"And what did he talk about?"
"Oh, nothing in particular," said Lucy, coloring.
"And did you hear his name?" enquired Miss Foster, almost restraining her breath.
"Beauclerc," said Lucy; "is it not a pretty name?"
"You must have nothing more to say to him, if he talks such in a way that you blush already. Will you promise me?" said she, most violently.
"You must give me some reason."
"Imprudent girl, you must take my warning."
"If he were making love, I might consider," said Lucy; "but, as a common acquaintance, and a delightful dancer, you must give me some reason for cutting him."
"You are rash," repeated Miss Foster; "do not have anything to say to him, or you will repent it."
"I am not to be led blind-folded," said Lucy; "and you must prove me in danger before I can think such advice needed. Pray let us talk of something else—my poor beaux always tease you."