_Handy, jun._ Then I trust, madam, you will be patriot enough to agree with me, that as a nation is poor, whose only wealth is importation--that therefore the humble native artist may ever hope to obtain from his countrymen those fostering smiles, without which genius must sicken and industry decay. But it requires no _valet de place_ to conduct you through the purlieus of fashion, for now the way of the world is, for every one to pursue their own way; and following the fashion is differing as much as possible from the rest of your acquaintance. _Miss B._ But, surely sir, there is some distinguishing feature, by which the votaries of fashion are known? _Handy, jun._ Yes; but that varies extremely--sometimes fashionable celebrity depends on a high waist--sometimes on a low carriage--sometimes on high play, and sometimes on low breeding--last winter it rested solely on green peas! _Miss B._ Green peas! _Handy, jun._ Green peas--That lady was the most enchanting, who could bring the greatest quantity of green peas to her table at Christmas! the struggle was tremendous! Mrs. Rowley Powley had the best of it by five pecks and a half, but it having been unfortunately proved, that at her ball there was room to dance and eat conveniently--that no lady received a black eye, and no coachman was killed, the thing was voted decent and comfortable, and scouted accordingly. _Miss B._ Is comfort then incompatible with fashion? _Handy, jun._ Certainly!--Comfort in high life would be as preposterous as a lawyer's bag crammed with truth, or his wig decorated with coquelicot ribbons! No--it is not comfort and selection that is sought, but numbers and confusion! So that a fashionable party resembles Smithfield market,--only a good one when plentifully stocked--and ladies are reckoned by the score, like sheep, and their husbands by droves, like horned cattle! _Miss B._ Ha, ha! and the conversation-- _Handy, jun._ Oh! like the assembly--confused, vapid, and abundant; as "How do, ma'am!--no accident at the door?--he, he!"--"Only my carriage broke to pieces!"--"I hope you had not your pocket picked!"--"Won't you sit down to faro?"--"Have you many to-night?"--"A few, about six hundred!"--"Were you at Lady Overall's?"--"Oh yes; a delicious crowd, and plenty of peas, he, he!"--and thus runs the fashionable race. _Sir Abel._ Yes; and a precious run it is--full gallop all the way: first they run on--then their fortune is run through--then bills are run up--then they are run hard--then they've a run of luck--then they run out, and then they run away!--But I'll forgive fashion all its follies in consideration of one of its blessed laws. _Handy, jun._ What may that be! _Sir Abel._ That husband and wife must never be seen together. _Enter_ SERVANT. _Serv._ Miss Blandford, your father expects you. _Miss B._ I hope I shall find him more composed. _Handy, jun._ Is Sir Philip ill?