"Yes, Pinkina will give him a dance." The Vane raises soft eyes in gratitude, Miss Pink is deeply impressed. "Good-night, Miss Pink." MISS PINK'S PARTNERS. These are Miss Pink's favorite partners; and this is the divided state of her heart between their respective merits. It is a case of Box and Cox, when one is out, the other in. Number One waltzes all round her affections, but Number Two sings like "ten cherubs," and he finds one out at concerts, and comes to five o'clock tea. It is neck and neck between Numbers One and Two. Number Three is chiefly exciting; he has a playful way of not appear ing when he is expected, and of making unheard-of efforts and risking arrests to accept one's invitations to dinner. It is not for his looks that Number Four is loved, but for his inward qualities. The fact is, Miss Pink believes him to be consumed by a hopeless attachment to herself; and how can she help being fond of a victim -a victim who provides her with monograms and helps her ball at croquet? Miss Pink has a dear friend, with whom she goes to tea at five o'clock. The friend is older than Miss Pink, and has charms and qualities which inspire Pinkina with reverence and awe. She "does her hair" in a wonderful way; it looks as if it (the hair) had taken fright at something and fled to the back of her head, where it was caught and hung up by a ribbon. The friend knows a great deal of the world, and gives such good advice; and has a brother (which is more to the purpose)-a tall brother, who is fond of tea. He is not a clerk-he is not any thing in particular; he is rather eligible than otherwise, but not ponderous. does not wear particularly good gloves, but he is " very nice." Mrs. Pink is always charmed that her dear child should go to see her friend. He The brother has drawn such a beautiful design in her monogram book-all pipes and beerjugs, twisted into every possible shape. Sometimes the friend's mother comes in, and insists on hearing Miss Pink sing-which is dreadful. Pinkina requires a good deal of persuasion. I "Now, just one little one. know you do sing charmingly." Chorus: "Oh do, do sing!" Pinkina grows very hot. "Oh, indeed, indeed, not at all; scarcely ever, in fact." She doesn't sing now; she never practices; and she has forgotten every thing; indeed, she assures them, every thing. "Oh do, now!" The brother is so fond of singing. "Ever so simple a ballad." "Please, a ballad." Chorus: "Oh yes, now do!" Miss Pink has taken off her gloves and turned round her chair, relenting. She becomes afresh restive at the last "propos." Oh dear! she doesn't know any thing English-only Italian things-only one Italian thing out of "Semiramide;" and it is a duet; and there is no one to sing the first part. That does not matter in the least. The friend's mamma is resolved she shall sing. When people begin to ask for music they are like calves running before a carriage-you can by no means stop or turn them. So Pinkina begins; she forgets the words; she suffers horribly; the piano is out of tune; but when it is finished they applaud her so immensely that she believes it can only have been her own ears that heard the evil sounds she has produced; and her determination never to sing again is shaken. THE CONCERT. see a huge T. S. in yellow braid on it when, after a long plunge, she hoists the unshapely body aloft. Mrs. Seefar has no bag; but she is so sharp -so sharp, that not the sleepiest handmaid can defraud her of her gear. "Number nine hundred and sixty-seven, please," she squeaks; "the big bundle under the second chair in the corner; three red cloaks, one brown shawl, a white one, a fur boa, and a pair of overshoes-all tied up together." She is an excellent, careful mother; she pins a handkerchief over her own head, ties the fur "Goodness, where is the cloak? Mrs. Pink's boa round her throat, and rushes at her daughcloak?" Pinkina does not half like the tussle that takes place before going away. The concert has been lovely, charming. To be sure, one was wedged in between the Marygolds, and Laura and Flora were behind, and the Misses Catt in frontwho are so very thin--and not a man could get near one; and only that stupid Spurs to speak to down stairs; not one of one's "particulars" to be seen. But still how perfectly the people did sing! How divine! how superb! how very pretty it all was! and how one's gown is crushed! Mrs. Sunflower looks quite refreshed; she had a nap during "Parige o Cara" that was worth ten snoozes at a drum. She will not have such another till next Sunday.. ters. "Here, Alexiny! Seraphiny!" (Mrs. Seefar is of Scottish extraction) "put this on, quick, now! put it up tight; don't catch cold!" Seraphiny is in no hurry; two minutes more and Twaddle will be there, and to him might fall the privilege of disposing one of the red cloaks around her fair shoulders. How sadly the mask falls from the face of society in the cloak-room! The bland gentlemen, the demure dames of middle age, how fierce, how objurgatory they become when their belongings are buried too deep, or the carriage can nowhere be discovered! How the jaws are distended, and the brows lowered, of those calm, dignified daughters; Mrs. Sunflower has her own bag; you can and how meanly does the nobler sex step out, with a cigar, to escape anxious quests for the | and not always highly valued or adequately remissing footmen! Few and far between are the gentle youths who will hunt up carriages-few, THE BROAD BELT. VOL. XXXI.-No. 184.-FF warded by the damsels for whose sakes they bruise their toes and risk their shiny boots in by-streets. Pinkina herself has had to tuck up her petticoats and her dignity, and dodge under the horses' heads to the other side of the square, where faithful Jeames had been desired to have the carriage in waiting, like modest Mr. Gilpin, "two doors off." The cloak-room is verily a test as great, of temper and courage, as that much maligned field, the croquêt ground. Pinkina is not fond of morning calls; but she does not dislike those that take her down town, because one is close to Stewart's, and there is sure to be half a yard more of something indispensable to Louise which can be got nowhere else; and then, oh, delight indescribable! gowns, cloaks, gloves, ties, ribbons, little belts, big belts, what is there not there? First time Pinkina went to Stewart's in solemn procession, to lay in We regret extremely that this should be Miss Pink. Mrs. Pink has not the least idea where she is Mrs. Pink, who makes it a rule always to know where she is. We repeat our regret that this should be Miss Pink. And that is not the millionaire with the red hair who is asking for the rose. Not even the lately bereaved owner of the Willows, of whom Mrs. Pink has so (justly) high an opinion. Nor is it Fred Vane; even he has expectations. It is Harry Goodlack, who goes out to China next week, as clerk. and she will cry a little, and look out of the window when she goes home; but the chances are that the cats will spring miauling from the leads below, and a smut fall pensively from above on her upturned nose, and Miss Pink will shut the window, and wash her face, and consign Harry Goodlack to oblivion, as is her duty. "Heartless woman," eh? Wait a moment. The heart-broken lover, what will he do? He will think of Pinkina when he is not thinking of something else, or is not sea-sick. "Brings people so nicely together." This is the correct thing to say of croquet; as if one were not tired to death of being brought together-dear me! He is morbid upon the subject of Pinkina. "He may keep the flower, mayn't he? Oh, is she going already? Is she tired of sitting there? Please not to go yet, just one minute more; it may be years and years, etc."-deep sighs, ad When Pinkina has an entirely new and killlibitum. "One must meet one's fate with what ing get-up, and a hat of unusual wickedness, courage one can." "From the moment he first she doesn't mind it so much; besides, bronze saw her, and so on. Does she remember? She boots and red heels are appreciated at croquet: had a blue ribbon in her hair?" This is all but still, what a nuisance to have to hold a malvery nice, but just fancy Mrs. Pink's feelings all let when you have a parasol and a coffee-cup the time! in your two hands, and then Jack Clip looks so Pinkina will put it all down in her journal, hopelessly dismal if you don't pay attention to the game; and none of the nice ones play-none | ina thinks; and then really how shockingly Dulof the "objects" except Number Four, and she is quite tired of him. Fred Vane is apt to dawdle under a tree with Dulcibella (whereas Pinkina hates Dulcibella and would be very glad to see her bonnet crushed or her hair out of order), and then the Sunflower girls get hold of Spurs and Butes (Butes is Number Two), and sit on chairs and talk; and one can't sit down one's self for half a second before a distracted host runs up with a mallet and implores one to join a game-"Won't one play ?" and his object being usually to dispose of a given number of mallets, he thrusts it into one's newly-gloved hand, or drops it on one's toes, or at all events breaks the thread of one's little ideas. cibella spooned-spooned so openly-Pinkina does not mean a pun, she is quite above punning on such a subject. But it grieves her for the dignity of the sex that such conduct should be too sadly common at the present day. It fully accounts to her for the conduct and the opinions of so many of the men she knows, and it is too bad, too hard on those who do not, etc. Miss Pink becomes slightly morbid, and her phraseology particularly involved on the subject of croquet toward the end of the season. Pinkina's symmetrical ankles ache with continual standing under blackened trees; her eyes are weary of the sight of red and black balls. It is toujours perdrix; and alas! the taste for lemon Pinkina never loses her temper at croquet-ice begins to pall even on her fresh young senses. oh dear, no!-well yes, of course she doesn't mean to deny she was a little provoked that day; but it was not because her ball was croqueted away so often, she did not care two straws about that; but it was so absurd of Dulcibella to go on in the way she did, pretending the balls would not remain steady unless Fred Vane held them when she put her foot on them. Mr. Vane must have hated kneeling there, Pink It is becoming impossible to discover a new trimming for dresses; so many have been invented and worn out. Mamma Pink is beginning to say, "Your green and white will do perfectly well for the end of the time," and "I do not mean to give you another bonnet." When it comes to "no more bonnets" it is high time to leave town. Pinkina feels herself a wiser, and, for the |