she make a noise in the gay world!"

"The beauty of the season."

"A prize, independent of her large for tune!"

"And doubly a prize with."

And thus the men prated of her among themselves.

The excitement at length subsided; and favoured by the obscurity of my
situation, I could watch at a distance all her movements, and never
tire of gazing upon that beaming face.

By some strange coincidence, I could hardly think it purely accidental,
Mrs. Hepburn and her niece came up to the table upon which I was
leaning.

I rose up in confusion, wondering if they would recognize me, and
offered the elder lady my chair.

In my hurry and agitation, the portfolio fell from my hand, and the
fine prints were scattered over the floor and table.

A general laugh arose at my expense; I felt annoyed, but laughed as
loudly as the rest. Miss Lee, very good-naturedly assisted me in
restoring the prints to their place, then looking earnestly in my face
for a few seconds, she said--"Surely, I am not deceived--you are the
gentleman who rescued me from that frightful situation in Oxford
Street."

"The same," said I, with a smile.

"How delighted I am to meet you once more," she exclaimed, giving me
her hand, and warmly shaking mine; "I was afraid that I should never
see you again. And your name--you must tell me your name."

"Geoffrey Moncton. But, Miss Lee, do not distress me by thinking so
much of a trifling service, which gave me so much pleasure."

"Trifling! do you call it? Sir, you saved my life, and I never can
forget the debt of gratitude I owe you. Aunt," turning to Mrs. Hepburn,
"do you remember this gentleman? How often we have talked that
adventure over, and wondered who my preserver was. It is such a
pleasure to see him here."

The old lady, though not quite so eloquent as her niece, was kind
enough in her way. Wishing to change the subject, I asked Miss Lee if
she drew?

"A little."

"Let us examine these beautiful prints," said I.

I gave her a chair, and leant over her. My heart fluttered with
delight. I forgot my recent mortification. I was near her, and, in the
rapture of the moment, could have defied the malice of the whole world.

"I am no judge of the merits or demerits of a picture," she said, in
her sweet, gentle voice. "I know what pleases me, and suffer my heart
to decide for my head."

"That is exactly my case, Miss Lee. A picture to interest me, must
produce the same effect upon my mind as if