azilian
ladies."

"Thank you, Cousin Roger, I cannot waltz," said Henrietta.

"That's a pity. Come, Jessie, then."

If the practice of waltzing was not to be admired, there was something
which was very nice in the perfect good humour with which Jessie
answered her cousin's summons, without the slightest sign of annoyance
at his evident preference of Henrietta's newer face.

"If I can't waltz, I can play for you," said Henrietta, willing not to
seem disobliging; and going to the piano, she played whilst Roger and
Jessie whirled merrily round the room, every now and then receiving
shocks against the furniture and minding them not the least in the
world, till at last, perfectly out of breath, they dropped laughing upon
the sofa.

The observations upon the wild spirits of sailors ashore then sank into
silence; Mrs. Roger Langford reproved her son for making such a racket,
as was enough to kill his Aunt Mary; with a face of real concern he
apologised from the bottom of his heart, and Aunt Mary in return assured
him that she enjoyed the sight of his merriment.

Grandmamma announced in her most decided tone that she would have no
waltzes and no polkas at her party. Roger assured her that there was no
possibility of giving a dance without them, and Jessie seconded him as
much as she ventured; but Mrs. Langford was unpersuadable, declaring
that she would have no such things in her house. Young people in her
days were contented to dance country dances; if they wanted anything
newer, they might have quadrilles, but as to these new romps, she would
not hear of them.

And here, for once in her life, Beatrice was perfectly agreed with her
grandmamma, and she came to life again, and sat forward to join in the
universal condemnation of waltzes and polkas that was going on round the
table.

With this drop of consolation to her, the party broke up, and Jessie,
as she walked home to Sutton Leigh, found great solace in determining
within herself that at any rate waltzing was not half so bad as dressing
up and play-acting, which she was sure her mamma would never approve.

Beatrice came to her aunt's room, when they went upstairs, and
petitioned for a little talk, and Mrs. Frederick Langford, with kind
pity for her present motherless condition, accepted her visit, and even
allowed her to outstay Bennet, during whose operations the discussion of
the charade, and the history of the preparations and contrivances gave
subject to a v