“Now if Mr Meadows had the least good-nature in the world,” said Miss Larolles, “he would offer to help us; but he's so excessive odd, that I believe if we were all of us to fall down and break our necks, he would be so absent he would hardly take the trouble to ask us how we did.” “Why in so desperate a case,” said Mr Gosport, “the trouble would be rather superfluous. However, don't repine that one of the cavaliers stays with us by way of guard, lest your friend the spy should take us by surprize while our troop is dispersed.” “O Lord,” cried Miss Larolles, “now you put it in my head, I dare say that wretch has got my dog! only think how horrid!” “I saw plainly,” said Mr Gosport, looking significantly at Cecilia, “that he was feloniously inclined, though I must confess I took him not for a dog-stealer.” Miss Larolles then, running up to Mr Meadows, called out, “I have a prodigious immense favour to ask of you, Mr Meadows.” “Ma'am!” cried Mr Meadows, with his usual start. “It's only to know, whether if that horrid creature should come back, you could not just ride up to him and shoot him, before he gets to us? Now will you promise me to do it?” “You are vastly good,” said he, with a vacant smile; “what a charming evening! Do you love the country?” “Yes, vastly; only I'm so monstrously tired, I can hardly stir a step. Do you like it?” “The country? O no! I detest it! Dusty hedges, and chirping sparrows! 'Tis amazing to me any body can exist upon such terms.” “I assure you,” cried Miss Larolles, “I'm quite of your opinion. I hate the country so you've no notion. I wish with all my heart it was all under ground. I declare, when I first go into it for the summer, I cry so you can't think. I like nothing but London.--Don't you?” “London!” repeated Mr Meadows, “O melancholy! the sink of all vice and depravity. Streets without light! Houses without air! Neighbourhood without society! Talkers without listeners!--'Tis astonishing any rational being can endure to be so miserably immured.” “Lord, Mr Meadows,” cried she, angrily, “I believe you would have one live no where!” “True, very true, ma'am,” said he, yawning, “one really lives no where; one does but vegetate, and wish it all at an end. Don't you find it so, ma'am?” “Me? no indeed; I assure you I like living of all things. Whenever I'm ill, I'm in such a fright you've no idea. I always think I'm going to die, and it puts me so out of spirits you can't think. Does not it you, too?” Here Mr Meadows, looking another way, began to whistle. “Lord,” cried Miss Larolles, “how excessive distressing! to ask one questions, and then never hear what one answers!” Here the Captain returned alone; and Miss Larolles, flying to meet him, demanded where was her dog? “I have the malbeur to assure you,” answered he, “that I never was more aneanti in my life! the pretty little fellow has broke another leg!”