"Yes, they were: I wanted very much, my dear aunt, to have asked you the names of all the people; but you really were so much engaged, I had no opportunity." "Ah! if you had come and sat by me, I could have told you all about them; but there were some very odd people there, too." "There was one rather interesting-looking girl I did not see dancing much--tallish, with pearl earrings." "Where was she sitting? how was she dressed?" I had only seen her standing--I never noticed--I hardly think I could have seen--even the colour of her dress. "Not know how she was dressed? My dear Frank, how strange!" "All young ladies dress alike now, aunt; there's really not much distinction: they seemed all black and white to me." "Certainly the balls don't look half so gay as they used to do: a little colour gives cheerfulness, I think." (The good old lady herself had worn crimson satin and a suite of chrysolites--if her theory were correct, she was enough to have spread a glow over the whole company.) "But let me see;--tall, with pearls, you say; dark hair and eyes?" "Yes." "You must mean Lucy Fielding." "Nonsense, my dear Ma'am--I beg a thousand pardons; but I was introduced to Miss Fielding, and danced with her--she squints." "My dear Frank, don't say such a thing!--she will have half the Strathinnis property when she comes of age. But let me see again. Had she a white rose in her hair?" "She had, I think; or something like it." "It might have been Lord Dunham's youngest daughter, who is just come out--she was there for an hour or so." "No, no, aunt: I know her by sight too--a pale gawky thing, with an arm and hand like a prize-fighter's--oh no!" "Upon my word, my dear nephew, you young men give yourselves abominable airs: call her a very fine young woman, and I've no doubt she will marry well, though she hasn't much fortune. Was it Miss Cassilis, then?--white tulle over satin, looped with roses, with gold sprigs"---- "And freckles to match: why, she's as old as"----; I felt myself on dangerous ground, and filled up the hiatus, I fear not very happily, by looking full at my aunt. "Not so very old, indeed, my dear: she refused a very good offer last season: she cannot possibly be above"-- "Oh! spare the particulars, pray, my dear Ma'am; but you could not have seen the girl I mean: I don't think she staid after supper: I looked every where for her to ask who she was, but she must have been gone." "Really! I wish I could help you," said my aunt with a very insinuating smile. "Oh," said I, "what made me anxious to know who she was at the time, was simply that I saw her talking to an old friend of mine, whom you know something of, I believe; did you not meet Mr Ormiston somewhere last winter?" "Mr Ormiston! oh, I saw him there last night! and now I know who you mean; it must have been Mary Russell, of course; she did wear pearls, and plain white muslin." "Russell! what Russells are they?"