This morning, was not Maria playing the harpsichord whilst my Fanny taught him the minuet?
'Twas a charming young group, I assure you, and it brought tears into my eyes to look at the young creatures.
Poor lad! we are as fond of him as you are, dear Baroness!" Now, Madame de Bernstein had happened, through her own ears or her maid's, to overhear what really took place in consequence of this harmless little scene.

Lady Castlewood had come into the room where the young people were thus engaged in amusing and instructing themselves, accompanied by her son William, who arrived in his boots from the kennel.
"Bravi, bravi! Oh, charming!" said the Countess, clapping her hands, nodding with one of her best smiles to Harry Warrington, and darting a look at his partner, which my Lady Fanny perfectly understood; and so, perhaps, did my Lady Maria at her harpsichord, for she played with redoubled energy, and nodded her waving curls, over the chords.
"Infernal young Choctaw! Is he teaching Fanny the war-dance?
and is Fan going to try her tricks upon him now ?" asked Mr.William, whose temper was not of the best.
And that was what Lady Castlewood's look said to Fanny.

"Are you going to try your tricks upon him now ?" She made Harry a very low curtsey, and he blushed, and they both stopped dancing, somewhat disconcerted.

Lady Maria rose from the harpsichord and walked away.
"Nay, go on dancing, young people! Don't let me spoil sport, and let me play for you," said the Countess; and she sate down to the instrument and played.
"I don't know how to dance," says Harry, hanging his head down, with a blush that the Countess's finest carmine could not equal.
"And Fanny was teaching you?
Go on teaching him, dearest Fanny!" "Go on, do!" says William, with a sidelong growl.
"I--I had rather not show off my awkwardness in company," adds Harry, recovering himself.

"When I know how to dance a minuet, be sure I will ask my cousin to walk one with me." "That will be very soon, dear Cousin Warrington, I am certain," remarks the Countess, with her most gracious air.
"What game is she hunting now ?" thinks Mr.William to himself, who cannot penetrate his mother's ways; and that lady, fondly calling her daughter to her elbow, leaves the room.
They are no sooner in the tapestried passage leading away to their own apartment, but Lady Castlewood's bland tone entirely changes.