Yes! she was looking very lovely. Nevertheless, Mathilde, as well as myself, seemed destined to adorn the sofa as a "wall flower" all the evening, for set after set formed until every one was complete. The music struck up and the dancing commenced, and still no one came near us, nor did we even so much as see, within the range of our vision, one single person that we knew. Mathilde voted this "the very stupidest ball" she was ever at, and hoped her papa would never come to Saratoga again. I, for my part, fell into the study of faces, and through them into the study of character, and through that into dreaming. Presently a head--start not gentle reader, there was a living body attached to it--attracted my particular attention. It was not because it was above every other head present--though had not this been the case I should not at that distance have seen it--nor was it because it was a very handsome one--for there were others much handsomer; but it was a very remarkable, characteristic, individual sort of head--a monarchical head, with a forehead that in its commanding height and breadth seemed the natural throne of intellectual sovereignty, with a strongly and clearly-marked nose and mouth, with eyes full of calm power--that surveyed the multitude below with the quiet interest of a king inspecting his army on some festive parade day. "_Magnus Apollo!_" were the words that sprang alive to my lips as I laid my hand upon the soft, white arm of Mathilde and called her attention to this stranger. "Hush! he is looking this way," said my companion, blushing and casting down her eyes. I knew very well, if he was "looking this way," at whom he must be looking, and so, did not feel Mathilde's embarrassment in again raising my eyes to the "_Magnus Apollo_." When I did so I perceived that he was in conversation with another gentleman, whom I recognized as Mr. ----, the proprietor of the house. I saw Mr. ---- bow and precede the stranger, conducting him to the presence of Mr. Legare, to whom he immediately introduced him. I saw Mr. Legare and the stranger approaching our quarter of the room, and I thought I understood it all. I was not mistaken. Mr. Legare presented the stranger as "Mr. Howard, of Boston," first to me, whom he favored with a bow, but certainly not with a single glance, and next to Mathilde, whom he almost immediately petitioned to become his partner in the next quadrille. Miss Legare bowed a gracious acceptance to his suit. The presentation over, Mr. Legare went to rejoin his wife, who could not endure to be left alone. Mr. Howard remained standing before us, and soon, by the brilliancy, variety and interest of his conversation, attracted and engaged both his hearers. He was certainly a man of the most distinguished and commanding presence that I had ever seen, and one for whom every hour's acquaintance increased our esteem.