didn't seem inclined to talk much, and Tom would go on in such a ridiculous manner, that Polly told him she wouldn't listen, and began to hum bits of the opera. But she heard every word, nevertheless, and resolved to pay him for his impertinence, as soon as possible, by showing him what he had lost.
Their seats were in the balcony, and hardly were they settled, when, by one of those remarkable coincidences which are continually occurring in our youth, Mr. Sydney, and Fanny's old friend, Frank Moore, took their places just behind them.
"Oh, you villain! you did it on purpose," whispered Polly, as she turned from greeting their neighbors, and saw a droll look on Tom's face.
"I give you my word I didn't. It's the law of attraction, don't you see."
"If Fan likes it, I don't care."
"She looks resigned, I think."
She certainly did, for she was talking and laughing in the gayest manner with Frank, while Sydney was covertly surveying Polly, as if he didn't quite understand how the gray grub got so suddenly transformed into a white butterfly. It is a well-known fact, that dress plays a very important part in the lives of most women; and even the most sensible cannot help owning, sometimes, how much happiness they owe to a becoming gown, gracefully arranged hair, or a bonnet which brings out the best points in their faces, and puts them in a good humor. A great man was once heard to say, that what first attracted him to his well-beloved wife, was seeing her in a white muslin dress, with a blue shawl on the chair behind her. The dress
