did. I really pine for a little attention. It gives such a
relish to life,' said Matilda, thinking regretfully of the devoted
beings left behind.

The prudent Amanda and the stern Lavinia steeled their hearts, and iced
their countenances to the comely gentleman. But the social Matilda could
not refrain from responding to his polite advances, with a modest
'Merci, Monsieur,' as he drew the curtain for her, a smile when he
picked up the unruly curling-stick, and her best bow as he offered his
paper with a soft glance of the black eyes.

In vain Amanda tried to appal her with awful frowns; in vain Lavinia
trod warningly upon her foot: she paid no heed, and left them no hope
but the saving remembrance that she couldn't talk French.

'If the man don't get out soon, I'll tie her up in my shawl, and tell
him she is mad,' resolved Lavinia, whose spinster soul was always
scandalised at the faintest approach to a flirtation.

'If the man does speak English, Mat will have it all her own way,'
thought Amanda, remembering the vow imposed upon the reckless girl.

Alas, alas for the anxious twain! The man did _not_ get out soon, the
man _did_ speak English, and in ten minutes Matilda was off, like a colt
without a halter. The anguish of her keepers added zest to the fun, and
finding that the gentleman evidently thought her the lady of the party
(owing to the yellow gloves, smartest hat, and irreproachable boots),
and the others in sober gray and black, were maid and duenna, this
reprehensible girl kept up the joke, put on airs, and enjoyed that
flirtatious hour to her heart's content.

As if to punish the others for their distrust, and to reward Mat's
interest in him, M. le Comte devoted himself to Mademoiselle, telling
her about his hunting, his estate, and finished by inviting her and her
party to call and view his _chateau_, if they ever paused at the town,
which had the honour of being his summer residence. Mat responded to all
these courtesies with confiding sweetness, and when at length he was
desolated at being obliged to tear himself away, she

'Gave sigh for sigh,'

as he retired with a superb bow, a gallant 'Bon voyage, mesdames,' and a
wicked twinkle of the black eyes as they rested on the faces of the
frozen ladies.

'I got rather the best of the joke in that little affair: didn't I?'
said Mat, gayly, as the brown velvet Adonis vanished.

'You are a disgrace to your party and your nation,' sternly respo