She kept her promise; and for a month at least, Ada was suffered to like or dislike Mr. Stanley in peace. During this time, many parties were given to the popular bride; and though Ada was not fond of balls, still, as bridemaid, she was forced not only to attend them, but to accept as much attention as the enemy chose to offer. He was careful that this attention should be no more than etiquette required of him; and it was so unobtrusive, that at length Ada felt less and less embarrassed in his presence, and ceased to think of his acquaintance as the greatest misfortune of her life. CHAPTER IV. “Noch seh’ ich sie Die herrlichste von allen, stand sie da.” At length, to Ada’s infinite relief, came the last of Catharine’s bridal parties. This was one of the largest and gayest of the season; and the throng was so great that the two friends were separated soon after entering the room, and saw nothing of each other till the evening was more than half over. The music had been so inviting that Catharine danced on until, thoroughly exhausted, she made her way to another room, and sunk into the depths of a Louis Quatorze, which, despised by the dancers, had been tending its cushioned-arms for hours in vain. When she was sufficiently rested, she began to look around her, and perceived that at last accident had brought her so near to Ada, that the light folds of her crape dress almost touched Catharine as the air from the open windows swayed it to and fro. Ada was talking with Mr. Stanley, and listening to his animated and brilliant conversation with an interest which spoke in her smiling lips and sparkling eyes. As for the gentleman, he was perfectly happy; he would have asked nothing better than to look into those eyes for ever; and, elated with the conviction that he had conquered her growing aversion for him, he was now cherishing the hope that time might win for him her regard. He already judged too correctly of her character, to fancy it subject to sudden changes or hasty attachments; but he thought it something to have brought her to a state of amiable indifference—to have “smoothed the raven down of darkness till it smiled.” “If you like the sentiment, Miss Somers,” were the first words Catharine overheard, “I am sure you will be pleased with the whole book. The author of Lacon, though he has borrowed largely from La Rochefoucauld and La Bruyère, has some claims to originality. His style, moreover, is epigrammatic, and his subjects will interest one like you, whose cast of mind is metaphysical.” “Humph!” said Catharine to herself, “you have been studying its nature, _con amore_, I perceive;” while Mr. Stanley, unconscious of listeners, went on. “Will you allow me to bring it to you to-morrow, together with Picciola?” Ada gave a gracious assent, while Catharine pursued the current of her remarks.