ve watched a beautiful panther at the
Zoological Gardens, so bright of eye, so sleek of coat, so slim in form,
so sweet and agile in her spring.

A more brilliant young coquette than Miss Newcome, in her second season,
these eyes never looked upon, that is the truth. In her first year,
being engaged to Lord Kew, she was perhaps a little more reserved and
quiet. Besides, her mother went out with her that first season, to whom
Miss Newcome except for a little occasional flightiness, was invariably
obedient and ready to come to call. But when Lady Kew appeared as her
duenna, the girl's delight seemed to be to plague the old lady, and she
would dance with the very youngest sons merey to put grandmamma in a
passion. In this way poor young Cubley (who has two hundred a year of
allowance, besides eighty, and an annual rise of five in the Treasury)
actually thought that Ethel was in love with him, and consulted with the
young men in his room in Downing Street, whether two hundred and eighty
a year, with five pound more next year, would be enough for them to keep
house on? Young Tandy of the Temple, Lord Skibbereen's younger son, who
sate in the House for some time on the Irish Catholic side, was also
deeply smitten, and many a night in our walks home from the parties at
the other end of the town, would entertain me with his admiration and
passion for her.

"If you have such a passion for her, why not propose?" it was asked of
Mr. Tandy.

"Propose! propose to a Russian Archduchess," cries young Tandy. "She's
beautiful, she's delightful, she's witty. I have never seen anything
like her eyes; they send me wild--wild," says Tandy--(slapping his
waistcoat under Temple Bar)--"but a more audacious little flirt never
existed since the days of Cleopatra."

With this opinion likewise in my mind, I had been looking on during
Clive's proceedings with Miss Ethel--not, I say, without admiration
of the young lady who was leading him such a dance. The waltz over, I
congratulated him on his own performance. His Continental practice had
greatly improved him. "And as for your partner, it is delightful to see
her," I went on. "I always like to be by when Miss Newcome dances. I had
sooner see her than anybody since Taglioni. Look at her now, with her
neck up, and her little foot out, just as she is preparing to start!
Happy Lord Bustington!"

"You are angry with her because she cut you," growls Clive. "You know
you said she cut you, or forgot