“Yes, too elaborate; too highly finished; nothing of the pittore improvisatore. A party of this kind should be more sketchy in its style; the outline more free, and less detail.”
“Essper is coming out to-day,” said Vivian to Miss Fane, “after a long, and, I venture to say, painful forbearance. However, I hope you will excuse him. It seems to amuse us.”
“I think it is delightful. See! here he comes again.”
He now appeared in his original costume; the one in which Vivian first met him at the fair. Bowing, he threw his hand carelessly over his mandolin, and having tried the melody of its strings, sang with great taste, and a sweet voice; sweeter from its contrast with its previous shrill tones; a very pretty romance. All applauded him very warmly, and no one more so than Miss Fane.
“Ah! inimitable Essper George, how can we sufficiently thank you! How well he plays! and his voice is quite beautiful. Oh! could not we dance? would not it be delightful? and he could play on his guitar. Think of the delicious turf!”
Omnes, “Delightful! delightful!” They rose from the table.
“Violet, my dear,” asked Lady Madeleine, “what are you going to do?”
“By the toe of Terpsichore!” as Mr. St. Leger would say, “I am going to dance.”
“But remember, to-day you have done so much! let us be moderate; though you feel so much better, still think what a change to-day has been from your usual habits!”
“But, dearest Lady Madeleine, think of dancing on the turf, and I feel so well!”