“And as fascinating in his manners as he is handsome,” replied her friend. “Why, he makes every woman in love with him—myself excepted, Lucia; every fair lady elicits, in turn, the same homage, the same tender speeches, and, in turn, finds herself the dupe of his flattery and melting glances.” “Perfectly absurd!” exclaimed Lucia, with a toss of her head. “But see, Lucia, he has already marked you; look, he approaches, with Earnest Bright. Now prepare for the introduction, which he has, no doubt, solicited.” The presentation was gone through with in due form. Lucia assumed an air of the most perfect indifference, scarcely deigning to notice the elegant man of fashion, who, by his most courtly smiles and winning compliments, endeavored to attract her favorable attention. But both smiles and fine speeches were thrown away; and, not a little chagrined at his reception from the fair Lucia, Gadsby at length turned coldly away, and began chatting, in a gay tone, with Miss De Rivers, while, at the same moment, Miss Laurence, giving her hand to a young officer, joined the dancers. “Well, how do you like Miss Laurence, Frank?” said Earnest Bright, later in the evening, touching the shoulder of Gadsby, who stood listlessly regarding the gay scene. “She has fine eyes, although I have seen finer,” was the answer; “a good figure, but there are others as good; ’pon my soul, I see no particular fascination about her—I could pick out a dozen here more agreeable.” “Think so? Well, don’t be too secure, that’s all,” replied his friend. “Never fear. I have escaped heart-free too long to be caught at last by one like Miss Laurence. Less imperiousness, and more of woman’s gentleness, for me,” said Gadsby. “And yet, it were worth while to subdue this inflexible beauty, and entangle her in her own snares,” he mentally added. In the supper-room Charlotte Atwood found herself, for a moment, near her friend Lucia. “Well, you have met the foe; what think you now, Lucia?” she whispered. “Of Mr. Gadsby, I suppose you mean,” she replied. “I am sadly disappointed, to tell you the truth. I expected to find him too much a man of the world to betray his own vanity. Why, he is the most conceited fellow I ever met with.” “Do you wonder at it? Such a universal favorite as he is with the ladies, has reason to be conceited,” said Charlotte. “Perhaps so. It would be doing him a kindness, therefore, to take a little of this self-conceit out of him—don’t you think so?” Lucia laughingly replied. These two invincible coquettes are now entered for a trial of their skill, in fair and equal combat. “Let him laugh who wins,” but a crown to the victor, I say. A too minute detail of this well-contested game, might prove tedious; therefore, we will pass over three months of alternate frowns and smiles, and allow the reader to judge, by the following chapter, to whose side the victory most inclines. CHAPTER IV.