She will not make any great sensation.

Too sentimental and countrified.

As Lord Byron says,--'Smells of bread and butter.'" This last sneering remark, I considered a compliment.

My charming Kate, looked as fresh and natural as a new-blown rose with the morning dew still fresh upon its petals.

There was nothing studied or affected about her--no appearance of display--no effort to attract admiration; she was an unsophisticated child of nature, and the delightful frankness, with which she received the homage of the male portion of the company, was quite a contrast to the supercilious airs of the fashionable belles.
The opinion of the gentlemen with regard to the fair _debutante_, was quite the reverse of those given by her own sex.
"What a lovely girl!" "What an easy graceful carriage!" "Did you ever see a more charming expression--a more bewitching smile?
A perfect lady from head to foot." "I have lost _my_ heart already." "By Jove! won't she make a noise in the gay world!" "The beauty of the season." "A prize, independent of her large for tune!" "And doubly a prize with." And thus the men prated of her among themselves.
The excitement at length subsided; and favoured by the obscurity of my situation, I could watch at a distance all her movements, and never tire of gazing upon that beaming face.
By some strange coincidence, I could hardly think it purely accidental, Mrs.Hepburn and her niece came up to the table upon which I was leaning.
I rose up in confusion, wondering if they would recognize me, and offered the elder lady my chair.
In my hurry and agitation, the portfolio fell from my hand, and the fine prints were scattered over the floor and table.
A general laugh arose at my expense; I felt annoyed, but laughed as loudly as the rest.