‘And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not buy,’ said Miss Broadhurst, ’unless I could be sure to have with it all the politeness, all the noble sentiments, all the magnanimity—­in short, all that should grace and dignify high birth.’

‘Admirable!’ said Lord Colambre.  Grace Nugent smiled.

’Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my mother in mind I must go away?’

‘I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it,’ said his lordship.

‘Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?’ said Lady Catharine.  ’Miss Nugent, I am afraid we have made Miss Broadhurst talk so much, in spite of her hoarseness, that Lady Clonbrony will be quite angry with us.  And here she comes!’

My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss Broadhurst would not think of running away; but Miss Broadhurst could not be prevailed upon to stay.  Lady Clonbrony was delighted to see that her son assisted Grace Nugent most carefully in SHAWLING Miss Broadhurst; his lordship conducted her to her carriage, and his mother drew many happy auguries from the gallantry of his manner, and from the young lady’s having stayed three-quarters, instead of half an hour—­a circumstance which Lady Catharine did not fail to remark.

The dancing, which, under various pretences, Lady Clonbrony had delayed till Lord Colambre was at liberty, began immediately after Miss Broadhurst’s departure; and the chalked mosaic pavement of the Alhambra was, in a few minutes, effaced by the dancers’ feet.  How transient are all human joys, especially those of vanity!  Even on this long meditated, this long desired, this gala night, Lady Clonbrony found her triumph incomplete—­inadequate to her expectations.  For the first hour all had been compliment, success, and smiles; presently came the BUTS, and the hesitated objections, and the ‘damning with faint praise.’  All that could be borne.  Everybody has his taste—­and one person’s taste is as good as another’s; and while she had Mr. Soho to cite, Lady Clonbrony thought she might be well satisfied.  But she could not be satisfied with Colonel Heathcock, who, dressed in black, had stretched his ’fashionable length of limb’ under the statira canopy upon the snow-white swan-down couch.  When, after having monopolised attention, and been the subject of much bad wit, about black swans and rare birds, and swans being geese and geese being swans, the colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville said, to vacate his couch, that couch was no longer white—­the black impression of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.

‘Eh, now! really didn’t recollect I was in black,’ was all the apology he made.  Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed that the appearance of the statira, canopy should be spoiled before the effect had been seen by Lady Pococke, and Lady Chatterton, and Lady G—­, Lady P—­, and the Duke of V—­, and a party of superlative fashionables, who had promised to look in