'Well, that beautiful creature is Colonel Cubbon's, and so is that.' 'And the dark gray, whose is that?' 'Oh, that is Anatomy. Well, he's a handsome fellow, too, but in too good condition for such a name.' 'Whose horse is he?' 'He belongs to General Mrs. H.' 'Oh, really,' said the lady, 'what an odd name! But, no; it isn't. Nothing could be more appropriate for Anna Tommy.' 'Well done, Emma!' said her escort; 'that's capital. Isn't that good, Colonel Williamson?' 'What?' said the Colonel; 'I didn't hear.' Mrs. D.'s _bon mot_ was repeated, and all who heard it applauded loudly. 'On my word,' said Colonel W., 'Mrs. D., you're a monopolist. The ladies say you have more good looks than should fall to any one person's share, and not content with that, you throw all your friends into the shade by your wit.' 'I'm _sure_,' replied Mrs. D., 'the ladies didn't say that; you say it for them. It would be only too delightful if it were true.' 'It is quite true, Mrs. D.; two delightful things are wit and beauty.' 'Oh yes; quite true if one possessed them.' 'Come, come, you're not going to outface me in that way,' said Colonel W., 'with such proofs before my eyes and in my ears.' 'Oh,' said Mrs. O., in a half whisper to Mrs. C, 'she has brass enough to outface old Nick himself; anyone with half an eye could see what she is, only these men, especially old ones, are such unutterable fools.' Mrs. D. probably heard something and guessed more, for she leaned back in her chair and laughed heartily; then, casting an expressive glance towards Mrs. O., she said: 'Who is it, Frank, that says, "The highest compliment one woman can pay another is when the one exhibits malignity and envy towards the other"--who is it?' 'I fancy,' returned Frank, 'you mean that clever sample of female vanity, Madame de Staël. But how did you make acquaintance with her? I thought you didn't care for that sort of thing.' 'I do read sometimes, Frank.' 'Yes, I know you do; I caught you reading the "Bride of Abydos" the other day.' 'Yes; I do read Byron, and have the honesty and courage to admit that I do; others read, and deny that they do so. But I'm not going to fight with you now; this isn't the right time or place, sir. But I'm in high spirits this morning, and I ought to be, for I have won high compliments from Colonel Williamson--he who never speaks of our poor sex without bringing up all our transgressions, from that little mistake our unhappy great-grandmother made to the various errors, _faux pas_, or misdemeanours attaching to Madame de Maintenon or the Marchioness of H.'