“O wad some power the giftie gie us, To see oursel’s as ithers see us.” “Nonsense! I know I am not a coquette, Charlotte,” retorted Lucia. “Gay and thoughtless I may have been; but I have never, nor would I ever, trifle with the affections of one whom I thought any other feeling but his own vanity had brought to my feet. But come, Madam Mentor, I will make a truce with you. I must first vanquish this redoubtable Gadsby, in honorable warfare, and with his own weapons, and then, I promise you, no duenna of old Spain ever wore a more vinegar aspect than shall Lucia Laurence, spinster.” “But, Lucia—” “No—no—no! stop! I know what you are going to say,” interrupted the gay girl, playfully placing her little hand over the mouth of her friend. “Positively I must have my way this time. And now for the business of the toilet. Let me see—blue and pearls; no, white—white, like a bride, Charlotte!” CHAPTER III. A brilliant company swept through the elegant apartments of Mrs. De Rivers. It was the opening soirée of the season, and here had gathered, in the regal train of Fashion and Display, the wealth, wit, beauty, and grace, of Penn’s fair city. Music’s enchanting strains breathed delight, fair forms moved in the graceful dance, and through the thronged assembly gay groups were gathered, “Where the swift thought, Winging its way with laughter, lingered not, But flew from brain to brain.” “Who is that queenly young lady, dressed with such elegant simplicity, talking with Miss De Rivers?” inquired Frank Gadsby of a friend at his elbow. “Where? ah, I see. Why, is it possible you do not know Miss Laurence? She is the greatest coquette in Philadelphia. Beware—no one escapes who comes under the influence of her bewitching eyes.” “A fair challenge—I will dare the danger. Will you introduce me?” was the reply. “With pleasure—but remember my warning,” answered his friend. “Miss Laurence is full of wit, and will cut up your fairest speeches to serve her ridicule; she is proud, and leads her many captives after her with the air of a Juno; she is sensible, and will carry out an argument with the skill of a subtle lawyer. She is handsome—” “That is easily seen,” interrupted Gadsby. “Pray spare me further detail, and give me an opportunity, if you please, to judge of the rest for myself.” At the same moment when these remarks were passing between the gentlemen, Lucia said to Miss De Rivers: “Pray tell me, Fanny, who is that stylish gent lounging so carelessly near the door?” “Tall—talking with young Bright, do you mean?” “The same.” “Ah, beware!” was the answer; “that same gentleman wears a perjured heart. He is no other than that gay deceiver—” “Who—Mr. Gadsby!” interrupted Lucia. “Yes, Frank Gadsby, whose vows of love are as indiscriminate as his smiles.” “I have heard of him, Fanny. Well, he is certainly very handsome,” said Lucia.