"I do detest upper seats at feasts," said she; "it exposes you to observation, while in our pleasant obscurity we can enjoy a little friendly chat. I never could understand why so many ladies quarrel so much about taking precedence of each other." "It is only ambition in a small way," said I. "Very small, indeed," she continued, laughing. "But tell me, why you were not at Mrs. Wilton's large party last night?" "Simply, because I was not invited." "The Monctons were there, father and son. But, perhaps you mix very little in the gaieties of the town." "Since Theophilus returned, I have been very little from home; and have become a mere cipher with my old friends. A few weeks ago, these Wilton's courted my acquaintance, and the young men vied with each other, in paying me attention. To-night, we met as perfect strangers. To me, the change is unaccountable. I am, however, a perfect novice in the ways of the world. Such examples of selfish meanness often repeated will render me a misanthrope." "You must not condemn all, because you have experienced the unmerited neglect of a few," said Catherine. "Selfish, interested people are found in every community. It is a maxim with me, never to judge the mass by individuals. Many of the persons we meet with in the world do not live entirely for it, and are incapable of the conduct you deplore. I have met with warm hearts and kind friends amid the gay scenes you condemn--young people, who like myself, are compelled by circumstances to mingle in society, while their thoughts and affections are far away." "You have never experienced the frowns of the world," said I; "I can scarcely allow you to be a competent judge." "I am prepared to meet them," she replied, quickly--then stopped--and sighed deeply. I looked up inquiringly. The expression of her fine face was changed from a cheerful to a pensive cast. It was not actual sorrow which threw a shade over her clear brow, but she looked as if she had encountered some unexpected misfortune, and was prepared to meet it with resignation. She passed her small white hand slowly across her forehead, and I thought I saw tears trembling in her eyes. My interest was deeply excited, and I loved her better for having suffered. I redoubled my attentions, and before the company rose from table, I fancied that she no longer regarded me with indifference. From this happy dream, I too soon awoke to an agonizing consciousness of my own insignificance. A Counsellor Sabine, who had been conversing with my uncle during the greater part of the evening, beckoned me over to a distant part of the room, and I reluctantly obeyed the summons. He wanted me to settle a dispute between him and Mr. Moncton, relative to some papers, which he said had been entrusted to my care. My place by Catherine Lee's side was instantly filled by Theophilus.