"Fie, you slander yourself and me, and the whole race of men in such assertions; you no charms—no graces—I should like to know where they are to be seen, that is all, if you do not exhibit them. I am sure Mr. Harding Russell would not say so, happy man!"
"What do you know of Mr. Harding Russell?" enquired the lady turning abruptly round to him.
"Nothing at all, except that like Roy's,
"His age is three times mine"—
shall I go on?"
"Say what you please, it is better to be an old man's pet than a young man's slave," retorted she.
"Possibly, but you may reverse that saying—a young man would infallibly become your slave, fairest."
The rest of the conversation need not be detailed, it was too common-place, and trivial to deserve further notice; every one has heard two under-bred and over-pretending individuals making fools of themselves and each other, by their compliments and self-flatteries.
Very much rejoiced was Emma when the conclusion of the banquet at last allowed her the relief of a change of neighbours and conversation. As she was looking about for some one whom she could join, standing back a little to allow the tide of finery and flutter to roll past, she suddenly found Lord Osborne at her side.
"How came you to go all wrong, Miss Watson, at dinner?" enquired he abruptly.