“In the first place,” said she, “let me assure you, that I rejoice in this marriage: I think your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, is every way deserving of my friend Miss Broadhurst; and this from me,” said she, smiling, “is no slight eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress of their attachment; and it has been founded on the perception of such excellent qualities on each side, that I have no fear for its permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl’s honourable conduct in paying his father’s debts, and his generosity to his mother and sisters, whose fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my friend. It was like what she would have done herself, and like--in short, it is what few young men, as she said, of the present day would do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he felt to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of fashionable young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a very different impression on Miss Broadhurst’s mind; her esteem and admiration were excited by these proofs of strength of character, and of just and good principles.” “If you go on you will make me envious and jealous of my friend,” said Lord Colambre. “You jealous!--Oh, it is too late now--besides, you cannot be jealous, for you never loved.” “I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge.” “There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you--he loved, and my friend saw it.” “She was clear-sighted,” said Lord Colambre. “She was clear-sighted,” repeated Miss Nugent; “but if you mean that she was vain, and apt to fancy people in love with her, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Never was woman, young or old, more clear-sighted to the views of those by whom she was addressed. No flattery, no fashion, could blind her judgment.” “She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure,” said Lord Colambre. “And a friend for life, too, I am sure you will allow--and she had such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might have puzzled the choice and turned the brain of any inferior person. Such a succession of lovers as she has had this summer, ever since you went to Ireland--they appeared and vanished like figures in a magic lantern. She had three noble admirers--rank in three different forms offered themselves First came in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank and gaming; then rank, very high rank, over head and ears in debt. All of these were rejected; and, as they moved off, I thought Mrs. Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next came fashion, with his head, heart, and soul in his cravat--he quickly made his bow, or rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of snuff. Then came a man of wit--but it was wit without worth; and presently came ‘worth without wit.’ She preferred ‘wit and worth united,’ which she fortunately at last found, Lord Colambre, in your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl.”