She turned her head, and beheld a large middle-aged woman, with red hair, and a very plain face, extravagantly dressed, and leaning on the arm of a very young man, apparently under twenty. She was in a lace dress of great value, with a gold cord and tassels round her waist, and her arms loaded with bracelets, while the front of her dress was decorated with beetles, locusts, scorpions, and other reptiles in jewellery, after a fashion that was then making a great noise in Paris. The young man held a gold pomander-box and a flaçon, with the lady's bouquet and handkerchief: an elderly man stood a little behind with an Indian shawl over his arm. "They are foreigners," said Mr. Collins, directing his glass towards Harriet and the Conde. "Is he not handsome?" asked the lady. "I think the girl the best looking," returned the young man. "No--do you? Fan me, Collins, there's a good soul." Mr. Collins unfurled her fan, fringed with swansdown, and proceeded to fan the "large lady." "Is there any one here one knows?" said the lady, turning her head a little towards the elderly man. "No, my dear, I think not," he replied. "Ah, dear Paris!" said the lady, with a powerful sigh. "Ah!" returned Mr. Collins. "Could not we sit down somewhere?" asked the lady. Way was made for her through the circle, and she sank on a bench. Mr. Collins stood fanning her. "Do go and look for some ice, Collins, I am perishing with heat," said the lady. "I'll try," replied the obedient Mr. Collins. "That's a pretty modest girl--there--with the blush roses," said the lady, addressing her husband. "Yes, my love," returned the good gentleman. "What time did you order the carriage?" "At two, dearest." "What ice is this, Collins? Pine? Oh! it's pretty good; as well as one can expect in this remote corner of the earth. There, I feel better now." Mr. Collins obsequiously held her ice-plate. "Will you dance to-night?" he asked, leaning over her. "Why--I think I will take a few turns when the waltzing begins," she replied. The Mazourka finished, Margaret went to claim her bouquet of Mr. Gage; but to her dismay, she found him leaning against the pillar in profound thought, and the floor quite strewn with the delicate leaves of her blush roses. He started on seeing her; seemed rather confused, a most unusual thing for him, and began to attempt some apology for his depredations. He could only hope that Miss Capel would not again leave him to the mercy of his own reflections, now that she saw how badly he employed his leisure. He scarcely knew how to palliate his offence, for he was aware of the importance of a lady's bouquet. Margaret, smiling archly, received the remains of her bouquet with a very good grace, and said that she suspected Mr. Gage had a better right to dispose of the flowers than she had. He replied by a gracious bow and smile, and begged her with much humility to allow him to conduct her to the refreshment room.