'And you are so incredibly careless as to all prudential considerations as to prefer your immediate personal fancies to the future welfare of your whole life. I can say no more. If you will think well of my proposition, I will do all I can to assist you. I have no doubt you would make a good husband to Miss Golightly, and that she would be very happy with you. If you think otherwise there is an end of it; but pray do not talk so much about your honesty--your tailor would arrest you to-morrow if he heard you.' 'There are two kinds of honesty, I take it,' said Charley, speaking with suppressed anger and sorrow visible in his face, 'that which the world sees and that which it does not see. For myself, I have nothing to say in my own defence. I have made my bed badly, and must lie on it as it is. I certainly will not mend it by marrying a girl that I can never love. And as for you, Alaric, all who know you and love you watch your career with the greatest hope. We know your ambition, and all look to see you rise in the world. But in rising, as you will do, you should remember this--that nothing that is wrong can become right because other people do it.' 'Well, Charley,' said the other, 'thank you for the lecture. I did not certainly expect it from you; but it is not on that account the less welcome. And now, suppose we go upstairs and dress for Mrs. Val;' and so they went upstairs. Katie's heart beat high as she got out of the carriage--Mrs. Val's private carriage had been kept on for the occasion--and saw before and above her on the stairs a crowd of muslin crushing its way on towards the room prepared for dancing. Katie had never been to a ball before. We hope that the word ball may not bring down on us the adverse criticism of the _Morning Post_. It was probably not a ball in the strictly fashionable sense of the word, but it was so to Katie to all intents and purposes. Her dancing had hitherto been done either at children's parties, or as a sort of supplemental amusement to the evening tea-gatherings at Hampton or Hampton Court. She had never yet seen the muse worshipped with the premeditated ceremony of banished carpets, chalked floors, and hired musicians. Her heart consequently beat high as she made her way upstairs, linked arm-in-arm with Ugolina Neverbend. 'Shall you dance much?' said Ugolina. 'Oh, I hope so,' said Katie. 'I shall not. It is an amusement of which I am peculiarly fond, and for which my active habits suit me.' This was probably said with some allusion to her sister, who was apt to be short of breath. 'But in the dances of the present day conversation is impossible, and I look upon any pursuit as barbaric which stops the "feast of reason and the flow of soul."'