She was a touching, ingenuous victim,
unconscious of the pernicious forces which were hurrying her to her
ruin. With this idea of ruin there had already associated itself in the
young man's mind, the idea--a good deal more dim and incomplete--of
rescue; and it was the disposition to confirm himself in the view that
her charm was her own, and her fallacies, her absurdity, a mere
reflexion of unlucky circumstance, that led him to make an effort to
behold her in the position in which he could least bear to think of her.
Such a glimpse was all that was wanted to prove to him that she was a
person for whom he might open an unlimited credit of tender compassion.
He expected to suffer--to suffer deliciously.
By the time he had crossed Mrs. Burrage's threshold there was no doubt
whatever in his mind that he was in the fashionable world. It was
embodied strikingly in the stout, elderly, ugly lady, dressed in a
brilliant colour, with a twinkle of jewels and a bosom much uncovered,
who stood near the door of the first room, and with whom the people
passing in before him were shaking hands. Ransom made her a Mississipian
bow, and she said she was delighted to see him, while people behind him
pressed him forward. He yielded to the impulsion, and found himself in a
great saloon, amid lights and flowers, where the company was dense, and
there were more twinkling, smiling ladies, with uncovered bosoms. It was
certainly the fashionable world, for there was no one there whom he had
ever seen before.
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