“If ladies do always change their minds, I am going to be the interesting exception which proves the rule,” was Alice’s reply. “How provokingly and unnaturally obstinate you are to-night, Mrs. Coverdale! You pretend to be fond of dancing, and yet, because I ask you, you resolve to sit still!” “I have already told you my reason,” rejoined Alice; “in Mr. Coverdale’s absence I do not choose to dance the whole evening with any one gentleman.” “What a pattern wife you are!” was the reply; “you give up your own amusement, and destroy all my pleasure, out of regard for the ghost of a scruple, which I dare say has never entered Mr. Coverdale’s brain; really, the patient Griselda was nothing compared to you.” Alice was annoyed by his pertinacity, and, considering this speech impertinent, was about to repeat her refusal in terms which would have enlightened his lordship very considerably on these points, when it flashed across her that he might have taken rather too much Champagne; and the idea having occurred to her, his flushed face and excited manner confirmed it. Having sufficient liking for him to wish to prevent him from making himself ridiculous, she good-naturedly resolved to engross his conversation herself, and, aware of what she conceived to be the true state of the case, not to take offence at anything he might say, intending to read him a lecture on the following day. In accordance with this resolution, she replied-- “I consider it a great compliment to be compared to the patient Grisel, more particularly as I was not of opinion that she and I had very many qualities in common. By the way,” she continued, seeking to change the subject, and taking the first idea that occurred to her, “what do you think of the lady whose chair you are occupying? I have never asked your opinion of Miss Arabella Crofton.” The question was a most unfortunate one. Alice’s continued refusal to dance with him had annoyed Lord Alfred, and wounded his vanity; the reason of her refusal was her absurd devotion (as he considered it) to her husband; and now she, as it were, held the cup of revenge to his lips by the question she had asked him. Up to this point his better nature had struggled with the temptation successfully, but now it had acquired an additional strength, and overcame him. “I wonder you should care to know _my_ ideas on the subject,” he said; and as he proceeded to work out Horace D’Almayne’s suggestions, his tone and manner unconsciously assumed a resemblance to that excellent young man’s sarcastic and suggestive delivery: “Miss Crofton is merely a recent and very slight acquaintance of mine; you should apply to Mr. Coverdale--_he_ could tell you many much more interesting particulars of her history than I am able to communicate, if he were willing to do so.”