“I have; although many other names, whose fair owners you have trifled with, are in my mind,” said Walton. “You must excuse my frankness, Gadsby, when I tell you that your conduct is unworthy a man of honor or principle. There is not one of the ladies of whom we have spoken, but has had reason to think herself the object of your particular interest and pursuit; and if, as you flatter yourself, they have seemed partial to your attentions, that partiality has been awakened by those winning words and manners which none better than yourself know how to assume. Shame on the man, I say, who can thus insinuate himself into the affections of a young, unsuspecting girl, merely to flatter his own egregious vanity or his self-love! Coquetry, idle as it is, is more properly the province of woman. Nature has given them sprightliness, grace and beauty, which, in their hands, like the masterly fan in the days of the Spectator, they are expected to use as weapons against us; but for a man to assume the coquet, renders him contemptible. If there is any thing which can add to its meanness, it is boasting of his conquests—playing the braggart to his own vanity. Woman’s affections are too sacred to be thus trifled with, nor should her purity be insulted by the boasts of a—caricature, not a man! Burn all these idle toys, Gadsby—trophies of unworthy victories—turn to more noble pursuits, nor longer waste the talents which God has given you, nor the time which can never be regained.” “As fine a lecture as I ever listened to,” quoth Gadsby, feigning a laugh. “When do you take orders, most reverend Clarence? Why, you deserve to be elected moralist of the age—a reformer in the courts of Cupid. However, I will give you the credit of honesty, and more—for I confess you have given me some pretty sharp home-thrusts, which I will not pretend to parry; but you take things too seriously, upon my soul you do. One of these days you shall behold me a sober, married man, in a flannel night-cap; but until then, Walton, “_vive l’amour!_” CHAPTER II. “Blue or pink, Charlotte?” “O, the blue, by all means, Lucia.” “And pearls or rubies?” “Pearls.” “Blue and pearls! Why, I shall personate the very ideal of maiden simplicity. I might as well appear all in white!” “And it would be beautiful, Lucia,” answered her friend. “Think so? Well, I have a great mind to try it, for you must know it is my desire to look uncommonly well to-night,” said Lucia. “But why to-night do you so particularly wish to shine?” inquired Charlotte. “Why? Why, don’t you know we are to meet that renowned enslaver of hearts, that coquet, Frank Gadsby! Is not that enough to inspire my vanity?” replied the lively girl. “And you are resolved upon leading this renowned conqueror in your own chains, Lucia?” “He shall not escape them, Charlotte. I will bring him to my feet, and thus become the champion of my sex,” said Lucia.