We waited. It was early: there was time For greeting, and the morning’s compliment; And gradually a ripple of women’s talk Arose and fell, and tossed about a spray Of English _s_s, soft as a silent hush, And, notwithstanding, quite as audible As louder phrases thrown out by the men. —‘Yes, really, if we’ve need to wait in church, We’ve need to talk there.’—‘She? ’Tis Lady Ayr, In blue—not purple! that’s the dowager.’ —‘She looks as young.’—‘She flirts as young, you mean! Why if you had seen her upon Thursday night, You’d call Miss Norris modest.’—‘_You_ again! I waltzed with you three hours back. Up at six, Up still at ten: scarce time to change one’s shoes. I feel as white and sulky as a ghost, So pray don’t speak to me, Lord Belcher.’—‘No, I’ll look at you instead, and it’s enough While you have that face.’ ‘In church, my lord! fie, fie!’ —‘Adair, you stayed for the Division?’—‘Lost By one.’ ‘The devil it is! I’m sorry for’t. And if I had not promised Mistress Grove’ ... —‘You might have kept your word to Liverpool.’ ‘Constituents must remember, after all, We’re mortal.’—‘We remind them of it.’—‘Hark, The bride comes! Here she comes, in a stream of milk!’ —‘There? Dear, you are asleep still; don’t you know The five Miss Granvilles? always dressed in white To show they’re ready to be married.’—‘Lower! The aunt is at your elbow.’—‘Lady Maud, Did Lady Waldemar tell you she had seen This girl of Leigh’s?’ ‘No,—wait! ’twas Mrs. Brookes, Who told me Lady Waldemar told her— No, ’twasn’t Mrs. Brookes.’—‘She’s pretty?’—‘Who? Mrs. Brookes? Lady Waldemar?’—‘How hot! Pray is’t the law to-day we’re not to breathe? You’re treading on my shawl—I thank you, sir.’ —‘They say the bride’s a mere child, who can’t read, But knows the things she shouldn’t, with wide-awake Great eyes. I’d go through fire to look at her.’ —‘You do, I think.’—‘And Lady Waldemar (You see her; sitting close to Romney Leigh; How beautiful she looks, a little flushed!) Has taken up the girl, and organised Leigh’s folly. Should I have come here, you suppose, Except she’d asked me?’—‘She’d have served him more By marrying him herself.’ ‘Ah—there she comes, The bride, at last!’ ‘Indeed, no. Past eleven. She puts off her patched petticoat to-day And puts on May-fair manners, so begins By setting us to wait.’—‘Yes, yes, this Leigh Was always odd; it’s in the blood, I think; His father’s uncle’s cousin’s second son Was, was ... you understand me—and for him, He’s stark!—has turned quite lunatic upon This modern question of the poor—the poor: An excellent subject when you’re moderate; You’ve seen Prince Albert’s model lodging-house? Does honour to his Royal Highness. Good!