"The game seems hardly worth the candle," remarks Sir James, gazing after Titania's very insipid looking cavalier. "My dear, it is worth ten thousand candles," returns his wife. "That is young Woodleigh, and you know he came in for all that money on his uncle's death. In such a cause you would not have her countenance fatigue?" "Here comes her contrast," remarks Sir James, as a slight, dark woman, very pretty, with just a _soupcon_ of coloring on her pale cheeks, and enough shading round her lids to make her dark eyes darker, skates by. "I have been watching her," says Harriet. "She is Mrs. Elton, whose husband died last year--much to her satisfaction, as people say. See, Phyllis, how she is surrounded by admirers: every tenth minute she accepts a new aspirant to her hand, as far as rinking goes. Ah, my dear! see what it is to be a bewitching widow--far better than being a lovely girl. And James positively refuses to give me a chance of trying whether I would be a success if so circumstanced." Sir James smiles comfortably, and so do I, while watching the gay widow as she beams, and droops, and languishes, according to the mood of each companion--amusing all in turn, and knowing herself as universally adored by the opposite sex as she is detested by her own. "I had great difficulty in getting your skates. I wonder if these are small enough?" whispers Sir Mark in my ear; and, turning, I behold him fully equipped for the fray, followed by a subdued little boy, who carries under his arm the articles in question. They proved to be the right size, and soon I find myself standing on four wheels (that apparently go every way in the most impartial manner), grasping frantically my Mentor's arm. "Oh, what is the matter with my heels? They won't stay still!" I cry, desperately, as my body betrays an inclination to lay itself flat upon the ground. "They can't be right, I am sure. Are all the skates like these?" "Yes. Try to walk a little, and you will find it easier. It is wonderful how soon one gets used to the sensation." I summon all my pluck, and get round the place three times without stopping or falling, thanks to Sir Mark's strong arm. As I reach my starting-point once more, I pause and sink into a vacant chair. "I will rest a little," I breathe hastily. "I am dreadfully tired and frightened. I had no idea it would prove so difficult. Go away, Sir Mark, and take a turn by yourself; and perhaps later on, if you come back for me, I will try again. Oh, I wonder how on earth it is all these people manage to keep upright?" "Don't lose heart," says Sir Mark, smiling. "Once on a time they all felt just as you do now. Indeed, I think you a very promising beginner."