you.—But what was the matter with you last night? I had just been saying that you looked so very grave. Notwithstanding which, Lord Dallas could think, and talk only of you. He says your chevelure is perfectly grecian—the black ringlets upon the white skin; but I never listen to any compliment that is not paid directly or indirectly to myself. He is quite adorable:—do you not think so, hey?—no—I see he is too full of admiration for you—too refined. Lady Avondale's heart must be won in a far different manner:—insult—rudeness—is the way to it.—What! blush so deeply! Is the affair, then, too serious for a jest? Why, mon enfant, you look like Miss Macvicker this morning.—And is it true she will soon be united to you by the ties of blood, as she now seems to be by those of sympathy and congeniality of soul?"
The eternal Count Gondimar, and afterwards Buchanan interrupted Lady Augusta's attack. New topics of discourse
