"I said," interrupted Nancy, "that it was the cruellest slander. You are all good-nature. Stand up, Kitty dear. Now tell us, Miss Peggy, before all these gentlemen, do those eyes squint?" "Certainly not," said poor Peggy, in great confusion. "Look at them well," continued Nancy. "Brown eyes, full and clear--eyes like an antelope. Saw any one eyes more straight!" "Never," said Peggy, fanning herself violently. "Or more beautiful eyes?" "Never," replied Miss Peggy. "There," said Nancy, "I knew it. I said that from the lips of Miss Peggy Baker nothing but kind words can fall. You hear, gentlemen; women are sometimes found who can say good things of each other: and if we find the malicious person who dared report that Miss Peggy Baker said such a thing, I hope you will duck her in the horse-pond." Miss Peggy bowed to us with her most languishing air, and passed on. Nancy held up her hands, while the gentlemen looked at one another and laughed. "Oh, calumny!" she cried. "To say that Kitty's eyes were askew!" For there had been a discussion at the book-shop that morning, in which the name of Miss Pleydell was frequently mentioned; and her person, bearing, and face were all particularly dwelt upon. Miss Baker, as usual in their parliaments, spoke oftenest, and with the most animation. She possessed, on such occasions, an insight into the defects of women that was truly remarkable, and a power of representing them to others which, while it was eloquent and persuasive, perhaps erred on the side of exaggeration. She summed up what she had to say in these kind words-- "After all, one could forgive fine clothes worn as if the girl had never had a dress on fit to be seen before, and manners like a hoyden trying to seem a nun, and the way of dancing taught to the cits who go to Sadler's Wells, and a sunburnt complexion, and hands as big as my fan--all these things are rustic, and might be cured--or endured. But I cannot forgive her squint!" And now she had to recant publicly, and confess that there was no squint at all. This audacious trick of Nancy's was, you may be sure, immediately spread abroad, so that for that day at least the unfortunate creature found the people looking after and laughing wherever she went. Naturally, she hated me, who really had done her no harm at all, more and more.