“A sweet pretty creature, really!” whispered Lady Angelica, to her admirer in waiting, Sir James Harcourt. “Ye--ye--yes; but nothing _marquante_,” replied Sir James. Mr. Barclay’s eye followed, and fixed upon Caroline, with a degree of interest. The room was so large, and they were at such a distance from Caroline, who was now occupied in listening to her friends, that Lady Angelica could continue her observations without fear of being overheard. “There is something so interesting in that air of simplicity!” pursued her ladyship, addressing herself to Mr. Barclay. “Don’t you think there is a wonderful charm in simplicity? ‘Tis a pity it can’t last: it is like those delicate colours which always catch the eye the moment they are seen, by which I’ve been taken in a hundred times, and have now forsworn for ever--treacherous colours that fade, and fly even while you look at them.” “That is a pity,” said Mr. Barclay, withdrawing his eyes from Caroline. “A thousand pities,” said Lady Angelica. “Perhaps, in the country, this delicate charm might possibly, and with infinite care and caution, last a few years, but in town it would not last a season.” “True--too true,” said Mr. Barclay. “For which reason,” pursued Lady Angelica, “give me something a little more durable, something that can stand what it must meet with in the world: fashion, for instance, though not half so charming till we are used to it; or knowledge, though often dearly bought; or genius, though doubly taxed with censure; or wit, though so hard to be had genuine--any thing is better than a faded charm, a has-been-pretty simplicity.” “When it comes to _that_, it is lamentable, indeed,” said Mr. Barclay. He seemed to wish to say something more in favour of simplicity, but to be overpowered by wit. Sir James shrugged his shoulders, and protested that simplicity had something too _fade_ in it, to suit his taste. All this time, where was Colonel Hungerford? He had been expected to arrive this day; but a letter came to tell his mother, that he was detained by indispensable military business, and that, he feared, he could not for some weeks have the pleasure of being at home. Every one looked and felt disappointed. “So,” thought Rosamond, “we shall be gone before he comes, and he will not see Caroline!” “So!” said Lady Angelica, to herself, “he will not see me.” Rosamond was somewhat comforted for her disappointment, by observing that Caroline was not quite lost upon Mr. Barclay, pre-occupied though he was with his brilliant mistress. She thought he seemed to notice the marked difference there was in their manner of passing the day.