"A lamp too early quenched, madam," said Mr Cargill; "I knew him well." "And so did I," eagerly replied the lady of the cerulean buskin; "he spoke ten languages--how mortifying to poor me, Mr. Cargill, who could only boast of five!--but I have studied a little since that time--I must have you to help me in my studies, Mr. Cargill--it will be charitable--but perhaps you are afraid of a female pupil?" A thrill, arising from former recollections, passed through poor Cargill's mind, with as much acuteness as the pass of a rapier might have done through his body; and we cannot help remarking, that a forward prater in society, like a busy bustler in a crowd, besides all other general points of annoyance, is eternally rubbing upon some tender point, and galling men's feelings, without knowing or regarding it. "You must assist me, besides, in my little charities, Mr. Cargill, now that you and I are become so well acquainted.--There is that Anne Heggie--I sent her a trifle yesterday, but I am told--I should not mention it, but only one would not have the little they have to bestow lavished on an improper object--I am told she is not quite proper--an unwedded mother, in short, Mr. Cargill--and it would be especially unbecoming in me to encourage profligacy." "I believe, madam," said the clergyman, gravely, "the poor woman's distress may justify your ladyship's bounty, even if her conduct has been faulty." "O, I am no prude, neither, I assure you, Mr. Cargill," answered the Lady Penelope. "I never withdraw my countenance from any one but on the most irrefragable grounds. I could tell you of an intimate friend of my own, whom I have supported against the whole clamour of the people at the Well, because I believe, from the bottom of my soul, she is only thoughtless--nothing in the world but thoughtless--O Mr. Cargill, how can you look across the table so intelligently?--who would have thought it of you?--Oh fie, to make such personal applications!" "Upon my word, madam, I am quite at a loss to comprehend"---- "Oh fie, fie, Mr. Cargill," throwing in as much censure and surprise as a confidential whisper can convey--"you looked at my Lady Binks--I know what you think, but you are quite wrong, I assure you; you are entirely wrong.--I wish she would not flirt quite so much with that young Lord Etherington though, Mr. Cargill--her situation is particular.--Indeed, I believe she wears out his patience; for see he is leaving the room before we sit down--how singular!--And then, do you not think it very odd, too, that Miss Mowbray has not come down to us?" "Miss Mowbray!--what of Miss Mowbray--is she not here?" said Mr. Cargill, starting, and with an expression of interest which he had not yet bestowed on any of her ladyship's liberal communications.