"Softly, softly," interrupted Mr. Stanley, "retrench your plural number. It is only one girl out of six that has deviated from the beaten track. I do not expect many converts to what I must rather call my practice in one instance, than my general opinion. I am so convinced of the prevailing prejudice, that the thing has never been named out of the family. If my gay neighbor Miss Rattle knew that Lucilla had learned Latin, she would instantly find out a few moments to add that language to her innumerable acquirements, because her mother can afford to pay for it, and because Lady Di. Dash has never learned it. I assure you, however" (laughing as he spoke), "I never intend to smuggle my poor girl on any man by concealing from him this unpopular attainment, any more than I would conceal any personal defect." "I will honestly confess," said Sir John, who had not yet spoken, "that had I been to judge the case _a priori_, had I met Miss Stanley under the terrifying persuasion that she was a scholar, I own I should have met her with a prejudice; I should have feared she might be forward in conversation, deficient in feminine manners, and destitute of domestic talents. But having had such a fair occasion of admiring her engaging modesty, her gentle and unassuming tone in society, and above all, having heard from Lady Belfield how eminently she excels in the true science of a lady--domestic knowledge--I can not refuse her that additional regard, which this solid acquirement, so meekly borne, deserves. Nor, on reflection, do I see why we should be so forward to instruct a woman in the language spoken at Rome in its present degraded state, in which there are comparatively few authors to improve her, and yet be afraid that she should be acquainted with that which was its vernacular tongue, in its age of glory two thousand years ago, and which abounds with writers of supreme excellence."