by warmth than respect. Her demoralising example seems to have withdrawn all reserve from the ladies who form her coterie, for each was occupied exclusively by the favourite beau of the season. In short, "lovers were all they ought to be, and husbands not the least alarmed." Lady Annandale was the only woman in the room ignorant of the exact relative positions of all the parties; but Miss Montressor penetrated the whole at a glance, as I could perceive by the significant looks she exchanged with the comtesse.

Already has Lady Annandale become the object of marked attention of more than one of the young roués of fashion who hover round her, mingling compliments on her beauty with piquant anecdotes of most of the ladies present.

"Observe," said Lord Henry Mercer," how angry Lady Harlestone looks: she is jealous

of the Comtesse Hohenlinden, with whom she

has discovered Charles Fitzhardinge has been flirting during her absence at Paris.”

"And what right has she to be jealous of that?" asked Lady Annandale, looking as guileless and as innocent as-she is.

This question produced a smile from Lord Henry, who answered it by saying, "Your ladyship is the only person in London, or, at least, in our circle, that could require to be informed why; for every one knows that Charles Fitzhardinge has been the adorer of Lady Harlestone ever since she gave George Seymour his congé."

"Oh! I thought Lady Harlestone was a married woman," replied Lady Annandale, with naïveté.

This produced more than a smile, for the two coxcombs who heard it laughed downright.

"And what does your ladyship suppose

she now is?" asked Lord Henry.

"A widow, of course," was the answer.

This gave rise to another laugh, and Lady Annandale appeared embarrassed. I changed the subject, and engaged her in a conversation relative to the Delawards, and her father and mother- two themes that never fail to interest her sufficiently to withdraw her attention from all others; and the two beaux walked away, voting, I dare be sworn, Lady Annandale a fool, or, at least, not far removed from that condition. I saw them go to the Comtesse Hohenlinden; and, from her laughter, and the looks cast at Lady Annandale, they were, I am sure, relating to her the simplicity, or, as they would most probably term it, the bétise, de la beauté.

The comtesse, with that vanity and spirit of coquetry which characterise her, appears

now determined to exhibit Annandale as being more than ever the slave of her charms. She thinks that this is the only way of proving their power to the world; and she goes about hanging on his arm, and positively affecting to display the tendresse she affiches him to entertain for her. His vanity is quite equal to hers; and, to have the credit of making her dismiss one or two of the pretenders to her favour, he is capable of compromising himself, and behaving ill to Lady Annandale. Already he presumes to treat her with a nonchalance which, if it does not amount to ill-breeding, is, at least, far removed from that respectful attention which every man owes to his wife; and, short as has been their séjour in town, people already begin to comment on his being what they call "so fashionable" a husband.

An observation of Lady Annandale had

so much innocence in it, that I was glad no one heard it but myself, conscious as I am of the evil interpretations to which it would subject her.

"I scarcely know the persons around me," said she. "How happy they all seem, and how deeply occupied with each other! It is pleasant to see married people so much attached; though, I confess, I prefer witnessing that delicate and respectful attention which distinguishes Lord Delaward's manner towards his wife, to the familiarity, affectionate as it appears, of the gentlemen around us, to theirs. And yet it surprises me, too; for Lord Annandale told me, that in society it was not customary for men to sit by their wives, or to walk about with them, but the persons around us never quit each other."

If this innocent speech were promulgated, Lady Annandale would be ridiculed by every