[Illustration: _Fashionable arrivals._] The ivied battlements and frowning towers of Melincourt Castle, as they burst at once upon the sight, very much astonished the elder and delighted the younger lady; for the latter had cultivated a great deal of theoretical romance—in taste, not in feeling—an important distinction—which enabled her to be most liberally sentimental in words, without at all influencing her actions; to talk of heroic affection and selfsacrificing enthusiasm, without incurring the least danger of forming a disinterested attachment, or of erring in any way whatever on the score of practical generosity. Indeed, in all respects of practice the young lady was the true counterpart of her mother, though they sometimes differed a little in the forms of sentiment: thus, for instance, when any of their dear friends happened to go, as it is called, down hill in the world, the old lady was generally very severe on their _imprudence_, and the young lady very pathetic on their _misfortune_: but as to holding any further intercourse with, or rendering any species of assistance to, any dear friend so circumstanced, neither the one nor the other was ever suspected of conduct so very unfashionable. In the main point, therefore, of both their lives, that of making a _good match_ for Miss Danaretta, their views perfectly coincided; and though Miss Danaretta, in her speculative conversations on this subject, among her female acquaintance, talked as young ladies always talk, and laid down very precisely _the only kind of man she would ever think of marrying_, endowing him, of course, with all the virtues in our good friend Hookman’s Library; yet it was very well understood, as it usually is on similar occasions, that no other proof of the possession of the aforesaid virtues would be required from any individual who might present himself in the character of _Corydon sospiroso_ than a satisfactory certificate from the old lady in Threadneedle Street, that the bearer was a _good man_, and could be proved so in the _Alley_. Such were the amiable specimens of worldly wisdom, and affected romance, that prepared to invade the retirement of the mountain-enthusiast, the really romantic unworldly Anthelia. ‘What a strange-looking old place!’ said Mrs. Pinmoney; ‘it seems like anything but the dwelling of a young heiress. I am afraid the rascally postboys have joined in a plot against us, and intend to deliver us to a gang of thieves!’ ‘Banditti, you should say, mamma,’ said Miss Danaretta; ‘thieves is an odious word.’ ‘Pooh, child!’ said Mrs. Pinmoney. ‘The reality is odious enough, let the word be what it will. Is not a rogue a rogue, call him by what name you may?’ ‘Oh, certainly not,’ said Miss Danaretta; ‘for in that case a poor rogue without a title, would not be more a rogue than a rich rogue with one; but that he is so in a most infinite proportion, the whole experience of the world demonstrates.’