ought to have much better sense, and more modesty, than to even desire to be the companions of young men not entitled to the privilege, on such occasions. Those who do it gain the pleasure of present gratification at the expense of diminished respect in the eyes of the very men who seemed to take so much delight in obliging them. But little flattered would a young lady, who had been guilty of so flagrant a violation of good sense, good manners, and politeness, feel, to overhear a conversation like this:—
“Didn’t I see you at Hertz’s concert with Caroline T?”
“Yes.”
“How in the world came you to have that honor?”
The young man addressed shrugs his shoulders and arches his eyebrows, but makes no reply.
“How was it, Harry? Tell me! I had no idea of your being particularly taken in that quarter.”
“Nor am I very much taken. The fact is, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Indeed!”
“No, the gypsy asked me to take her, and I couldn’t refuse, of course.”
