"Good heavens! what shall we do?" said I, while the tears of anger trembled in my eyes as I threw a hasty glance round the room to look for protection--and saw Leicester Stanhope, for it was really him, following us at some little distance, and shrinking back that I might not observe him, evidently half ashamed of the admiration he had evinced towards a woman who walked the lobby! For it was indeed that most respectable saloon, in which Prude and I were making an exhibition of our pretty persons, owing to the merest ignorance. All the world seemed to be in this room, which was something like the round-room at the Opera. How could we help fancying it was the right way out? In short, we had tried and could find no other. It was immensely crowded, and, as we moved on slowly, every step we took exposed us to fresh insult, of the grossest and most disgusting nature, Stanhope seemed determined to see the end of it all, _à la distance_. "How can that young man stand by and see two women so shockingly insulted, and not come forward to offer his protection?" said Mrs. Prude, observing Stanhope. At this moment we came in close contact with some females whose language made our blood run cold. I hesitated, while I was almost tempted to interest Mr. Stanhope to protect us to a carriage: a horrible-looking, fat, bloated man, in a state of brutal intoxication, being actually about to thrust his hand into my bosom, Stanhope took a hasty glance at my countenance, and, observing it crimson up to my very eyes, he did, as by some ungovernable impulse, _qu'était plus fort que lui_, hastily place his person before me, as a protection, nay, almost in defiance of the fat man. "I believe I am addressing a Mr. Stanhope?" said I to him, in much agitation. Leicester bowed with an appearance of great reserve. "Being acquainted with several of your brothers," I continued, "I must take the liberty to entreat you will either protect us to a hackney-coach, or employ some honest man to do us a kindness you see we stand so deplorably in need of." "Is it possible that you seriously wish to avoid all this impertinence?" asked Leicester, in evident but gratified surprise. Both Mrs. Prude and myself actually fell back a pace or two, as we fixed our eyes on him in speechless astonishment at his manner of asking this question. "Do not you really know what place this is? Do not you know that you are in the lobby?" asked Stanhope, whispering in my ear. "Oh, dear me! good gracious, Mrs. Prude, we are in the lobby, with all the very worst women!" said I, and I thought Prude would have fallen back in a fainting fit. Leicester Stanhope politely offered me his arm, and hastened to convey us out of the house. He afterwards set us down in safety at my own door, requesting permission to inquire after my health the next morning.