ared in a mood the most unquiet and
unaccommodating. She would not sit still two seconds. She was hot; she
fanned herself; complained of want of air and space. She remarked that,
in her opinion, when people had finished their tea they ought to leave
the tables, and announced distinctly that she expected to faint if the
present state of things continued. Mr. Sam offered to accompany her into
the open air; just the way to give her her death of cold, she alleged.
In short, his post became untenable; and having swallowed his quantum of
tea, he judged it expedient to evacuate.

Moore should have been at hand, whereas he was quite at the other
extremity of the room, deep in conference with Christopher Sykes. A
large corn-factor, Timothy Ramsden, Esq., happened to be nearer; and
feeling himself tired of standing, he advanced to fill the vacant seat.
Shirley's expedients did not fail her. A sweep of her scarf upset her
teacup: its contents were shared between the bench and her own satin
dress. Of course, it became necessary to call a waiter to remedy the
mischief. Mr. Ramsden, a stout, puffy gentleman, as large in person as
he was in property, held aloof from the consequent commotion. Shirley,
usually almost culpably indifferent to slight accidents affecting dress,
etc., now made a commotion that might have become the most delicate and
nervous of her sex. Mr. Ramsden opened his mouth, withdrew slowly, and,
as Miss Keeldar again intimated her intention to "give way" and swoon on
the spot, he turned on his heel, and beat a heavy retreat.

Moore at last returned. Calmly surveying the bustle, and somewhat
quizzically scanning Shirley's enigmatical-looking countenance, he
remarked that in truth this was the hottest end of the room, that he
found a climate there calculated to agree with none but cool
temperaments like his own; and putting the waiters, the napkins, the
satin robe--the whole turmoil, in short--to one side, he installed
himself where destiny evidently decreed he should sit. Shirley subsided;
her features altered their lines; the raised knit brow and inexplicable
curve of the mouth became straight again; wilfulness and roguery gave
place to other expressions; and all the angular movements with which she
had vexed the soul of Sam Wynne were conjured to rest as by a charm.
Still no gracious glance was cast on Moore. On the contrary, he was
accused of giving her a world of trouble, and roundly charged with being
the cause