body of the gathering,[Pg 53] we shall suffer whole clouds of lace and muslin to drive on, like the lovely clouds over our head, with passing admiration, but with no hope of further knowledge of their lustre. The few persons whom we propose to make known will form part of the acquaintance of the traveller through this book, should he gird his loins to journey to the end.

[Pg 53]

That lady ripening in the sun beneath a pink parasol, is the Hon. Miss Candituft. You will be kind enough to look very attentively, yet withal deferentially, at that lady; and for this reason: it is to her enlarged knowledge of the true elements of society—as she has been known to call them—that you are indebted for the condescending attendance of the distinguished people who will this day eat, drink, and make merry at Jogtrot Hall. It was the good fortune of Miss Carraways to meet Miss Candituft abroad, travelling with her brother, the Hon. Cesar Candituft, whose baggage—with a large sum of money—had been secretly cut from his vehicle by the guilty hands of a demoralized banditti! The Carraways were then making a tour; they were very serviceable to the Canditufts, and a friendship began between the two young women that grew fast and close as ivy. Miss Candituft is called a fine woman; has been so called for some years. Her face, you perceive, is large and classical; very pale, and very full of intellect. There is only one reason why she is not married—the men are afraid of her. We think it only right to give this fact the widest publicity: to proclaim it with the most significant emphasis; it is so frequent a calamity, and yet so unsuspected by the principal sufferers. They know not—they who have eaten so much of the tree of knowledge, swallowing fruit, pips, leaves, twigs, bark and all—they know not how terrible they make themselves to a bachelor man. He may be six feet high, with shoulders broad as a table, and yet—we have known it—before such a woman his heart has melted into water. He has held his hand to her, with all the old feeling that he held forth his palm to the school ferula. Let Minerva take this axiom to her cool crystal breast—If she would condescend to marry, she must consent to leave[Pg 54] her owl at home. Now, Miss Candituft would always carry the pet to parties with her; and, we have given the result; the men—poor birds!—were alarmed, and fluttered away from her. Nevertheless, she had a fine look: a very white skin, a large—a little icy, perhaps—full, blue eye; a close, controlled mouth; a well-cut, very high-bred nose; and large long twists of amber-coloured ringlets, dancing in her lap, like burnished snakes. For all this, men walked about her 

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