One young gentleman proposed that we might play with pantines, a ridiculous fashion of paper doll then in vogue as a toy for ladies with nothing to do: another that we should go hear the ingenious Mr. King lecture on Astronomy: another that we should raffle for chocolate creams: another that we should do nothing at all, “for,” said he, “why do we come to the Wells but for rest and quiet? and if Miss Pleydell and her maid of honour do but grant us the privilege of beholding their charms, what need we of anything but rest?
“‘To walk and dine, and walk and sup,
To fill the leisure moments up,
Idly enough but to the few
Who’ve really nothing else to do.
Yet here the sports exulting reign,
And laughing loves, a num’rous train;
Here Beauty holds her splendid court,
And flatt’ring pleasures here resort.’”
I, for one, should have enjoyed the witnessing of a little sport better than the homage of lovers.
“Here is Miss Peggy Baker,” cried Nancy, jumping up. “Oh! I must speak to my dear friend Miss Peggy.”
Miss Baker was walking slowly down the Terrace, accompanied by her little troop of admirers. At sight of us her face clouded for a moment, but she quickly recovered and smiled a languid greeting.
“Dear Miss Peggy,” cried Nancy—I knew she was going to say something mischievous—“you come in the nick of time.”
“Pray command me,” she replied graciously.
“It is a simple question”—Miss Baker looked suspicious. “Oh! a mere trifle”—Miss Baker looked uneasy. “It is only—pray, gentlemen, were any of you in the book-shop this morning?”
All protested that they were not—a denial which confirmed my opinion that impertinence was coming.
“Nay,” said Nancy, “we all know the truthfulness of gallants, which is as notorious as their constancy. Had you been there you would not have paid Miss Pleydell those pretty compliments which are as well deserved as they are sincere. But, Miss Peggy, a scandalous report hath got abroad. They say that you said, this morning, at the book-shop, that Kitty Pleydell’s eyes squinted.”