"Who is he?" I heard Mrs. Aspeden ask, in a low tone, of Tom Cleaveland, as I led off Mary to the valse.
"A very good fellow," was the good-natured Cantab's reply, "with lots of tin and a glorious place. The shooting at Wilmot is really——"
"Bien!" said his aunt, as she took Lord Linton's arm to the refreshment-room, satisfied, I suppose, on the strength of my "lots of tin," that I was a safe companion for her child.
I found Mary Aspeden a most agreeable partner for a dance; she was lively, agreeable, and a coquette, I felt sure (women with those dancing eyes always are), and I thought I could not do better than amuse myself by getting up a flirtation with her. What an intensely good opinion I had of myself then! So I condescended to dance, though it was not Almack's, and actually permitted myself to be amused. Strolling through the rooms with Mary Aspeden on my arm, we entered one in which was an alcove fitted up with a vis-à-vis sofa (whoever planned that Layton ball-room had a sympathy in the bottom of his heart for tête-à-tête), and here Fane was seated, talking to his "houri" with the soft voice and winning smiles which had gained the heart, or at least what portion of that member they possessed, of so many London belles, and which would do their work here most assuredly.
"There is my cousin Florence—ah! she does not observe us. Who is the gentleman with her?" said Miss Aspeden.
"My friend, Captain Fane," I replied. "You have heard of their rencontre this morning?"
"Indeed! is he Tommy's champion, of whom he has done nothing but talk all day, and of whom I could not make Florence say one word?" asked Mary. "You must know our donkey is the most determined and resolute of animals: if she 'will, she will,' you may depend upon it!" she continued.
"Do you honor those most untrue lines upon ladies by a quotation?" I asked.
"I do not think they are so very untrue," laughed Mary, "except in confining obstinacy to us poor women and exempting the 'lords of the creation.' The Scotch adage knows better. 'A wilful man——' You know the rest."
"Quite well," I replied; "but another poet's lines on you are far more true. 'Ye are stars of the——'" I commenced.