"Now, then," thought I, "his hour is come." While glorying in this imagined security, I was hurled down into the depths of despair; for we scarcely reached the Mall, when we met some fine showy-looking women, whom I thought _old_, as they seemed past five-and-twenty. Seymour, to my great consternation, inquired who these _lovely creatures_ were, declaring they were the handsomest women he had seen since he had left London. "My cousin can introduce you," said Harriet Pendarves. "I! not I, indeed!" "Why not, dear Helen!" cried Seymour. "Because--because I have only lately known them." "Oh! that is quite enough," he hastily returned; but I still refused. However, the ladies returned, accompanied by a young man of Seymour's acquaintance; and in a few minutes we beheld him laughing and talking with the party. My feelings at that moment still live in my memory as vividly as ever. I was thunder-struck. What! Seymour Pendarves, the friend of my childhood, to leave me for women whom he never saw before; and call them handsomer than any thing he had seen since he left London! It was in vain that two youths of my acquaintance--one of them a young lord--joined my deserted side: I was silent, absent, and unhappy; for Seymour remained with his new acquaintance. It never occurred to me to talk and laugh with my beaux, for I was a stranger to coquetry, and the natural feelings of my heart were allowed to display themselves: still, an untaught delicacy made me try to hide the cause of my oddness from my companions; and a headache, which was not feigned, was my excuse. The ladies, however, at length left the walk, and Seymour was forced to return to us. He immediately launched forth into rapturous praises of their charms and elegant manners, while I listened in angry silence, as I had expected him to apologize for leaving me; and nothing, I perceived, was further from his thoughts. "But what is the matter?" cried he. "Are you not well, Helen, that you do not speak?" "Not quite." "Helen has a headache," said my cousin. "Poor child!" cried Seymour kindly; "then let us go home directly; it grows late, and I believe you do not sit up to supper yet, Helen, except on great occasions." Here was an affront. I angrily replied, "Indeed, Mr. Seymour Pendarves, you seem to know very little about me, and to _care_ very little about me now." "_Mr._, and a tossed-up chin, and a flushed face! Why, really, Helen, I find I did _not_ know much about you: I took you for a sweet-tempered girl; but I have often thought you captious and pettish of late, and I never could imagine why; but let me tell you, Miss Helen Pendarves, that if you lose your good-temper, you will lose your greatest charm--_any_ woman's greatest _charm_."