"Could you fancy, my lady, that the vulgar mother asked young Mr. Beresford what his intentions were because he had danced twice with that fright, her daughter Bell, out of sheer pity? Lor', what fun young Beresford is making of her!"
"Ridiculous! vastly amusing!" exclaimed Lady Betty.
"But there is another marriage spoken of. I hear you are to give your beautiful ward"—Lady Betty's friends always took care to call Griselda a ward, not a niece—"to Sir Maxwell Danby. He has a fine place, upon my word," said an old beau, who posed as a young one. "He has a fine place, and a pretty fortune. I congratulate you, madam, and the young lady. For my part, I always have reckoned her the belle of Bath this season."
Lady Betty smiled, and accepted the congratulation and the admiration at the same time.
"Sir Maxwell had just left her," she said.
"Where is the young lady?" the old gentleman asked. "Upon my word, Danby is a lucky fellow. There are many who will envy him. I confess I am one."
"Yes. I say, where is Miss Mainwaring?" Lord Basingstoke asked.
And Lady Betty, flirting her fan vigorously, said:
"She has a headache, and will not be at the Assembly to-night, I fear."