“Lady F—— is the star of the night, as every one is observing,” said an old friend of the earl’s, who was absorbed in watching the dancers, among whom was Letitia. “The brightest star, we all agree, and shining as if in her native sphere.” “This is her native sphere,” replied the earl. “She is in her own sphere wherever there is grace, wherever there is enjoyment.” “True: so young, so simple as she appears! She seems perfectly unspoiled.” “Perfectly. She has gone through too much to be easily spoiled. Change,—anything more than modification—is impossible in her case, do with her what you will. You are an old friend, and I have no objection to let you see that I am proud of Letitia.” “I am truly glad.... I felt uncertain.... I did not know....” “Nor I till to-night,” said the earl, smiling. “But I find I have no more wish than right to question my son’s choice.” “But you must expect the world to criticise it.” “Certainly. If my son acts so as to imply contempt of conventional marriages, there will be contempt cast on his marriage of love. If both parties carry off their contempt inoffensively, both are welcome to their opinions.” “Well! there are many here whose parents have had occasion to use your philosophy, or some other to answer the same purpose.” “Lady F—— is the star of the night,” observed lady Frances’s partner, gazing at Letitia through his glass. “Peerless indeed!” Lady Frances made no answer, which emboldened the gentleman to proceed. “The star of the night, as she has often been called, and never more justly. Never, in the proudest moment of her glory, was she more lovely.” Still lady Frances was silent. “Perhaps your ladyship feels this to be the night of her glory; and, indeed, it is a triumph to have risen, through her own radiance, into a higher sphere.” “I question whether she feels it so,” replied lady Frances. “Letitia is very proud, and her pride takes rather an odd turn. She would tell you that she considers it a condescension to come among us, who are only born to our station.” “Surprising! And what inspired her condescension?” “O, love, of course; pure love. Nothing else could have prevailed with her to submit to marriage. You should hear her talk of the condition of wives,—how she pitied all till she became one herself. You cannot conceive what poor slaves she thinks them.” “And what says lord F——?” “He is fired by her eloquence. You have no idea how eloquent she is. She pours it out as if....” “It was in her heart, as well as by heart. How will she keep it up, now she has no practice?” “They will have private theatricals down at Weston, I have no doubt.”