"I would ask you to do violence to your own feelings, and appear at the dance to-night?"
"Why need I appear in a circle, where, being unknown, I cannot be missed, when I feel naturally disinclined for gaiety?"
"Because your influence is needed there. Do not think I am frivolous enough to believe, that the admiration you may possibly excite, would give you any compensation for the pain of appearing in that mourning dress, amongst the light and gay; but there is one over whom you seemed once to have some influence, who must be there, and you will have an opportunity of seeing her in society."
"Do you mean Lucy?"
"Yes—I have watched her narrowly, for some time, and think she may be made something better under proper guidance. Where is she to find that but in you? She is now attracted by a man, whose attentions are, I fear, too general to mean anything."
"Are you certain Mr. Beauclerc means nothing?" said Mabel, incredulously; "it is so difficult to decide—and almost impossible to interfere."
"Except by advice. Could you not persuade her to remain passive, and not to pay him so much open admiration?"
"Impossible;" said Mabel, "it must be that he is more reserved in the display of his attentions than she is. Are you not severe?"
"Depend upon it," returned Hargrave, "the truth is often more charitable than falsehood, and I am not speaking now in the common spirit of criticism. Lucy is rendering herself an object of general observation, and even ridicule, to the gentlemen of her acquaintance, and though I may be able to prevent such remarks being made in my presence, my influence cannot extend further. She offends all her former ball-room admirers by having eyes for no one but Beauclerc—she will dance with no one else, and pays him an open tribute of admiration, which cannot but be flattering from a pretty girl."
"But I do not see why you suppose he is indifferent to her?"