I
was talked into a sort of spasmodic interest about a certain Maria, who
was at the ball the night before, but could not be at the dinner to-day.
In an effort to show me why she would be especially charming to me, her
personal appearance, the style of her conversation and dress, her manner
of life, all were pulled to pieces, and discussed, dissected, and
classified, in the same way as I would handle one of the Composite.
Miss Stuart spoke but little. She fluttered gayly over the livelier
conversation, but seemed glad to fall back into a sort of wearied
repose, where she appeared to be living in a higher atmosphere than the
rest of us. This air of repose the others seemed to be trying to reach,
when they got no farther than dulness; and some of the gentlemen, I
thought, made too great efforts in their attempts to appear bored.
Especially one of them exerted himself greatly to gape so often in the
face of a lady with whom he was striving to keep up an appearance of
conversation, that the exertion itself must have wearied him.
After the ladies had left, the Chemist seated himself by me, that he
might, as he openly said, get out of me the secret of my sunshine.
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