“After searching every place I could think of, Anne found your bracelet in your dressing-table, amongst a heap of odd things, which you left behind you to be thrown away: I have sent it to you by a young gentleman, who came to Bath (unluckily) the very day you left me--Mr. Clarence Hervey--an acquaintance, and great admirer of my Lady Delacour. He is really an uncommonly pleasant young man, is highly connected, and has a fine independent fortune. Besides, he is a man of wit and gallantry, quite a connoisseur in female grace and beauty--just the man to bring a new face into fashion: so, my dear Belinda, I make it a point--look well when he is introduced to you, and remember, what I have so often told you, that nobody _can_ look well without taking some pains to please. “I see--or at least when I went out more than my health will at present permit--I used to see multitudes of silly girls, seemingly all cut out upon the same pattern, who frequented public places day after day, and year after year, without any idea farther than that of diverting themselves, or of obtaining transient admiration. How I have pitied and despised the giddy creatures, whilst I have observed them playing off their unmeaning airs, vying with one another in the most _obvious_, and consequently the most ridiculous manner, so as to expose themselves before the very men they would attract: chattering, tittering, and flirting; full of the present moment, never reflecting upon the future; quite satisfied if they got a partner at a ball, without ever thinking of a partner for life! I have often asked myself, what is to become of such girls when they grow old or ugly, or when the public eye grows tired of them? If they have large fortunes, it is all very well; they can afford to divert themselves for a season or two, without doubt; they are sure to be sought after and followed, not by mere danglers, but by men of suitable views and pretensions: but nothing to my mind can be more miserable than the situation of a poor girl, who, after spending not only the interest, but the solid capital of her small fortune in dress, and frivolous extravagance, fails in her matrimonial expectations (as many do merely from not beginning to speculate in time). She finds herself at five or six-and-thirty a burden to her friends, destitute of the means of rendering herself independent (for the girls I speak of never think of _learning_ to play cards), _de trop_ in society, yet obliged to hang upon all her acquaintance, who wish her in heaven, because she is unqualified to make the _expected_ return for civilities, having no home, I mean no establishment, no house, &c. fit for the reception of company of a certain rank.--My dearest Belinda, may this never be your case!--You have every possible advantage, my love: no pains have been spared in your education, and (which is the essential point) I have taken care that this should be known--so that you have _the name_ of being perfectly accomplished.