"No; it must be one of you or none at all. That little sylph of yours, Mrs. Hamilton, seems inclined to dance for you and herself too. What a pretty couple she and that handsome cousin of hers make! And there goes my little Lilla--I do hope I may have one really happy child. What, tired, Percy--compelled to give up--absolutely exhausted?" "Indeed I am," answered Percy, who had waltzed his partner very cleverly out of the line, and, after giving her a seat, threw himself on a large ottoman. "Mother, if you do not put a stop to Emmeline's proceedings, her strength will entirely fail, and down she and Edward will go, and the rest follow, just like a pack of cards. Do, pray, prevent such a catastrophe, for I assure you it is not in the least unlikely." The gravity with which he spoke caused a general laugh; but Mrs. Hamilton, feeling by the length of time the fatiguing dance had lasted, there was really some truth in his words, desired the musicians to stop; causing an exclamation of regret and disappointment from many youthful lips, and Emmeline and Edward ran up to her, to entreat that they might go on little longer. Mrs. Hamilton, however, refused; and Edward yielded directly, but Emmeline was so much excited, that obedience was most unusually difficult; and when her mother desired her to sit down quietly for ten minutes, and then come to the music-room, as Mrs. Allan most particularly wished to hear her play before she left, she answered, with more petulance than she was at all aware of-- "I am sure I can not play a note now--it will be no use trying." "Emmeline!" exclaimed her mother, adding, gravely, "I am afraid you have danced too much, instead of not enough." The tone, still more than the words, was enough; poor Emmeline was just in that mood when tears are quite as near as smiles; her own petulance seemed to reproach her too, and she suddenly burst into tears. Many exclamations of sympathy and condolence burst from her mother's friends:--"Poor child!" "She has over-tired herself!" "We cannot expect her to play now!"--but Mrs. Greville saying, with a smile, that her little friend's tears were always the very lightest April showers, successfully turned the attention of many from her; while Mrs. Hamilton taking her hand from her face, merely said, in a low voice-- "Do not make me more ashamed of you, Emmeline. What would papa think if he were to see you now?" Her little girl's only answer was to bury her face still more closely in her mother's dress, very much as if she would like to hide herself entirely; but on Mrs. Allan saying, very kindly-- "Do not distress yourself, my dear. I would not have asked to hear you play, if I had thought you would dislike it so much. I dare say you are very tired, and so think you will not succeed."