"Singular now, what different replies people give to the same question," said her companion. "Most young ladies say, oh, no, Mr. Evan! Or, how can you ask such things, Mr. Conway? Or, dear me, what makes you think so? You may imagine how much refreshed I feel, when a young lady makes an answer which shows something like thought and originality. Pray who taught you to sing?" "I believe, I taught myself," said Margaret, amused by the singularity of her neighbour. "Very industrious of you!" said he smiling. "It is a great exertion to teach oneself anything. One has to undergo the double labour of master and scholar--both hard situations. Do you like the society in this neighbourhood?" "I know nothing of it. I arrived to-day, just before dinner." "But the general aspect of it--do pronounce an opinion. What a combination of grace and intelligence in the ladies! and--and--what is the corresponding virtue in the gentlemen?" "I cannot tell," said Margaret. "Oh! let us come to a decision--or, suppose we illustrate. The man opposite, whom that amiable girl is trying to encourage, mistaking awkwardness for shyness,--is he your beau-ideal?" "I will not tell you," said Margaret. "Poor Humphries!" said Mr. Evan, still looking at the couple on the other side. "He will go home now, and swear she is his devoted admirer! How well Miss Bremer hits off a scene of that kind in the new novel of the H---- Family." "I recollect it," said Margaret, smiling. "His letter to his brother--ha! ha!--You ladies see the bye-play of society so very keenly." "I am not an authoress," said Margaret. "I am aware of that. You do not look in the least like one, I can assure you." "What do they look like, then?" "Green spectacles, frizzled hair, which they obstinately refuse to cover with a cap. Large hands in black mittens--ditto feet, in villainous thick shoes. In fact, every thing that is most odious in women, and to crown all, when they walk abroad, or take the air, or whatever phrase they may employ to indicate their savage peregrinations, they exhibit to the world an old straw bonnet adorned with a broken black feather--this costume is invariable." "I do not believe that picture to be always correct," said Margaret laughing. "But it has entirely answered my purpose, it has made you laugh; and a genuine merry laugh is not a thing to be met with every day in the week." "But a description is of no value if it is devoid of truth," said Margaret. "Truth, my dear Miss Capel, is a very excellent lady or gentleman, (I am not quite certain of the gender) and I do not dispute its value; for you may have often remarked that the things are valuable in proportion to their scarcity. The most ill-favoured curiosities fetch a high price in the market. Nobody denies that truth is scarce enough to be a curiosity, and in most cases a very ill-favoured one. You don't agree with me, and I'm very sorry for it--but I cannot alter my opinion."