"_Vraiment_," exclaimed the Comtesse Leinsengen, as she entered the drawing-rooms, "I do tink, as we are de deities of dis fête, ces messieurs might for once have broken through dere abominable customs, and accompanied us; but dat terrible Lord Somerton and dat young milor Tonnerre would tink, I suppose, de constitution in danger, if dey did not remain at de table after de ladies.--I vonder, Miladi Baskerville, comme Milor est votre éléve, dat you do not teach him better." "Dear Comtesse, not I, I assure you--it is quite enough to take care of one's-self; I never interfere with other people's affairs--nothing would induce me to undertake any body's education." "I believe you are very wise," said Lady Boileau; "the _laissez faire_ and the _laissez aller_ is the best rule." "I do not quite agree with you in that," said Lady Tilney; "how could we have a pleasant or a distinguished society if that system was allowed to prevail? how could we--" "La! what sinifies dat?" said the Comtesse Leinsengen, as she arranged her _bérin_ at the glass; "_Vos milliners ne valent rien_--I have just sent to Paris, and then I shall have a _coiffure_ that will not be so hideous." "Did you observe the Duchesse D'Hermanton's last dress?" asked Lady Baskerville; "she did think it was perfection; one feather on the top of another, flower upon flower, flounce upon flounce, jewel upon jewel, till she was one mass of moving millinery--I never saw such a figure since the days of Lady Aveling's ambassadress' glory." "Vat sinifie vat dose women do? D'ailleurs les Angloises ont toujours singé les modes." In this, and similar conversation, passed the hour of separation in the drawing-rooms, while at the dinner-table the subject of discussion possessed as little interest as is generally found in society so constituted. "Baskerville, Boileau, Gascoigne," said Sir William Temple, as he resumed his chair after the departure of the ladies, "will you not come up, and in the short absence we are doomed to suffer from our fair companions, let us find comfort in this poor earthly Nectar?" (Sir William believed his wines to be the best in creation.) "Baskerville, what wine do you take?" "Claret," was the reply of the latter, accompanied by a look of surprise which seemed to say, "of course."--"Did you ever hear such a question!" he added in an under-tone to Lord Boileau. "Never--he might as well have asked if one would try Chambertin after _Truites à l'Aurore_, or _Clos de Voguet_ after _Bécasses à la Luculle_!" rejoined Lord Baskerville. "Fools were made for jests to men of sense," whispered Spencer Newcomb, "and I know of no one who affords more amusement than my friend there, Sir William." "How officious and _affairé_ he was in contriving this party," said Lord Gascoigne. "And how puzzled, lame, and lost in prosecuting it!" rejoined the other. "He is a most substantial ass," said Lord Baskerville.