure access to those more distinguished parties Lady Eltondale and Sedley frequented; and, being as much enlightened by his self-interest as the Viscountess was deceived by hers, he determined to keep a watchful eye over his ci-devant friend, and heartily repented having ever introduced him at Deane Hall.

While these two competitors were thus, in different ways, striving for the golden prize, Selina was not less an object of regard to Lord Osselstone.—He, as might naturally be expected, was usually to be met in the same circle in which Lady Eltondale moved: but it was more difficult to account for the perceptible attention he constantly paid to Selina. At first he seemed more than usually pleased with the artlessness and vivacity of her manner; and the recollection of the kindness of his behaviour to her at the moment of her distress, at Lady Eltondale's first party, made her show a sort of confidence in her manners and address towards him, that, had she been more experienced in the ways of the world, his very superiority might perhaps have prevented. But with Lord Osselstone the idea of Mordaunt was inseparably connected; and as the recollection of the one became painful, the pleasure she had derived from the society of the other decreased. She became gradually suspicious of his character, as a greater familiarity with it convinced her it was not easily to be understood; and she was sometimes tempted to wish, either that she was less an object of his Lordship's observation, or that the veil could be entirely withdrawn, which seemed so constantly to shroud all his feelings from her view.

At last the day of Selina's presentation at Court arrived. Never had she looked so lovely—never was she so much admired.—Her heart beat high with exultation, and her eyes sparkled with redoubled animation, as she heard her own praise from every lip. When the drawing-room was over, and she found herself seated in the carriage with Lady Eltondale, she could not, in the vanity of the moment, repress a wish that Mrs. Galton had seen how much she was admired: adding, while a smile of conscious beauty played on her ruby lip, "I think if Mr. Mordaunt had been at Court to-day, even he might have condescended to have acknowledged his country friend." It was the first time Selina had voluntarily named him for many months, and the Viscountess hailed the auspicious omen. She knew that not to breathe a name on which our thoughts most dwell, is even a more dangerous symptom, than when it is the sole subject of our conversation. The spell with Selina now seemed broken; and Lady Eltondale profited by the opportunity afforded, continuing the conversation in a careless manner, in hopes of accustoming Selina to the deliberate discussion of his negligence towards her. "If (thought she) I can habituate her to talk about him, and to talk calmly, the day is my own: