Here, in the midst of the days he considered so degenerate, he had found the very ideal of his heart.
The brilliant scene before him seemed to fade away.

Ah! if there was but some faint chance of distinguishing himself for her sake!--if she were but a princess in distress!--a lady for whom he could enter the lists and fight until he won! What was there in this prosaic century that he could do for her ?--literally nothing but give her flowers.
"Basil! Basil! my dear boy," said a voice near him.

"Pray excuse me, but what are you doing here?
Dreaming in a ballroom?
This will not do." And Basil, aroused from his dream, looked up to see the face of Colonel Mostyn, wearing an expression of perfect horror.
"Do rouse up, Basil! Do, for heaven's sake, try to be like every one else! Lady Masham wishes to know you; come with me." Basil followed, like a victim.

Lady Masham received him cordially, mentioned casually that she had been to school with his mother, therefore felt called upon to take a special interest in himself, and then, very kindly, introduced him to her youngest daughter, Miss Nellie, whom she pathetically called the flower of her flock.

Miss Nellie was a pretty girl, as were all the Misses Masham, or they would not have figured at her grace's ball.