‘I am sorry that you should not be enjoying yourself,’ said Mr Boncassen, coming to his wife’s rescue.

’Nothing could have been nicer.  To tell the truth, I am standing idle by way of showing my anger against your daughter, who would not dance with me.’

‘I am sure she would have felt herself honoured,’ said Mr Boncassen.

‘Who is the gentleman with her?’ asked the mother.

‘A particular friend of mine—­Dolly Longstaff.’

‘Dolly!’ ejaculated Mrs Boncassen.

‘Everybody calls him so.  His real name I believe to be Adolphus.’

‘Is he,—­is he—­just anybody?’ asked the anxious mother.

’He is a very great deal,—­as people go here.  Everybody knows him.  He is asked everywhere, but he goes nowhere.  The greatest compliment paid to you here is his presence.’

’Nay, my Lord, there are the Countess Montague, and the Marchioness of Capulet, and Lord Tybalt, and—­’

’They go everywhere.  They are nobodies.  It is a charity to even invited them.  But to have Dolly Longstaff once is a triumph for life.’

‘Laws!,’ said Mrs Boncassen, looking at the young man who was dancing.  ‘What has he done?’

‘He never did anything in his life.’

‘I suppose he’s very rich.’

’I don’t know.  I should think not.  I don’t know anything about his riches, but I can assure you that having him down here will quite give a character to the day.’

In the meantime Dolly Longstaff was in a state of great excitement.  Some part of the character assigned to him by Lord Silverbridge was true.  He very rarely did go anywhere, and yet was asked to a great many places.  He was a young man,—­though not a very young man,—­with a fortune of his own and the expectation of future fortune.  Few men living could have done less for the world than Dolly Longstaff,—­and yet he had a position of his own.  Now he had taken into his head to fall in love with Miss Boncassen.  This was an accident which had probably never happened to him before, and which had disturbed him much.  He had known Miss Boncassen a week or two before Lord Silverbridge had seen her, having by some chance dined out and sat next to her.  From that moment he had become changed, and had gone hither and thither in pursuit of the American beauty.  His passion having become suspected by his companions had excited their ridicule.  Nevertheless he had persevered;—­and now he was absolutely dancing with the lady out in the open air.  ’If this goes on, your friends will have to look after you and put you somewhere,’ Mr Lupton had said to him in one of the intervals of the dance.  Dolly had turned round and scowled, and suggested that if Mr Lupton would mind his own affairs it would be as well for the world at large.

At the present crisis Dolly was very much excited.  When the dance was over, as a matter of course, he offered the lady his arm, and as a matter of course she accepted it.  ’You’ll take a turn; won’t you?’ he said.