'Happy!' cried he, laughing. 'Have you really never heard of their notorious miffs? Why it was but yesterday that she flogged him with a boiled leg of mutton, because he had sent home no turnips.' 'Astonishment!' exclaimed I. 'And she, when a girl, so meek.' 'Ay, there it is,' said he. 'One has never seen a white foal or a cross girl; but often white horses and cross wives. Let me advise you against white horses.' 'But pray,' said I, addressing Amanda, 'is not your brother Oscar happy with his Adela?' 'Alas, no,' cried she. 'Oscar became infatuated with the charms of Evelina's old governess, Madam Duval; so poor Adela absconded; and she, who was once the soul of mirth, has now grown a confirmed methodist; curls a sacred sneer at gaiety, loves canting and decanting, piety and _eau de vie_. In short, the devil is very busy about her, though she sometimes drives him away with a thump of the Bible.' 'Well, Rosa, the gentle beggar-girl,--what of her?' said I. 'Eloped with one Corporal Trim,' answered Sir Charles. 'How shocking!' cried I. 'But Pamela, the virtuous Pamela?'---- 'Made somewhat a better choice,' said Sir Charles; 'for she ran off with Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, when he returned to the happy valley.' 'Dreadful accounts, indeed!' said I. 'So dreadful,' said Sir Charles, bowing over my hand, 'that I trust they will determine you to marry Montmorenci. 'Tis true, he has lost two teeth, and you do not love him; but was not Walstein a cripple? And did not Caroline of Lichfield fall in love with him after their marriage, though she had hated him before it?' 'Recollect,' cried Cecilia, 'what perils environ you here. The baron is the first murderer of the age.' 'Look at yonder blood,' cried old Mortimer Delville. 'Remember the bandit last night,' cried old Lord Mortimer. 'Think of the tremendous spectre that haunts this apartment,' cried Lady Grandison. 'And above all,' cried the Lady Sympathina, 'bear in mind that this chamber may be the means of your waking some morning with a face like a pumpkin.' 'Heavens!' exclaimed I, 'what do you mean? My face like a pumpkin?' 'Yes,' said she. 'The dampness of the room would swell it up like a pumpkin in a single night.' 'Oh! ladies and gentlemen,' cried I, dropping on my knees, 'you see what shocking horrors surround me here. Oh! let me beseech of you to pity and to rescue me. Surely, surely you might aid me in escaping!' 'It is out of the nature of possibilities,' said Lady Sympathina. 'At least, then,' cried I, 'you might use your influence to have me removed from this vile room, that feels like a well.'