Lady Glenmore heard this circumstance with a beating heart; and looking reproachfully at Mr. Leslie Winyard, she said, "You see you were mistaken; why did you deceive me?" He affected, for a moment, to be overcome with disappointment and chagrin, and then said in a low voice, "Oh, be not uneasy; there are so many things may have detained a man in his station. Why do you suffer yourself to be thus wretched? Would to Heaven he knew! If he did but know, surely, surely he would be here. But how people mistake their own happiness! Were I in his place--" "You would be where he is," said Lady Glenmore with composure. "Doubtless," rejoined Mr. Leslie Winyard with great presence of mind, "for we cannot change natures with any one; nor indeed do we ever wish it." And then he relapsed into silence. Although Lady Glenmore felt piqued and mortified at her husband's having broken his promise to her, she could not bear that any one else should cast the least blame upon him; and she dismissed her chagrin, and forced herself to talk gaily, as though her heart was light. Mr. Leslie Winyard, apparently yielding to an irresistible impulse of admiration, once, and once only, whispered to her, "Admirable creature! it is only I that see through this disguise, and honour you for the sacrifice you are making of your feelings, considering the motives by which you are actuated." She turned this speech off as a joke; but there was something in it which, though it pained, yet pleased her. How difficult it is for the purest natures not to lean to self-approbation when it comes in the soft breath of praise! Nevertheless, the minutes seemed hours to her till the curtain dropped, and she arose quickly to depart. "Where are you going, _ma chère dame_?" said Lady Tenderden. "Positively you must come with me. I have a _petit soupèr_ on purpose for you; and as Lord Glenmore knows of old that it is my custom to have this always after de play, having been prevented from joining us here, he will not fail to come to my house, and we shall find him waiting for us." "Do you really think so?" asked Lady Glenmore hesitatingly. "Yes, to be sure I do; at all events, you can but come and try; it will be always time enough to go home afterwards." These persuasions, adroitly pressed, won upon Lady Glenmore's easy credulity, and she suffered herself to be handed down stairs, and got into Lady Tenderden's carriage. "You look quite divinely to-night," said Lady Tenderden to her as they drove along--"positively _ravissante; vous ferez fureur, je l'avois toujours prédit_. Even when you had dat horrible English _modiste_ to dress you, you were always lovely; but now--now that you have de _vraie tournure_, and dat _le coupe de vos cheveux_, and de plait of your petticoat, is _d'après le dernier goût_, depend upon it, all de hearts will fly to you."