'I'd rather walk with you than jog along in a chair by myself, my gay fellows, any day.' Most young fellows of spirit, at the eve of a ball, have their heads pretty full.

There is always some one bright particular star to whom, even as they look on their own handsome features in the mirror, their adoration is paid.
Puddock's shoe-buckles flashed for Gertrude Chattesworth, as he turned out his toes.

For her his cravat received its last careless touch--his ruffles shook themselves, and fell in rich elegance about his plump little hands.

For her his diamond ring gleamed like a burning star from his white little finger; and for her the last fragrance was thrown over his pocket-handkerchief, and the last ogle thrown upon his looking-glass.

All the interest of his elaborate toilet--the whole solemn process and detail--was but a worship of his divinity, at which he officiated.