Lucy Brandon was as yet, however, perfectly unturned; and as for her heart, the only impression that it had ever received, was made by that wandering guest of the village rector, whom she had never again seen, but who yet clung to her imagination, invested not only with all the graces which in right of a singularly handsome person he possessed,—but with those to which he never could advance a claim,—more dangerous to her peace, from the very circumstance of their origin in her fancy, not his merits.
They had now been some little time at Bath, and Brandon's brief respite was pretty nearly expired, when a public ball of uncommon and manifold attraction was announced. It was to be graced not only by the presence of all the surrounding families, but also by that of Royalty itself; it being an acknowledged fact, that people dance much better, and eat much more supper, when any relation to a King is present.
"I must stay for this ball, Lucy," said Brandon, who, after spending the day with Lord Mauleverer, returned home in a mood more than usually cheerful. "I must stay for this one ball, Lucy,
