Richard Avenel was not quite at his ease at first in receiving his guests, especially those whom he did not know by sight. But when the dancing began, and he had secured the fair hand of Mrs. M'Catchley for the initiatory quadrille, his courage and presence of mind returned to him; and, seeing that many people whom he had not received at all seemed to enjoy themselves very much, he gave up the attempt to receive those who came after,--and that was a great relief to all parties. Meanwhile Leonard looked on the animated scene with a silent melancholy, which he in vain endeavored to shake off--a melancholy more common amongst very young men in such scenes than we are apt to suppose. Somehow or other the pleasure was not congenial to him; he had no Mrs. M'Catchley to endear it--he knew very few people--he was shy--he felt his position with his uncle was equivocal--he had not the habit of society--he heard incidentally many an ill-natured remark upon his uncle and the entertainment--he felt indignant and mortified. He had been a great deal happier eating his radishes, and reading his book, by the little fountain in Riccabocca's garden. He retired to a quiet part of the grounds, seated himself under a tree, leant his cheek on his hand, and mused. He was soon far away;--happy age, when, whatever the present, the future seems so fair and so infinite! But now the _dejeune_ had succeeded the earlier dances; and, as champagne flowed royally, it is astonishing how the entertainment brightened. The sun was beginning to slope towards the west, when, during a temporary cessation of the dance, all the guests had assembled in such space as the tent left on the lawn, or thickly filled the walks immediately adjoining it. The gay dresses of the ladies, the joyous laughter heard every where, and the brilliant sun light over all, conveyed even to Leonard the notion, not of mere hypocritical pleasure, but actual healthful happiness. He was attracted from his reverie, and timidly mingled with the groups. But Richard Avenel, with the fair Mrs. M'Catchley--her complexion more vivid, and her eyes more dazzling, and her step more elastic than usual, had turned from the gayety just as Leonard had turned towards it, and was now on the very spot (remote, obscure, shaded by the few trees above five years old Mr. Avenel's property boasted) which the dreamer had deserted. And then! Ah! then! moment so meet for the sweet question of questions, place so appropriate for the delicate, bashful, murmured popping thereof!--suddenly from the sward before, from the groups beyond, there floated to the ears of Richard Avenel an indescribable mingled ominous sound--a sound as of a general titter--a horrid, malignant, but low cachination. And Mrs. M'Catchley, stretching forth her parasol, exclaimed, "Dear me, Mr. Avenel, what can they be all crowding there for?"