_Miss Ogle._ What I suppose, my Lady, you and Sir George, will be seen pacing it comfortably round the Canal, arm and arm, and then go lovingly into the same carriage;--dine _tête-à-tête_, spend the evening at Picquet, and so go soberly to bed at Eleven!--Such a snug plan may do for an Attorney and his Wife; but, for Lady Frances Touchwood, 'tis as unsuitable as linsey-woolsey, or a black bonnet at the _Festino_! _Lady Fran._ These are rather new doctrines to me!--But, my dear Mrs. Racket, you and Miss Ogle must judge of these things better than I can. As you observe, I am but young, and may have caught absurd opinions.--Here is Sir George! _Enter Sir_ George. _Sir Geo._ (_Aside._) 'Sdeath! another room full! _Lady Fran._ My love! Mrs. Racket, and Miss Ogle. _Mrs. Rack._ Give you joy, Sir George.--We came to rob you of Lady Frances for a few hours. _Sir Geo._ A few hours! _Lady Fran._ Oh, yes! I am going to an Exhibition, and an Auction, and the Park, and Kensington, and a thousand places!--It is quite ridiculous, I find, for married people to be always together--We shall be laughed at! _Sir Geo._ I am astonished!--Mrs. Racket, what does the dear creature mean? _Mrs. Rack._ Mean, Sir George!--what she says, I imagine. _Miss Ogle._ Why, you know, Sir, as Lady Frances had the misfortune to be bred entirely in the Country, she cannot be supposed to be versed in Fashionable Life. _Sir Geo._ No; heaven forbid she should!--If she had, Madam, she would never have been my Wife! _Mrs. Rack._ Are you serious? _Sir Geo._ Perfectly so.--I should never have had the courage to have married a well-bred Fine Lady. _Miss Ogle._ Pray, Sir, what do you take a Fine Lady to be, that you express such fear of her? (_sneeringly._) _Sir Geo._ A being easily described, Madam, as she is seen every where, but in her own house. She sleeps at home, but she lives all over the town. In her mind, every sentiment gives place to the Lust of Conquest, and the vanity of being particular. The feelings of Wife, and Mother, are lost in the whirl of dissipation. If she continues virtuous, 'tis by chance--and if she preserves her Husband from ruin, 'tis by her dexterity at the Card-Table!--Such a Woman I take to be a perfect Fine Lady!