Before the day arrived which had been fixed for Lady Eltondale's ball, to which Selina alluded in her letter to Mrs. Galton, a note from Lord Osselstone was received by the Viscountess, desiring her commands to Vienna, and informing her, that he and his nephew purposed immediately commencing a tour to the continent they had long meditated.

Selina felt almost relieved by the certainty of Mordaunt's absence, for she still felt a degree of painful embarrassment in his presence, though she had taught herself no longer to expect any attention, and scarcely even recognizance from him in public. Nor was she much more at ease in the society of Lord Osselstone. Whenever he was near her, whatever might be his apparent occupation, she still felt an indescribable consciousness, that she was the object of his peculiar attention. Sometimes a sort of reflected sensation in her own eye led her to believe, that his was fixed upon her; though often, when this feeling made her look round to meet his glance, she would perceive it was directed elsewhere. At other times, if engaged in conversation, when she had no idea whatever of his proximity, she would discover, by some casual observation, that he had heard all she had said; and his Lordship would then continue the discourse, be it what it might, in the strain best adapted to the moment; for Lord Osselstone particularly excelled in the talent of conversation:—he could—

Whether the subject was lively or sententious, gay or serious, his abilities seemed equally applicable to all. At times his wisdom would call forth Selina's powers of reasoning; at others he would encourage the playfulness of her wit, till it "touch'd the brink of all we hate." But beyond that verge no temporary exhilaration of spirits ever betrayed the chasteness, the delicacy of Selina's judgment. And yet, notwithstanding the urbanity and politeness of Lord Osselstone's manners to Selina, she never felt herself perfectly at ease with him. She could not be secure of what his real sentiments were, therefore, by a natural consequence, she was diffident in the expression of her own. She once described her feelings in regard to the Earl, by saying to Lady Eltondale, in her usual playful manner, "When I talk to Lord Osselstone, I always feel as if my mind was on stilts; and, though he seems only to follow my lead in conversation, I get almost out of breath, lest I should not keep up to my traces; but when I talk to Mr. Sedley, his chat runs on with mine in its own natural way, sometimes scarcely creeping along, and at others setting off in a full gallop: a Frenchwoman would say, "Je dÉbite avec l'un et cause avec l'autre.""

By this fortunate continental tour Selina was relieved from the dread of encountering, on the festive night, the only two people whose presence ever damped the amusement she derived from those scenes of gaiety in which she now shone so conspicuous; and, with unmixed delight, did she anticipate the fÊte, which, in her opinion, would eclipse all that ever had preceded it. The munificent allowance which, by her father's will, was made to the Viscountess for Selina's residence with her, was by no means an unacceptable addition to Lord Eltondale's income; for though he "never had time" to look into his own affairs, and was little aware of the real extent of their derangement, yet the constant remonstrances of his steward convinced him most unwillingly, that they were in a very embarassed state. It was not, however, Lady Eltondale's intention, that the sums received for the maintenance of her niece should be appropriated to the discharge of any of her husband's debts;—she claimed them as her own, and expended them in increased extravagance and dissipation. So sensible was she of the advantages she derived from Selina's remaining with her, that, though anxious for the match ultimately being made between Miss Seymour and Mr. Elton, she was by no means anxious, that their union should take place before the expiration of her minority, at which period she knew that her niece would of course form an establishment of her own.

The ball, which was now announced by the Viscountess, was ostensibly given for Selina; and all that taste could design, or expense procure, was put in requisition for the magnificent display. Selina, who had never by deprivation been taught the real value of riches, was delighted at the splendid preparations, and became a docile pupil in the arts of profusion under the admirable tuition of her aunt. Lady Eltondale was the character above all others most dangerous for the guidance or imitation of youth. Her faults were so varnished by the specious elegance and charms of her manners, that even the experience of age hesitated to bestow on them the stigma of vice, while the most thoughtless could not fail to discover, that she neither revered nor understood the fixed immutable rules of virtue. It is true the breath of scandal had never sullied the gloss of her fair fame; but for this, perhaps, she was more indebted to the frigidity of her heart, than to the rectitude of her principles; and that total annihilation of all feeling, which she recommended both by precept and example, was more likely to eradicate the better sentiments of benevolence and generosity, than to serve as an effectual preventive against the temptations of passion.

Lady Eltondale was scarcely less anxious than was Selina, that her entertainment should stand foremost in the annals of fashionable dissipation; for many little springs of self-interest were now set in motion in the calculating head of the Viscountess. She was arrived at that age, not only of her natural life, but of her existence in the world of fashion, when she felt it not undesirable to procure some auxiliaries, to support her on that pinnacle she had for many years occupied. She could not forget, that before her marriage she had been followed and flattered as a beauty, nor that, when she assumed her present title, she had been still more courted as a leader of ton; but she now felt conscious, that both those enviable distinctions were beginning to fade, and she was therefore not unwilling to profit by the various advantages she derived from the society of her niece, whose more novel attractions drew renewed crowds to her assemblies, and fresh visitors to her door. Nor did any personal jealousy interfere with the more substantial pleasures she enjoyed by being chaperone to Miss Seymour. Lady Eltondale was well aware, that their beauty was so dissimilar, that their individual admirers would always be distinct; nor did she believe that any person, who was capable of duly appreciating the high polish of her more matured grace, would be diverted from their admiration by the unstudied, though exuberant charms of a girl of seventeen. It was therefore with more satisfaction than envy, that Lady Eltondale contemplated the unparalleled success of Selina's toilet on the night so eagerly anticipated by both, as she appeared—

"Vhy, Miss Seymour, I never seed nothing like that ere sprig in my life," said Mrs. Sullivan, bustling through the crowd up to Selina, who had just finished the first dance with the young Duke of Saltoun. "All the vay as you vent up and down the middle, it nodded about and sparkled so—you looks for all the 'versal vorld like the queen of dimonds." "Or rather the queen of hearts," said young Webberly, with a low bow and a deep sigh; while Selina, meeting Sedley's glance, could scarcely receive his compliments with a becoming composure of countenance. "Or if," said Sedley, advancing, "you want a simile, Webberly, suppose you call Miss Seymour the planet Venus, shining at night with unrivalled splendour;—that will do, you know, ma'am, both for the sprig and the lady," continued he, turning with a ludicrous reverence to Mrs. Sullivan. "Vhy as for the matter of that there, Mr. Sedley," replied the indignant matron, "my Jack could raise a smile himself in no time, without no promoting of any one's else's whatsomdever. He's not such a ninny-headed feller neither as you seem to take him for, Mr. Sedley. He can see as far into a millstone as e'er a one, Mr. Sedley; and, as far as his mother tongue goes, he can talk orthography with you or any one else." "No doubt, my dear ma'am," returned he, with immoveable gravity, "and nothing can surpass his mother's tongue;—

"Aye, aye, Mr. Sedley, you may go on as you please; preside in your own vay, but remember I knows what's what. I can tell Miss Seymour here, impudence is a bad prostitute for honesty." Though Selina could not quite understand the full import of Mrs. Sullivan's observations, which she endeavoured to render still more significant by shrugs and gestures; yet by the heightened colour of the lady's complexion, and a transient gravity that passed over the countenances of both gentlemen, she plainly discovered the conversation had taken a turn unpleasant to all parties; therefore, with that true politeness which arises from natural benevolence, she endeavoured to soothe the irrascible feelings of each, by diverting their thoughts into another channel. To Mrs. Sullivan she paid an elegant, and not very exaggerated compliment on Cecilia's particularly good looks. To Mr. Webberly's request that she would dance with him, she acceded with an alacrity, that seemed to verify her expression of regret that her other engagements obliged her to postpone hers with him for some dances; and by sending Sedley on an embassy to Lady Eltondale, she prevented a renewal of the skirmish between him and the offended mother, which the equivocal expression of his countenance led her to believe was not an impossible event. "Lawk, mama!" exclaimed Miss Webberly, in an elevated tone, as soon as he had left the groupe, "I wonder you can condescend to notice him so;—you're always fighting him now." "Vhy I know, Meely, I oughtn't to demon myself to such a feller; but I can't bear, not I, to see him ballooning (lampooning) poor Jack there, while every feature in his physiology shows that he's mocking him up all the time:—I can't bear no such hypercritics, not I." Cecilia now warmly undertook his defence, which she entered upon with still more zeal as the subject of her mother's philippic had made an amende honorable to her at least, by engaging her for the same set that her brother was to dance with Miss Seymour, who in the mean time having succeeded in parting the combatants, had gone to resume her station amongst the dancers.

The time at last arrived for the fulfilment of Selina's engagement with Webberly, and they stood up together. At first the youth was so busily engaged in settling his cravat, putting on and taking off his glove, and eyeing askance his neighbour the Duke of Saltoun, all of whose motions he endeavoured to imitate, that he had no time to attend to his fair partner. At last he recollected his duty, and hastily stepping across the dance, prepared to give utterance to a tender speech he had composed in the morning. But as he stooped forward to pour the soft accents in his fair one's ear, having, like the simple partridge, safely deposited his head, he became careless of the rest of his person; and unfortunately his noble prototype the Duke, at the same moment exerting himself vigorously in a Highland fling, came unexpectedly in contact with the dying swain, and threw him sprawling into the arms of his mistress, before either were prepared for so novel a situation. The salute was as little agreeable to poor Selina as it was unexpected, and she hastily disengaged herself from Webberly before he had succeeded in recovering his balance, or the Duke had uttered more than half his apologies. At last the youth accomplished regaining that erect posture, which is man's first characteristic, and returned in silence to his place opposite Selina, where he occupied himself, indefatigably in pulling down his coat behind, pushing up his hair before, and looking sternly round, in the vain hope of suppressing the titter that buzzed on all sides of him. Thus without his renewing the attack, did they reach in silence the top of the dance, and before the effect of his disaster was obliterated from his mind or his countenance, their turn came to begin. He now determined, by increased exertions, to make amends for his unfortunate commencement, and by dint of manual labour to eclipse even the Duke of Saltoun in agility. His figure was athletic, and his limbs were ponderous; but art, in nature's despight, had made him at least an active dancer. And now he cut, and he leapt, and he sprang into the air, till the perspiration burst from his forehead. If by chance he got foremost down the middle, he dragged Selina's fragile form after him, vi et armis, the whole length of the set; but this inconvenience she did not often encounter, for he generally spent so much longer time than necessary in his coupees, and his settings, and his pirouettes, that he was forced to sail down the middle after his partner, like another Johnny Gilpin, while with terror in their countenances all beholders cleared the course before him. It was impossible for Selina long to endure the danger and fatigue of such a partner; and before they had half measured the length of the set, (except by the flying visits before mentioned) she proposed retiring to the bottom. But that situation was not more propitious to our hero than the top had been; long before he became stationary his breath was exhausted, and that gradual extension of the lungs, which he intended to be the

became an audible and protracted groan, whilst his eyes, starting from their sockets from the violence of his exertions, were any thing but the messengers of passion. "Good God! Miss Seymour, what is the name of your partner?" exclaimed Sir James Fenton, as he calmly surveyed the gasping hero through his spy-glass:—"Mr. Weatherly do you call him? Poor young man! he must dance for the good of his health! Tam O' Shanter himself never saw such 'louping and flinging' as he has exhibited to-night—pray introduce me to him." Then without waiting for the solicited presentation, he advanced to the new Vestris, and, with all possible gravity, began to compliment him on "his astonishing performance." Each compliment called forth a fresh specimen from the flattered beau, as he was turned, or otherwise joined in the dance, to the infinite amusement of the surrounding crowd; and what between the necessary application of his pocket handkerchief, the exhibition of his extraordinary talent, and the proper returns of bows and smiles to every address of the malicious Sir James Fenton, he had no time left for courtship.

Supper was at length announced, and Sedley, who with his partner had been standing near Selina, offered her his arm, alleging, that Mr. Webberly was too busy just then to attend to her: "Yes, (replied Selina laughingly, passing her arm through his) my Achilles seems only vulnerable in the heel to-night." But Cecilia not choosing to lose any share of Sedley's attention, roared out, "Why, brother! brother John, what are you capering there for, like a great jack-ass, as you are, and leaving Miss Seymour to take care of herself?" The hint was not lost upon him—he made one entrechat which cleared the intimidated throng, and brought him to Selina's side, then seizing her hand, he led her triumphantly off before she had time to remonstrate, or he to recover sufficient breath to apologize for his previous inattention. However he fully determined to make up for his lost opportunity at the supper table; and therefore, fearful of interruption, was by no means desirous to find room for his mother and sister, who with Sedley and Cecilia joined them. But Miss Seymour's politeness to her guests counteracted his design; and while he was fortifying himself with a copious draught of champagne, as a necessary preliminary to the declaration he purposed making, Mrs. Sullivan was endeavouring to insinuate herself into the little space which her daughters had reserved for her, with more attention to their own comfort, than to their parent's circumference. At last, however, she became seated, and, with maternal solicitude, immediately turned her anxious eye on her beloved son's countenance. But great was her dismay, and rapid was her utterance, as the following eloquent address burst forth in a sharp contralto key, "Vhy, Jack! Lord deliver me, Jack! you be all of a lather! And your nose, child, as smutty as a sweep's, from one end to t'other; why what, in the name of mercy, have you been about? Oh! vhy your hands be puxzy, I suppose, and so they have taken all the japanning off Miss Seymour's fan here, I suppose."—"Mother can't ye mind your own business, and leave mine alone," roared the dutiful son, in a voice of thunder, at the same time profiting by the hint he condemned, and again wiping his face.—"Vhy I only tell you for own good, Jacky; but you are grown so copious of late, there's no wenturing to speak a vord, and my advice never makes no oppression on you, else I'd discommend your buttoning your waistcoat; and if you impress that ere wiolent perspiration you're in, I shall have you laid up in a titmouse fever, that's all Jack.—I know it ba'nt the fashion to mind any thing a parent says, now-a-days; but if I vasn't your own mother that bared ye, you'd attend to me, fast enough; though, (continued she, turning to Selina,) Miss Seymour, a vife is another guess matter to a young man; and Jack would make a wery good husband, I'm certain, if you'd but fancy him, though he's not quite so diligent to me as he might be."

Meantime, poor Jack, his faculties almost benumbed with his mother's rhetoric, and his own previous exhaustion, had allowed her to proceed without interruption, while he busied himself in buttoning the unfortunate waistcoat, that had called forth her animadversions. But his evil stars still pursued him: in his agitation he also buttoned up the greater part of the very pocket handkerchief which had before been in such constant requisition; one unlucky corner alone escaped; and, as he stood up to help himself to a fresh bottle of champagne that was at some distance, this singular appendage struck his anxious parent with fresh dismay. Her exclamations, at his extraordinary appearance, were too much for the risible muscles of the rest of the company. A universal shout of laughter burst from the whole table. In vain did Mrs. Sullivan roar out, "Button it up, Jack! button it up!" In vain did Jack cast the most indignant glances, not only upon her, but upon the whole company. The laugh was not to be repressed; and, starting up, with a tremendous oath, the unfortunate Webberly rushed out of the room.

It may be supposed, Selina did not much regret his absence; and in the following dance, Sedley's inimitable caricature of the whole family amply compensated to her for the trifling mortification their vulgarity had occasioned. To use the language of the Morning Post, "The dancing was continued till a late hour, when the company departed, highly gratified by the splendor of the entertainment, the elegance of the hostess, and the unrivalled charms of her accomplished niece."