17.--Having no mother who values herself on her youth, is presented by an aunt--first terrified, then charmed. Comes out--Almack's--Opera--begins to flirt--selects the most agreeable but most objectionable man in the room as the object of her affections--he, eminently pleasant, but dreadfully poor--talks of love in a cottage, and a casement window all over woodbine. 18.--Discards the sighing swain, and fancies herself desperately devoted to a Lancer, who has amused himself by praising her perfections. Delights in _fêtes_ and _déjeuners_--dances herself into half a consumption. Becomes an intimate friend of Henry's sister. 19.--Votes Henry stupid--too fond of himself to care for her--talks a little louder than the year before--takes care to show that she understands the best-concealed _bon-mots_ of the French plays--shows off her bright eyes, and becomes the centre of four satellites who flicker round her. 20.--Begins to wonder why none of the sighers propose--gets a little peevish--becomes a politician--rallies the Whigs--avows Toryism--all women are Tories, except two or three who may be anything--gets praised beyond measure by her party--discards Italian music, and sings party songs--called charming, delightful, and "so natural." 21.--Enraptured with her new system--pursues it with redoubled ardour--takes to riding constantly on horseback--canters every day half-way to the House of Lords with the dear Earl, through St. James's Park, by the side of her uncle--makes up parties and excursions--becomes a comet instead of a star, and changes her satellites for a Tail, by which she is followed as regularly as the great Agitator is. Sees her name in the papers as the proposer of pic-nics, and the patroness of fancy fairs. 22.--Pursues the same course--autumn comes--country-house--large party of shooting men--juxtaposition--constant association--sociability in the evening--sportive gambols--snug suppers--an offer--which, being made by the only dandy she did not care about in the _mêlée_, she refuses. 23.--Regrets it--tries to get him back--he won't come, but marries a rich grocer's widow for her money. Takes to flirting desperately--dresses fantastically--tries a new style of singing--affects a taste--lives with the Italians, calls them divine and charming--gets her uncle to give suppers. 24.--Thinks she has been too forward--retires, and becomes melancholy--affects sentiment, and writes verses in an Annual--makes acquaintances with the _savans_, and the authors and authoresses--wonders she is not married. 25.--Goes abroad with her uncle and a delightful family--so kind and so charming--stays the year there. 26.--Comes home full of new airs and graces--more surprised than ever that she is still single, and begins to fancy she could live very comfortably, if not in a cottage, at least upon a very moderate scale. 27.--Thinks the conversation of rational men infinitely preferable to flirting.