‘Pretty well! I wish you had been with us, Lizzie! Monsieur de Nesselrode looked so graceful on horseback! and _your_ flame Charteris has a seat like a centaur. I really think the horse Despard has sent him would throw any ordinary rider.’ ‘_My_ flame! You wretch!’ cried the married lady, with girlish indignation, as she made a playful poke at Miss Sophy with her parasol. ‘I wonder what my Willy would say, to hear you talk like that. And when I have just been telling Miss Marsh and Miss Lovett how you ran away from us before breakfast this morning, in order to see the gentlemen start!’ ‘I didn’t do any such thing,’ responded her friend. ‘You are such lazy creatures, I should get no breakfast till ten o’clock if I waited for you. And it was really incumbent on me to be home again somewhat early this morning, Lizzie; for I must alter that new costume of yours before you wear it again. It is crooked in the back, and makes your nice straight figure look quite like that of an old woman.’ ‘Thanks, dear! You don’t know what a clever creature this is, Miss Marsh! She makes all her own dresses and bonnets and mantles; and she has been so good-natured, since she has been staying with me, in altering and manufacturing my wardrobe, that I am sure I don’t know what I shall do when she is gone.’ ‘Perhaps I don’t mean to go,’ said Miss Markham, facetiously. ‘You droll creature! Not if some one of your numerous admirers proposes to carry you off?’ ‘Ah, that would be a different thing. But if I married to-day,’ continued Miss Sophy, with the confidence in marriage of eighteen, ‘you would send back for me to-morrow!’ ‘Did you ever hear such impudence!’ cried Mrs. Carolus, appealing to us. ‘She actually imagines I couldn’t do without her! Well, Sophy, in that case, I suppose I should have to give house-room to _il caro sposo_ as well.’ ‘I rather fancy you would! Do you think I should come without him? I shall make much too great a pet of my husband for that.’ ‘Well, he’ll be a lucky fellow, whoever he is, when the day comes,’ responded Mrs. Carolus. Tessie and I, listening open-mouthed to this extraordinary example of feminine friendship, could not but believe that the last sentence at least was intended for sarcasm. But if so, no inflection of the speaker’s voice betrayed it. The words left her lips as glibly as though she were sounding the praises of her dearest friend. I turned away, sick at this exhibition of deceit, and thinking what mischief it was _not_ in the power of such women to create, who could lie with impunity, not only to each other but themselves. I stood there, silent and thoughtful, until, to my relief, I heard their voices in chorus, declaring it was time to go. ‘Good-bye, Miss Marsh! Good-bye, Miss Lovett! Come, Sophy dear,’ said Mrs. Carolus, blithely.