“Probably, then,” said Cecilia, “I have passed tonight, for one of the VOLUBLES; however, all the advantage has been with the SUPERCILIOUS, for I have suffered a total repulse.” “Are you sure, however, you have not talked too well for her?” “O, a child of five years old ought to have been whipt for not talking better!” “But it is not capacity alone you are to consult when you talk with misses of the TON; were their understandings only to be considered, they would indeed be wonderfully easy of access! in order, therefore, to render their commerce somewhat difficult, they will only be pleased by an observance of their humours: which are ever most various and most exuberant where the intellects are weakest and least cultivated. I have, however, a receipt which I have found infallible for engaging the attention of young ladies of whatsoever character or denomination.” “O, then,” cried Cecilia, “pray favour me with it, for I have here an admirable opportunity to try its efficacy.” “I will give it you,” he answered, “with full directions. When you meet with a young lady who seems resolutely determined not to speak, or who, if compelled by a direct question to make some answer, drily gives a brief affirmative, or coldly a laconic negative---” “A case in point,” interrupted Cecilia. “Well, thus circumstanced,” he continued, “the remedy I have to propose consists of three topics of discourse.” “Pray what are they?” “Dress, public places, and love.” Cecilia, half surprised and half diverted, waited a fuller explanation without giving any interruption. “These three topics,” he continued, “are to answer three purposes, since there are no less than three causes from which the silence of young ladies may proceed: sorrow, affectation, and stupidity.” “Do you, then,” cried Cecilia, “give nothing at all to modesty?” “I give much to it,” he answered, “as an excuse, nay almost as an equivalent for wit; but for that sullen silence which resists all encouragement, modesty is a mere pretence, not a cause.” “You must, however, be somewhat more explicit, if you mean that I should benefit from your instructions.” “Well, then,” he answered, “I will briefly enumerate the three causes, with directions for the three methods of cure. To begin with sorrow. The taciturnity which really results from that is attended with an incurable absence of mind, and a total unconsciousness of the observation which it excites; upon this occasion, public places may sometimes be tried in vain, and even dress may fail; but love--” “Are you sure, then,” said Cecilia, with a laugh, “that sorrow has but that one source?” “By no means,” answered he, “for perhaps papa may have been angry, or mama may have been cross; a milliner may have sent a wrong pompoon, or a chaperon to an assembly may have been taken ill--” “Bitter subjects of affliction, indeed! And are these all you allow us?”