“Your feelings are just what they ought to be, ardent and affectionate, but your judgment, I fear,” added he, with a smile, “is no better—than my own.”
“Then what shall I do?” asked Catharine, despairingly.
“Do, my dear Catharine? Do—nothing.”
“Well, this is sentence of death, indeed, upon my talents for meddling; but never mind, I am so much more anxious to serve you than to distinguish myself, that I will—try.”
She kept her promise; and for a month at least, Ada was suffered to like or dislike Mr. Stanley in peace. During this time, many parties were given to the popular bride; and though Ada was not fond of balls, still, as bridemaid, she was forced not only to attend them, but to accept as much attention as the enemy chose to offer. He was careful that this attention should be no more than etiquette required of him; and it was so unobtrusive, that at length Ada felt less and less embarrassed in his presence, and ceased to think of his acquaintance as the greatest misfortune of her life.
——
CHAPTER IV.
“Noch seh’ ich sie
Die herrlichste von allen, stand sie da.”
At length, to Ada’s infinite relief, came the last of Catharine’s bridal parties. This was one of the largest and gayest of the season; and the throng was so great that the two friends were separated soon after entering the room, and saw nothing of each other till the evening was more than half over.