Friendship and Folly: The Merriweather Chronicles Book I by Meredith Allady

Greenlings, who stood gazing in disgusted resignation at the couple. It was Miss Spenhope who had made the introduction, doing so, with eyes full of an inward amusement, which was not explained until Sir Warrington, eschewing superfluous civilities, pleadingly requested a dance with Miss Parry, in an Irish accent so lush as to be almost impenetrable. Julia murmured assent to a question whose meaning she assumed rather than understood, and allowed herself to be led out on to the floor by her beaming conquest.
    Sir Warrington’s features were regular, but Ann did not think him more than tolerably good-looking; but then, she did not admire fair hair, nor ruddy complexions, and was perhaps not strictly impartial in her judgement. And though he was certainly tall, his movements were entirely without grace, and his figure not of the best. Or perhaps it was merely that he wore his fashionable garments with so much an air of finding them a nuisance, that they had settled into retaliatory bulges and wrinkles. Ann could not help thinking of the description of the Vulgar Man, whose “clothes fit him so ill, and constrain him so much, that he seems rather their prisoner than their proprietor.” He walked, furthermore, at a slight angle, so that his shoulders preceded his feet wherever he went, and had a way of carrying his head, as if every moment about to duck it bashfully; only he never did. The requirements of the dance seemed to be a recurring trial to him, but his incompetence in this respect did nothing to impair his good-humor, and Ann saw that he talked to Julia almost without pause, and that her replies appeared to gratify him exceedingly. He smiled more broadly than ever, and missed his steps with ever-increasing aplomb.
    Miss Spenhope had moved just far enough away to make it clear that she had no further interest in the matter; and having maintained a silence of sufficient length to foil any expectation of an immediate application, Ann at last permitted herself to turn, and seek the intelligence, which that young lady was plainly desirous of giving.
    “Sir Warrington? A perfectly harmless creature, I assure you, and vastly entertaining. He is called ‘Edgeworth’s Essay,’” said she, with a rather sly smile. “I could not do less than present him to Miss Parry, for you must know he distinguishes only the prettiest girls with his attentions, and it was only a matter of time before he discovered her for himself.”
    Though her words declared his respectability, her tone implied the absurdity of his “attentions,” forcing Ann to seek a further explanation.
    “Respectable! Oh, highly so, Miss Northcott. It is a question if the poor man could be anything else! He is quite stupid, you know, not to mention quite dreadfully Irish, though I do not mean to imply that the two invariably go together. But he is always blessing either his body or soul at the least provocation, and he dances, as you can see, like a great unwieldy mannikin, hung upon wires--but perfectly respectable! As for his attentions, I am afraid Miss Parry must not allow herself to be swayed by his present enthusiasm. He admires all the ladies he dances with, but it is not lasting, and he soon moves on to the next one to catch his eye. Not long ago he was much attached to Miss Caroline P_____y and danced with her three times ---we all thought he was caught, for she is desperate for some sort of Burkean prefix, and played him very cleverly.”
    She paused; for a long minute Ann weighed the satisfaction of disappointing such irritating confidence, against that of gratified curiosity; but having delayed long enough to instill a reasonable doubt of her continued interest, in the end Ann could not resist asking after the fate of Miss P_____y’s ambitions.
    Miss Spenhope was amused, but her triumph was only a shade of voice as she replied, “A tragic one, I fear. She was presented to his brother, and all was at an end. Mr. Lenox is a great favorite with me, by