"But you are putting yourself out of the world, Dolly."
"I mean it," said she with a little nod at him. "The Lord's people are not of the world, Mr. St. Leger; and the world does not like their ways. Never did."
"I wonder if all Puritans are as quaint as you," said he, kissing the hand he held. But then he went off to the Pincian.
And there, surely, was a most wonderful, rich, and varied scene; a concourse of people of all characters and nationalities—except the small party in the world which Dolly represented; a kaleidoscope view of figures and costumes, classes and callings, most picturesque, most diversified, most changeful. There were the Thayers, amongst others; and as they joined company with the Copley party, of course Mrs. Copley's pleasure was greatly increased; for in a crowd it is always pleasant to know somebody. Mr. Copley knew several people. Mrs. Thayer had leisure to tell and ask whatever she had a mind with Mrs. Copley, and to improve her acquaintance with Mr. St. Leger; who on his part managed to get some conversation with the beautiful Christina. It was a distinction to be talking to such a beauty, and he felt it so; and Christina on her part was not insensible to the fact that the young man was himself very handsome, and unexceptionably well dressed, and the heir to many thousands; therefore a person of importance. The time on the Pincian Hill that evening was very pleasantly spent; and so Mrs. Copley told her daughter on their return.
"Mrs. Thayer said she was very sorry not to see you," Mrs. Copley added.
"I am much obliged to her."
"You are not obliged to her at all, for she didn't mean it. That's what you get by staying behind."
"What?" said Dolly, dimpling up.
"That woman had it all her own way; talked to Mr. St. Leger, and let him talk to her daughter. You see, Dolly, Christina is very handsome when you are not by."
"Mother, she is at any time. She's beautiful. You must not set me up in comparison with her."