“How absurd! These lecturers are a nuisance to society, and ought to be suppressed. I wonder the ghost of Shakspeare has not risen long ago, to beg that they will leave his ashes in peace.” “He ought to be much obliged to them, for unfolding his beauties to the million who have a comprehension, but no perception of the beautiful, and are quite capable both of seeing and admiring, when they have been told _what_ to see and admire.” “You are very wise and eloquent, no doubt, Ada, but I am not able this morning to take part in a discussion on literary acumen,” said her lively friend, “I am here for something less profound, and more important, Julia’s soirée.” “Well, what had you to offer, that could weigh in the balance with Mr. ——’s eloquence?” “Mr. Stanley.” “Who is Mr. Stanley? A rival lecturer?” A rival lecturer! This was too provoking of Ada to forget the name of Charles’ friend, and Catharine looked up to see if the forgetfulness might not possibly be assumed. Alas! it was but too real, and she gave full vent to her indignation, as she recalled to Ada, who and what Mr. Stanley was. “True, I had forgotten,” quietly rejoined the offender. “But surely, Kate, there is no occasion for so much warmth. How should I remember him, when I have never even seen him?” “That is just the reason why I am provoked—I wanted to present him to you last evening.” “Another time will do just as well.” “But there is no time to be lost,” replied Catharine, vehemently. “Why _we_ have no preliminaries to settle about the wedding ceremony, have we?” asked Ada, ingenuously. The question recalled Catharine to a sense of the blunder she had been about to commit, and she answered carelessly: “Oh, no! but it would be pleasanter for both, had you met before the wedding. By the bye, Ada,” added she, to change the subject, “you should have seen how handsome Charles was last night.” “I dare say! Had he chosen to deck himself with an ass’s head, Titania would have found him so.” “Poor Charles! That I should live to hear him likened to Bottom, the weaver. But I ought to know better than to expect you to appreciate him; you, who waste your love upon books and music, and—” “Saucy girls like yourself, Kate. But when you begin to wander over your ‘Carte du pays tendre,’ pray don’t expect me to keep you company, for I have never explored it. I will acknowledge, at the same time, that Charles is handsome—nay, the handsomest man of my acquaintance.” “Ah, you will!” said Catharine, with a bright smile. “Then I forgive you, but I predict that the day will come, when you will be punished for despising this ‘Carte du pays tendre,’ for mark me, Ada! yours is the very nature for _une grande passion_, and when you love—angels and ministers of grace defend me!—it will be Ætna poured into Vesuvius.” Ada laughed heartily, and a very sweet laugh was hers—low and musical, as the chime of fairy bells.