Leslie could not help laughing at his friend's remarks on the various beaux and belles who passed in review before them.
"Sir Maxwell was called out to speak to someone by his valet. He is brewing mischief, I'll take my oath. Let us go into the room next the lobby and find out."
"I decline to act spy. You may do so if you like," Leslie said.
And he turned away towards another part of the room, and began to talk for half an hour to a retiring gentle girl, who, when the "contre danse" was formed, had no partner. Leslie led her out to take a place in it, and found himself _vis-a-vis_ with Sir Maxwell Danby and one of the most conspicuously dressed ladies who frequented Lady Miller's reunions at Batheaston.
She was attired in a loose white gown, supposed to be after the Greek pattern, and her arms were bare, the loose sleeves caught up with a large brooch. She wore her hair in a plain band with a fillet, and cut low on the forehead. This lady had sat for her portrait to Gainsborough in her youth, now long past, and she had become very stout since those days, when many reigning belles repaired to Gainsborough's studio in Ainslie's Belvedere.
She talked in a loud voice, and Leslie's attention was soon diverted from his companion, as he caught a name dear to him.
"Miss Mainwaring is a beauty, no doubt of that," the lady said; "but a trifle stiff and heavy in manner. Why is she absent to-night? _You_ ought to know, Sir Maxwell."
"Perhaps she is better engaged, from all I know. Miss Mainwaring's behaviour is a little eccentric."
"Is there a romance connected with her? I do love a bit of pretty romance. You know the _on dit_ is that she is to be Lady Danby?"
"My dear lady," Sir Maxwell said, "it is not safe to trust to _on dits_. From what I have heard, Miss Mainwaring's tastes lie in a somewhat lower level of society than that in which you, for instance, live and move. There are, it seems, attractions for Miss Mainwaring in a quarter of the town where we look for actors and actresses, and such-like cattle--that is, supposing that we desire their acquaintance off the stage--which I, for one, do not!"
"I really hardly credit what you say; I vow I can't believe it. There's some mistake, Sir Maxwell."