“Miss Elmour,” her ladyship said, “was a very sensible young woman, no doubt; but she could hardly be considered as a model of fashion.” A new standard for estimating merit was raised in Almeria’s mind; and her friend, for an instant, sunk before the vast advantage of having the most fashionable mantua-maker and milliner in town. Ashamed of this dereliction of principle, she a few minutes afterwards warmly pronounced a panegyric on Ellen, to which Lady Stock only replied with a vacant, supercilious countenance, “May be so--no doubt--of course--the Elmours are a very respectable family, I’m told--and really more genteel than the country families one sees: but is not it odd, they don’t _mix more?_ One seldom meets them in town any where, or at any of the watering-places in summer.” To this charge, Almeria, with blushes, was forced to plead guilty for her friends: she, however, observed, in mitigation, “that when they were in town, what company they did see was always the best, she believed--that she knew, for one person, the Duchess of A---- was a friend of the Elmours, and corresponded with Ellen.” This judicious defence produced an immediate effect upon Lady Stock’s countenance; her eyebrows descended from the high arch of contempt: and after a pause, she remarked, “it was strange that they had not accepted of any of the invitations she had lately sent them--she fancied they were, as indeed they had the character of being, very proud people--and very odd.” Almeria denied the pride and the oddity; but observed, “that they were all remarkably fond of _home_.” “Well, my dear Miss Turnbull, that’s what I call odd; but I am sure I have nothing to say against all that--it is the fashion now to let every body do as they please: if the Elmours like to bury themselves alive, I’m sure I can’t have the smallest objection; I only hope they don’t insist upon burying you along with them--I’m going to Harrowgate for a few days, and I must have you with me, my dear.” Our heroine hesitated. Lady Stock smiled, and said, she saw Miss Turnbull was terribly afraid of these Elmours; that for her part, she was the last person in the world to break through old connexions; but that really some people ought to consider that other people cannot always live as they do; that one style of life was fit for one style of fortune, and one for another; and that it would look very strange to the world, if an heiress with two hundred thousand pounds fortune, who if she produced herself might be in the first circles in town, were to be boxed up at Elmour Grove, and precluded from all advantages and offers that she might of course expect.