ent, don't let us anticipate; if any such apple should come
into my lap, let it not be that of discord between us."

"Who talks of discord?" asked Lady Roseville, joining us.

"Lord Vincent," said I, "fancies himself the celebrated fruit, on which
was written, detur pulcerrimoe, to be given to the fairest. Suffer me
therefore, to make him a present to your ladyship."

Vincent muttered something which, as I really liked and esteemed him,
I was resolved not to hear; accordingly I turned to another part of
the room: there I found Lady Dawton--she was a tall, handsome woman,
as proud as a liberal's wife ought to be. She received me with unusual
graciousness, and I sat myself beside her. Three dowagers, and an old
beau of the old school, were already sharing the conversation with the
haughty countess. I found that the topic was society.

"No," said the old beau, who was entitled Mr. Clarendon, "society is
very different from what it was in my younger days. You remember, Lady
Paulet, those delightful parties at D--House? where shall we ever find
any thing like them? Such ease, such company--even the mixture was
so piquant, if one chanced to sit next a bourgeois, he was sure to be
distinguished for his wit or talent. People were not tolerated, as now,
merely for their riches."

"True," cried Lady Dawton, "it is the introduction of low persons,
without any single pretension, which spoils the society of the present
day!" And the three dowagers sighed amen, to this remark.

"And yet," said I, "since I may safely say so here without being
suspected of a personality in the shape of a compliment, don't you
think, that without any such mixture, we should be very indifferent
company? Do we not find those dinners and soirees the pleasantest where
we see a minister next to a punster, a poet to a prince, and a coxcomb
like me next to a beauty like Lady Dawton? The more variety there is in
the conversation, the more agreeable it becomes."

"Very just," answered Mr. Clarendon; "but it is precisely because I wish
for that variety that I dislike a miscellaneous society. If one does
not know the person beside whom one has the happiness of sitting, what
possible subject can one broach with any prudence. I put politics aside,
because, thanks to party spirit, we rarely meet those we are strongly
opposed to; but if we sneer at the methodists, our neighbour may be a
saint--if we abuse a new book, he may have written it--if we observe
that t