The squire and his sister,
Mr. Prattle, and lord Martin, formed a part of the company. The first
bustle was nearly composed, when Damon entered the assembly.
He appeared to be a stranger to every body present. And, as he is equally
a stranger to our readers, we will now announce him in proper form. Damon
appeared to be about twenty years of age. His person was tall, and his
limbs slender and well formed. His dress was elegance itself. His coat was
ornamented with a profusion of lace, and the diamond sparkled in his shoe.
His countenance was manly and erect. There appeared in it a noble
confidence, which the spectator would at first sight ascribe to dignity of
birth, and a perfect familiarity with whatever is elegant and polite. This
confidence however had not the least alloy of _hauteur_, his eye
expressed the most open sensibility and the kindest sympathy.
There is something undescribably interesting in the figure we have
delineated. The moment our hero entered the room, the attention of every
person present was fixed upon him. The master of the ceremonies
immediately advanced, and escorted him to the most honourable seat that
yet remained vacant. While Damon examined with an eager eye the gay
parterre of beauty that appeared before him, a general whisper was excited
upon his account. "Who is he?" "Who is he?" echoed from every corner of
the room.
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