“Trench journalists, and newspaper writers of any country, are of course the very best judges of manners and morals,” said the old gentleman, with a smile; “the other three estates are more than usually fallible; the fourth is the nearest approach to perfection which we can find in man.” “Sir,” said Mr Endicott, “in my country we can do without Queen, Lords, and Commons; but we cannot do without the Press--that is, the exponent of every man’s mind and character, the legitimate vehicle of instructive experiences. The Press, sir, is Progress--the only effective agency ever invented for the perfection of the human race.” “Oh, I am sure I quite agree with you. I am quite in love with the newspapers; they do make one so delightfully out of humour,” said Mrs Edgerley, suddenly making her appearance; “and really, you know, when they speak of society, it is quite charming--so absurd! Sir Langham Portland--Miss Atheling. I have been so longing to come to you. Oh, and you must know Mr Agar. Mr Agar, I want to introduce you to my charming young friend, the author of _Hope Hazlewood_; is it not wonderful? I was sure you, who are so fond of people of genius, would be pleased to know her. And there is dear Lady Theodosia, but she is so surrounded. You must come to the Willows--you must indeed; I positively insist upon it. For what can one do in an evening? and so many of my friends want to know you. We go down in a fortnight. I shall certainly calculate upon you. Oh, I never take a refusal; it was _so_ kind of you to come to-night.”