“No sooner was the whining little creature sufficiently improved to be taken to her own home, than the house was thrown into confusion by preparations for a brilliant party.  Laura took me with her on a shopping excursion, and bade me select whatever I wished, and send the bill with hers to Mr. Somers.  I purchased a few indispensable articles, but I felt embarrassed by her calm, scrutinizing gaze, and by the consciousness that every item of my expenditures would be scanned by, perhaps, censorious eyes.

“What with my previous fatigue while acting as Ella’s nurse, and the laborious preparations for the approaching festival, I felt, as the time drew near, completely exhausted.  Yet I was determined not to so far give way to the depressing influences that surrounded me, as to absent myself from the party.  So, after snatching an interval of rest, to relieve my aching head, I dressed myself with unusual care, and repaired to the brilliantly lighted rooms.  They were already filled, and murmuring like a swarm of bees, although, as one of the guests remarked, there were more drones than workers in the hive.  I was now no drone, certainly, and that was some consolation.  When I entered, Laura was conversing with a group of dashing young men, who were blundering over a book of charades.  Seeing me enter, she came towards me immediately.

“’Cousin Fanny, you who help everybody, I want you to come to the aid of these stupid young men.  Gentlemen, this is our Cousin Fanny, the very best creature in the world.’  And with this introduction she left me, and turned to greet some new arrivals.  After discussing the charades till my ears were weary of empty and aimless chatter, I was very glad to find my group of young men gradually dispersing, and myself at liberty to look about me, undisturbed.  George soon came to me, gave me his arm, and took me to a room where were several ladies, friends of his father, and who had known me very well as a child.

“‘You remember Fanny,’ he said to them; and then left me, and devoted himself to the courteous duties of the hour.  While I was indulging in a quiet chat with a very kind old friend, she proposed to go with me to look at the dancers, as the music was remarkably fine, and it was thought the collected beauty and fashion of the evening would make a very brilliant show.  We left our seats, accordingly, but were soon engaged in the crowd, and while waiting for an opportunity to move on, I heard one of my young men ask another,

“‘How do you like la cousine?’

“I lost a part of the answer, but heard the closing words distinctly—­’et un peu passee.’ ‘Oui, decidement!’ was the prompt response, and a light laugh followed, while, shrinking close to my kind friend, I rejoiced that my short stature concealed me from observation.  I was not very well taught, but, like most school-girls, I had a smattering of French, and I knew the meaning of the very ordinary phrases that had been used with regard to me.  Before the supper-hour, my headache became so severe that I was glad to take refuge in my own room.  There I consulted my mirror, and felt disposed to forgive, the young critics for their disparaging remarks. Passee! I looked twenty-five at least, and yet I was not eighteen, and six months before I had fancied myself a beauty and an heiress!