"What a Babel!" said Ida, as they entered the thronged rooms.
"And what a waste of breath!" replied Charley. "There is neither sociability, or rational enjoyment, to be had in these very large assemblies."
"I rather like the excitement of the crowd;" said Ida, "it affects me strangely, but agreeably; with the same sensation the waves may feel in their sports,—a tumultuous glee at being a part of the restless whole,—never still, and always bounding onward."
"How do you account for it? Is it magnetism—animal electricity?"
"Perhaps so. If, as some contend, we are electrical machines, the revolving currents of the subtle fluid must operate powerfully upon the system of each, in a crowd like this. But to leave speculative ground—perilous to me, inasmuch as I do not know what I am talking about—"
"And I understand the science less," interrupted he. "You remember the Scotchman's definition of metaphysics—what were you going to ask?"
"Why you dislike these scenes? I fancied you would be in your element."
"Excuse me for saying that I suspect you class me among amphibious creatures—a sui generis—equally at home in the air, earth, and water, and not over-well qualified for any of these states of existence."
Ida would have disclaimed; but he had come too near the mark; the eyes that asked a reply were penetrating as laughing; she was thankful that the bridal party released her from their regards.
"The bride is pretty," he observed, when the confusion was a little over.