Lady Harriett looked at me, and perceiving that my eye said “go on,” as plain as eye could possibly speak, she continued--“Which of the wells do you attend, Lady Babbleton?” “All,” replied the patronizing dowager. “I like to encourage the poor people here; I’ve no notion of being proud because one has a title, Lady Arriett.” “No,” rejoined the worthy helpmate of Sir Lionel Garrett; “every body talks of your condescension, Lady Babbleton; but are you not afraid of letting yourself down by going every where?” “Oh,” answered the countess, “I admit very few into my set, at home, but I go out promiscuously;” and then, looking at me, she said, in a whisper, to Lady Harriett, “Who is that nice young gentleman?” “Mr. Pelham,” replied Lady Harriett; and, turning to me, formally introduced us to each other. “Are you any relation (asked the dowager) to Lady Frances Pelham?” “Only her son,” said I. “Dear me,” replied Lady Babbleton, “how odd; what a nice elegant woman she is! She does not go much out, does she? I don’t often meet her.” “I should not think it likely that your ladyship did meet her much. She does not visit promiscuously.” “Every rank has its duty,” said Lady Harriett, gravely; “your mother, Mr. Pelham, may confine her circle as much as she pleases; but the high rank of Lady Babbleton requires greater condescension; just as the Dukes of Sussex and Gloucester go to many places where you and I would not.” “Very true!” said the innocent dowager; “and that’s a very sensible remark! Were you at Bath last winter, Mr. Pelham?” continued the countess, whose thoughts wandered from subject to subject in the most rudderless manner. “No, Lady Babbleton, I was unfortunately at a less distinguished place.” “What was that?” “Paris!” “Oh, indeed! I’ve never been abroad; I don’t think persons of a certain rank should leave England; they should stay at home and encourage their own manufactories.” “Ah!” cried I, taking hold of Lady Babbleton’s shawl, “what a pretty Manchester pattern this is.” “Manchester pattern!” exclaimed the petrified peeress; “why it is real cachemere: you don’t think I wear any thing English, Mr. Pelham?” “I beg your ladyship ten thousand pardons. I am no judge of dress; but to return--I am quite of your opinion, that we ought to encourage our own manufactories, and not go abroad: but one cannot stay long on the Continent, even if one is decoyed there. One soon longs for home again.” “Very sensibly remarked,” rejoined Lady Babbleton: “that’s what I call true patriotism and morality. I wish all the young men of the present day were like you. Oh, dear!--here’s a great favourite of mine coming this way--Mr. Ritson!--do you know him; shall I introduce you?” “God forbid!” exclaimed I--frightened out of my wits, and my manners. “Come, Lady Harriett, let us rejoin Sir Lionel;” and, “swift at the word,” Lady Harriett retook my arm, nodded her adieu to Lady Babbleton, and withdrew with me to an obscurer part of the room.