I had, however, no small difficulty to keep him from abusing my friend Augusta.  He had once danced with her, and their commerce had not been much to her advantage.  I defended her upon the score of her amiable simplicity and unaffected ingenuousness, but I could not have the courage to contradict him when he said he had no notion she was very brilliant by the conversation he had had with her.  Augusta, indeed, is nothing less than brilliant:  but she is natural, artless, and very affectionate. just before she went to dance her minuet, upon my admiring her bouquet, which was the most beautiful in the room, she tore from it the only two moss roses in it, and so spoilt it all before her exhibition, merely that I might have the best of it.

Country dances were now preparing, and after a little further chat, Captain Bouchier asked me for the honour of my hand, but I had previously resolved not to dance, and therefore declined his offer.  But he took, of the sudden, a fancy to prate with me, and therefore budged not after the refusal.

He told me this was the worst ball for company there had been the whole season ; and, with a wicked laugh that was too Significant to be misunderstood, said, “And, as you have been to no other, perhaps you will give this for a specimen of a Bath ball!”

He told me he had very lately met with Hannah More, and 186

then mentioned Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Carter, whence he took occasion to say most high and fine things of the ladies of the present age,—­their writings, and talents; and I soon found he had no small reverence for us blue-stockings.

About this time Charlotte,(127) who had confessedly dressed herself for dancing, but whose pretty face had by some means been overlooked, drawled towards us, and asked me why I would not dance?

“I never intended it,” said I, “but I hoped to have seen you.”

“No,” said she, yawning, “no more shall I,—­I don’t choose.”

“Don’t you ?” said Captain Bouchier, dryly, “why not?

“Why, because I don’t like it.”

“O fie!” cried he; “consider how cruel that is.”

“I must consider myself,” said she, pertly; “for I don’t choose to heat myself this hot weather.”

just then a young man came forward, and requested her hand.  She coloured, looked excessively silly, and walked off with him to join the dancers.  When, between the dances, she came our way, he plagued her, `a la Sir Clement.(128)

“Well,” cried he, “so you have been dancing this hot night!  I thought you would have considered yourself better?”

“Oh,” said she, “I could not help it—­I had much rather not;—­it was quite disagreeable to me.”

" No, no,—­pardon me there!” said he, maliciously; “I saw pleasure dance first in your eyes; I never saw you look more delighted:  you were quite the queen of smiles!”

She looked as if she could have killed him; and yet, from giddiness and good-humour, was compelled to join in the laugh.