a little while diplomatic relations were
fairly established, and away we all went to the Assembly Rooms, Glenville
whispering to me and Barton, "I have made up my mind to get rid of that
pink muslin to-night or perish in the attempt." I had no opportunity at
the moment of asking him what he meant, but I was sure he meant mischief.
However, I never gave the matter a second thought, as the business of
dancing soon commenced. Captains O'Brien and Kelly were already waltzing
with the two Misses Bankes, and whispering delightful nothings into their
curls as we entered. The artist was floundering in a persevering manner
with pretty Miss Bagshaw, and the doctor was standing in the doorway
ruminating hopefully on the probable effects of low dresses and cold
draughts. Thornton was soon engrossed in the charms of his lady love,
and Barton, Glenville, and I were doing our duty by all the young ladies.
The room was well filled, and, though not well lighted nor well
appointed, was large and cheerful enough. The German Band performed
prodigies; the row was simply deafening. There were a few seats by the
walls for those who did not dance, and there was a room for lemonade,
cakes, and bad ices for those who liked them, as well as a small room in
which the old fogies could play a rubber of whist.

Mrs. Delamere had pinned Mr. Bankes in a corner, and was enlarging to him
upon one of her favourite topics.

"The Church of England," said she, "is undoubtedly in great danger, but
why should we regret it? It has become a thing of the past, and so have
chivalry and monasteries. The mind of the nineteenth century is marching
on to its goal. The intellect of England is asserting itself. I have
ever loved the intellect of England, haven't you?"

"Oh, quite so--ah, yes, certainly, of course!" said Mr. Bankes.

"You agree with me," said Mrs. Delamere; "I was sure you would. This is
most delightful. I have seldom talked with any true thinker who does not
agree with me."

"I am sure," said Mr. Bankes gallantly, "no one would venture to cope
with such an accomplished disputant."

"Perhaps not," she said complacently, "but I should not desire to
disagree with anyone upon religious subjects. The great desideratum--you
see I understand the Latin tongue, Mr. Bankes--the great desideratum is
harmony--the harmony of the soul! How are we to arrive at harmony? that
is the pressing question."

* * * * *

"Bagshaw, you are a low cheat, si