"The fact is," said Ponsonby, in his sweet voice, the beauteous tones of which nobody ever did or will dispute, "the fact is, I really am proud of it; for I have not worn shoes before for these last three months; but," added he, "do you know what I am most proud of in the world, and which, poor as I am, upon my honour, I would not exchange, at this moment, for a hundred thousand pounds?" "No!----" "I will tell you,--my place in your heart and your arms this evening." He put his arms round my waist, and my lips were nearly touching his. Ponsonby's cheek was now tinged with the glowing blush of passion; yet he turned from my kiss like a spoiled child. "No!" said Ponsonby, shaking his head, "I have a thousand things to tell you." "I cannot listen to one of them," said I, faintly, and our lips met in one long, long delicious kiss! so sweet, so ardent! that it seemed to draw the life's warm current from my youthful heart to reanimate his with all its wildest passion. And then!--yes, and then, as Sterne, says,--and then we parted. The next day, at past three o'clock, Fanny found me in bed. "How abominably idle!" said Fanny. I answered that I was not well. "You do not look very bad," Fanny replied; "on the contrary, I have not seen you look so well, nor your eyes so bright, for some time." "Well," said I, "if you really think me out of danger, I will get up." "Come!" answered Fanny, "shall I ring for your maid? I want you to take me to Julia's." While I was dressing, Fanny informed me that she had given up her own house to go and live with Julia. "I rather prefer living alone," she continued, "but Julia is so very dull, and my paying half her rent will also be of service to her." "And some of your beaux may perhaps be brought to flirt with her, poor thing!" added I, "for really their neglect is very hard upon her." Much more beauty, it should seem, is required to please without virtue than with it, since, it is said, that Julia at her mamma's made conquests every where and every hour. Even the Regent himself once said he would travel a hundred miles to have the pleasure of seeing her dance. Her dancing, we both agreed, was perfection: speaking of what was most truly graceful, effeminate and ladylike. "Brummell has been with her, making strong love lately," said Fanny. "Oh, the shocking deceiver! Tell Julia not to believe one word he says." I inquired how Amy and Sydenham went on. "Pretty well," answered Fanny. "Sydenham is not only a very good-natured, but a remarkably clever, and well-bred man. Amy tries his patience too, a little, with his passion for books; she is always taking them out of his hand, and making him look at her attitudes before the glass, or her attempts at the shawl-dance." "What does Sydenham do for the Marquis of Wellesley?" I asked.