When Cecilia passed by, overloaded with finery, and encumbered with ornament, Mrs. Temple exclaimed, "Good heavens! how that handsome girl has contrived to disfigure herself! It is no wonder her mother complained of her being so long dressing: I hope, my dear Miss Wildenheim, you will never give into such follies." Adelaide smilingly replied, "I cannot invert the first axiom of mechanics, and say of the labours of the toilet, _that we gain in power what we lose in time_." "Never, my dear girl, as long as you live, mention the word _mechanics_ again, on pain of being pronounced a learned lady; which crime, in this country, is punished by tortures far more severe than the _peine forte et dure_ of the old French law. I assure you, in England, the reputation of _femme savante_ is scarcely less odious than that of _femme galante_. A fool with youth and beauty maybe quite _recherchÈe_, but no mental or bodily perfection can atone for the blemish of _learning_ in a woman!" Mrs. Temple's attention was now attracted by seeing Mrs. Sullivan doing the honours to a _soi-disant_ beau, who scarcely heard what she said, being intent on copying the air of real fashion so striking in Mr. Sedley. "This here's the courting room, Sir--That there's the refrigerating house for drinking o-shot--And that there's my daughter Meely, and that there other one's my Cilly--we calls one Grace and Dignity and the other Little Elegance--I'm sure you must allow we've given them wery opprobrious names.--Look'ee here, Sir, Meely did all this here topography herself[11], entirely from her own deceptions; I assure you, Sir, she's pro-digiars clever." Mrs. Temple, finding Mrs. Sullivan's discourse utterly subversive of all decorum of countenance, left the dangerous neighbourhood, and took Adelaide to walk about the room, for the double purpose of composing her own features, and informing her young friend of the names and characters of such of the guests as she was unacquainted with. "Who is that lovely innocent girl, sitting near the transparency of Mirth and her crew, with her head on one side, and her eyes cast down with so much modesty?" "I dare say, Miss Wildenheim, she is at this moment, with affected _naÔvetÈ_, saying something to the gentleman next her, which _he_ finds unanswerable. She is a most incorrigible little flirt; and as she is no fool, her conversation is in my mind quite reprehensible. She was the daughter of a poor baronet of this county, and to counterbalance her want of fortune, was brought up in the most homely manner, being, for example, accustomed to iron her own clothes and go to market. Against the consent of her friends, she married a _petit-maÓtre_ parson, with little except a handsome person and agreeable manners to recommend him, and nothing but a curacy to support him and his beautiful young wife. They now live with his mother, who takes care of their children, the father being too constantly occupied in fishing, hunting, and snoring, the mother in