“We have only been in this city for one week,” she replied in an acquiescent way which convinced him that she had not changed the parental name by means of wedlock--a discovery that infused a secret glow of pleasure into his very soul, though at the same instant his heart smote him as if he were already playing a treacherous part in respect to Lady Frances Ellingham. “No,” continued Perdita, “we have not long resided in London. Urgent affairs have compelled my mother to visit the capital; and as our stay is likely to be of considerable duration, we are about to take a house. For my part, I am not sorry that we are thus to settle in London: for, in spite of its oppressive atmosphere, its smoke, and its noise, it has many attractions.” “You have already seen enough, then, to induce you to prefer London to the country, Miss Fitzhardinge?” said Charles, now admiring the fine aquiline profile of which he was suffered to obtain a perfect view, as Perdita half averted her looks on purpose, though quite in a natural manner. “I have seen enough to render me an enthusiastic admirer of your great city,” she replied, now turning her full countenance upon him, and smiling so as to display her brilliant teeth: “but I am anxious to behold more, and my wish cannot very readily be gratified. For, save our attorney, we have no acquaintances--no friends in London: we are perfect strangers here--and we cannot very well ask our solicitor to escort us to the theatre and to those places of amusement which ladies would hardly choose to visit unless accompanied and protected by a gentleman.” “Is it possible that _you_, Miss Fitzhardinge, should have to experience the want of such a _chaperon_?” demanded Charles Hatfield, again hurried by his enthusiasm into language too little reserved and distant for a perfect stranger to address to a young lady:--at least, so he thought and feared immediately after he had made the observation. “It is very possible,” replied Perdita, in a mild and almost plaintive tone. “In the country we had numerous friends; but here----” And the artful creature, stopping short, stooped down to pick up her handkerchief as if to apply it to her eyes:--at the same instant Charles, obeying the impulse of polite attention, bent down also to save the lady the trouble and perform the little act of courtesy, when their hair--their very cheeks came in contact,--accidentally as the confused and bewildered Charles imagined, but intentionally on the part of the wanton and astute Perdita.