CHAPTER XVII.
The next day I accompanied my uncle and aunt to a dinner-party at Mr.
Wilmot's.

He had two ladies staying with him: his niece Annabella, a fine dashing girl, or rather young woman,--of some five-and-twenty, too great a flirt to be married, according to her own assertion, but greatly admired by the gentlemen, who universally pronounced her a splendid woman; and her gentle cousin, Milicent Hargrave, who had taken a violent fancy to me, mistaking me for something vastly better than I was.

And I, in return, was very fond of her.

I should entirely exclude poor Milicent in my general animadversions against the ladies of my acquaintance.

But it was not on her account, or her cousin's, that I have mentioned the party: it was for the sake of another of Mr.Wilmot's guests, to wit Mr.
Huntingdon.