In a short time, all the ladies had provided themselves with partners. At first, from the singularity of their mutual situation, both beaux and belles felt themselves under considerable embarrassment, but gradually this awkwardness wore away, and an example being set by the master spirits of the assembly, there was much pleasantry on either side; all being determined to humour the jest, and sustain it throughout with as good a grace as possible. When the cotillions were forming for the second set, nearly a dozen young ladies found themselves simultaneously approaching Gordon Fitzsimmons, each with the design of engaging him as a partner. And this _empressement_ was not surprising, as he was decidedly the handsomest and most elegant man in the room. "Well, ladies," said Fitzsimmons, as they almost surrounded him, "you must decide among yourselves which of you is to take me out. All I can do is to stand still and be passive. But I positively interdict any quarrelling about me." "We have heard," said Miss Atherley, "of men dying of love, dying of grief, and dying from fear of death. We are now trying if it is not possible to make them die of vanity." "True," replied Fitzsimmons, "we may say with Harry the Fifth at Agincourt--'He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,'"--"'Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named,'"--added Miss Atherley, finishing the quotation. Fitzsimmons did not reply; for his attention was at that moment engaged by seeing Miss Manderville leading out Apesley Sappington, and apparently much diverted with his absurdities. "Ladies," said Miss Atherley, looking round to her companions, "let us try a fair chance of Mr. Fitzsimmons--suppose we draw lots for him." "Do--by all means," exclaimed Fitzsimmons. "Set me up at a raffle." "No," replied Miss Atherley, "we cannot conveniently raffle for you, as we have no dice at hand. Another way will do as well." She then plucked from her bouquet some green rose-leaves, and half concealing them between her fingers, she offered the stems to each of her companions in turn, saying--"Whoever draws the largest rose-leaf may claim the honour of Mr. Fitzsimmons's hand for the next set." The lots were drawn, and the largest rose-leaf remained with Miss Atherley (who was a young lady of much beauty and vivacity), and whom her friends laughingly accused of foul play in contriving to hold it back, in which opinion Fitzsimmons assured them that he perfectly coincided. But Miss Atherley, however, led him triumphantly to the cotillion which, fortunately for his partner, did not happen to be the one in which Lucinda Mandeville was engaged.