She actually shook her little elbows with vexation. A sort of titter ran through the whole room. Then, you know Mr. Brush, who is a very sensible man, but very particular and quiddling - he received this for his dose :

'Do walk like a man, and leave off that diddle;
The lady you love can't marry a quiddle.'

He supplied the last word himself, saying, 'That means me,' and walked off to a corner of the room. There were many more almost incredible chance-strokes of the same kind; but, worse than all, when the rich Miss Reed's number was called, she came up, laughing, and these words were heard all through the room:

'Although his words are sweet as honey,
His heart is fixed upon your money.'

Every one knows that she was always a little suspicious, though unjustly, that the gentleman she was engaged to was influenced in his choice by mercenary views. She grew crimson red, and she and her lover forthwith departed, evidently thinking this was a questionable sort of pastime. Many tore their tickets in pieces, and said they did

not wish a prize in such a lottery. One after another left the room, looking as if they had had their noses pulled. Mrs. Longman ordered in the ice creams -flew from one side of the room to the other-fidgeted about, and wondered why people went away so early. She said, 'It was curious, how things turned out sometimes. She thought that this would be so entertaining.' Nobody minded her ice creams, or her remarks; they only seemed anxious to get out of the house. But the worst plight of all, perhaps, was that of the ladies who had written these saucy things, at Mrs. Longman's request, without an idea of the possibility of such a catastrophe as they witnessed. At first, they stood it pretty well; but I saw them grow redder and redder; and they looked, at last, as if the candles burned blue, and they thought they saw evil spirits. Poor Mrs. Longman was sick a-bed the next day. A capital story, is it not? O, there's Mr. Henry. He likes a good story; I must tell it to him." And away she went, to tell it to the rest of the company.

"Did you," said Edward, "observe Mrs. Manners' eyes-how they wandered, while

she was telling that story? They were in search of the next person to whom she intended to relate it. She reminded me of a person whom you meet on his way to a steam-boat, or rail-car, whose face says, all the time I fear I shall be too late.' She told the story well, and she is very sensible; but what a pity that she loves admiration so much. Did you see her take notice of herself, and adjust her sleeves as she passed the pier glass? but she does not patronize, so I forgive her."

"It is not fair," said Amy, "to stand here criticising others, instead of being agreeable yourself, as you promised you would."

"I am taking the part of listener," said Edward, "which is always acceptable if it is done well."

"A warm evening," said a young lady who was near.

"Quite warm,” replied Edward.

"Delightful party, is it not?"

"Oh yes, of course.'

"How beautifully the bride looks."

"Yes, she is beautiful."

"Don't you think brides always look handsome?'

"Certainly."

"Is not her dress superb."

"I suppose so."

"I hear that Mr. Roberts is a delightful man is he not?"

"Yes, I am much attached to Mr. Roberts."

"I never talk with him, I hear he is so learned. I never talk with philosophers, I am afraid of them. Is Mrs. Roberts blue?" "What do you call blue? "Oh a lady that reads stands the onomies, the metaphysics, &c. &c."

reviews, underologies, physics,

Here the lady laughed. Before Mr. Selmar could answer her question she tried another subject.

"Have you been to the centre-table and seen the caricatures?"

"No; I do not like caricatures, unless they are very good."

"Don't you? I think they are beautiful; perhaps you do not like parties?

"Not much."

"You don't say so; I think they are beautiful; there is nothing I admire so much. Oh hush; Miss Treville is going to sing. I am so fond of music, my favorite song too."

After beating time through one bar with her pretty fan, she entered into a loud whispering conversation with a young beau who

stood next to her, which she continued through the remainder of the song."

"Do you know, Mr. Selmar," said the young lady, "that Miss Sidney is going to marry Mr. Wright?"

"No, I did not.”

"Why all the world are talking about it," said the young man.

"Are they?"

"Oh yes; and they wonder such a man should marry such a woman, to whom he will always have to play second fiddle."

“What do you suppose, is the reason, Mr. Selmar," said the belle, " that ordinary men so often take a fancy to these very fine women?"

"I suppose," answered Edward, "they have the organ of marvelousness very large, and for this reason are liable to being smitten with what is to them most mysterious, and altogether beyond their comprehension."

"How severe you are this evening," said the belle, laughing.

"But how, in such a case, do you account for the lady's choice?" asked the beau.

"That is a question too deep for my philosophy," replied Edward.

She then resumed her gossip with the beau, in an affected whisper.