“You must excuse me, madam,” he said; “I have not yet the free use of my arm, and could not acquit myself properly in a minuet.” “I hate minuets,” returned Lady Belle; “the very notion gives me the spleen.” “Ah, pretty heretic!” said my Lady, making a playful gesture with her fan at the peony-coloured cheek. “I meant this wounded knight to have converted you, but he must amuse you otherwise. What, my Lord I thought you knew I never meant to dance again. Cannot you open the dance without me? I, who have no spirits!” The rest was lost as she sailed away on the arm of a gentleman in a turquoise-coloured coat, and waistcoat embroidered with gillyflowers; leaving the Lady Arabella on the hands of her son, who, neither as host nor gentleman, could escape, until the young lady had found some other companion. He stiffly and wearily addressed to her the inquiry how she liked London. “I should like it monstrously if I were not moped up in school,” she answered. “So you have come back. How did you hurt your arm?” she said, in the most provincial of dialects. “In the fire, madam.” “What? In snatching your innamorata from the flames?” “Not precisely,” he said. “Come, now, tell me; did she set the room a-fire?” demanded the young lady. “Oh, you need not think to deceive me. My brother Mar’s coachman told my mamma’s woman all about it, and how she was locked up and ran away; but they have her fast enough now, after all her tricks!” “Who have? For pity’s sake tell me, Lady Belle!” Loving to tease, she exclaimed: “There, now, what a work to make about a white-faced little rustic!” “Your ladyship has not seen her.” “Have I not, though? I don’t admire your taste.” “Is she in Queen’s Square?” “Do not you wish me to tell you where you can find your old faded doll, with a waist just like a wasp, and an old blue sacque--not a bit of powder in her hair?” “Lady Belle, if you would have me for ever beholden to you---” “The cap fits,” she cried, clapping her hands. “Not a word to say for her! I would not have such a beau for the world.” “When I have found her it will be time to defend her beauty! If your ladyship would only tell me where she is, you know not what gratitude I should feel!” “I dare say, but that’s my secret. My mamma and yours would be ready to kill me with rage if they knew I had let out even so much.” “They would forgive you. Come, Lady Belle, think of her brave old father, and give some clue to finding her. Where is she?” “Ah! where you will never get at her!” “Is she at Queen’s Square?”