A new set of beaux and belles were occupying the places of those who had been prominent when he first came forward; those who had been the gayest of the dancers then, were now wives and mothers, and most of them withdrawn from such assemblies. The men looked to him like boys, and the “boys” returned the compliment, and called him an “old fellow.” The beauties were most of them penniless; and it so happened that the few girls of fortune in society just at that time, were any thing but beauties; and Harrington wanted to suit his taste as well as his necessities, and he hated to do any thing he did not like; and he detested an ugly woman. He had always been very dainty of his feelings, and he could now neither work nor marry, if it was not in exact accordance with his taste. And, altogether, society did not seem to him the same as it once had been. Somehow it had lost its zest and freshness. He did not know where the change was, but he felt there was a change that robbed it of all its charm. The secret was, that he was no longer a person of consequence, and excited no sensation among the young belles he saw around him. His first glow of youth and beauty was gone; and he had acquired no reputation to stand him in its stead in youthful eyes. He had no fortune either, and mammas and daughters don’t court and flatter a _ci-devant jeune homme_, who is no match. Nor was he called agreeable. He was bitter, and cynical, and egotistical; and girls don’t want to talk to men who talk always of themselves, particularly when there is nothing in their attentions to flatter their vanity. Women expect either to be amused, or to have their feelings interested, or their pride gratified. Now Arthur Harrington did none of these things, and consequently he thought society a “bore,” and society was beginning to return the compliment.