Very soon after, he hastily arose, and seeming entirely to forget that he had spoke to her, very abruptly walked away. Mr Gosport, who was advancing to Cecilia, and had watched part of this scene, stopt him as he was retreating, and said “Why Meadows, how's this? are you caught at last?” “O worn to death! worn to a thread!” cried he, stretching himself, and yawning; “I have been talking with a young lady to entertain her! O such heavy work! I would not go through it again for millions! “What, have you talked yourself out of breath?” “No; but the effort! the effort!--O, it has unhinged me for a fortnight!--Entertaining a young lady!--one had better be a galley-slave at once!” “Well but, did she not pay your toils? She is surely a sweet creature.” “Nothing can pay one for such insufferable exertion! though she's well enough, too--better than the common run,--but shy, quite too shy; no drawing her out.” “I thought that was to your taste. You commonly hate much volubility. How have I heard you bemoan yourself when attacked by Miss Larolles!” “Larolles? O distraction! She talks me into a fever in two minutes. But so it is for ever! nothing but extremes to be met with! common girls are too forward, this lady is too reserved--always some fault! always some drawback! nothing ever perfect!” “Nay, nay,” cried Mr Gosport, “you do not know her; she is perfect enough in all conscience.” “Better not know her, then,” answered he, again yawning, “for she cannot be pleasing. Nothing perfect is natural;--I hate every thing out of nature.” He then strolled on, and Mr Gosport approached Cecilia. “I have been wishing,” cried he, “to address you this half hour, but as you were engaged with Mr Meadows, I did not dare advance.” “O, I see your malice!” cried Cecilia; “you were determined to add weight to the value of your company, by making me fully sensible where the balance would preponderate.” “Nay, if you do not admire Mr Meadows,” cried he, “you must not even whisper it to the winds.” “Is he, then, so very admirable?” “O, he is now in the very height of fashionable favour: his dress is a model, his manners are imitated, his attention is courted, and his notice is envied.” “Are you not laughing?” “No, indeed; his privileges are much more extensive than I have mentioned: his decision fixes the exact limits between what is vulgar and what is elegant, his praise gives reputation, and a word from him in public confers fashion!” “And by what wonderful powers has he acquired such influence?”