"But art thou sure Sir Rowland will not fail to come? or will he not fail when he does come? Will he be importunate, Foible, and push? For if he should not be importunate, I shall never break decorums:--I shall die with confusion, if I am forced to advance.--Oh no, I can never advance!--I shall swoon, if he should expect advances. No, I hope Sir Rowland is better bred than to put a lady to the necessity of breaking her forms. I won't be too coy neither--I won't give him despair--but a little disdain is not amiss; a little scorn is alluring." _Foible._ A little scorn becomes your ladyship. _Lady Wishfort._ Yes, but tenderness becomes me best--a sort of dyingness--you see that picture has a sort of a--ha, Foible! a swimmingness in the eye--yes, I'll look so--my niece affects it; but she wants features. Is Sir Rowland handsome? Let my toilet be removed--I'll dress above. I'll receive Sir Rowland here. Is he handsome? Don't answer me. I won't know: I'll be surprised, I'll be taken by surprise.[352]... And how do I look, Foible? _F._ Most killing well, madam. _Lady W._ Well, and how shall I receive him? in what figure shall I give his heart the first impression?... Shall I sit?--no, I won't sit--I'll walk--ay, I'll walk from the door upon his entrance; and then turn full upon him--no, that will be too sudden. I'll lie--ay, I'll lie down--I'll receive him in my little dressing-room; there's a couch--yes, yes, I'll give the first impression on a couch. I won't lie neither; but loll and lean upon one elbow: with one foot a little dangling off, jogging in a thoughtful way--yes--and then as soon as he appears, start, ay, start, and be surprised, and rise to meet him in a pretty disorder."[353] These hesitations of a finished coquette become still more vehement at the critical moment. Lady Plyant thinks herself beloved by Mellefont, who does not love her at all, and tries in vain to undeceive her.