"I almost wish we were going _en masse_, my dear friends, to enjoy your delightful visit to Paris. I almost wish the Bedinfield property was situated on the banks of the Loire, to be able to snatch moments at the French capital. My dear Julia will be so occupied in her new domain, she will not have leisure to sigh for other scenes; and I must bask a while in her happiness, before I can allow myself to imagine I am a dowager, and free to roam about." "Perhaps _we_ will go with you!" exclaimed Isabel, in a moment of excitation, forgetful of Brierly, of her situation, and of her husband's tastes. "Mr. Boscawen, I should so like to go abroad!--Mr. Boscawen, do let us join Tom and Anna Maria!--I should so love to go to a place where I could not speak a word of the language--to see people stare and eat nasty frogs!" "My dear Isabel!" said her husband, pressing his hand upon her shoulder, in token of his wish she should remain silent. "Well, Tom Pynsent said so, Mr. Boscawen! didn't you, Tom?--didn't you say they eat frogs, and snails, and things alive?" Mr. Boscawen never hazarded a reply to provoke fresh rejoinders--he only alluded to Isabel's state of health, which he feared might suffer from late hours, and in a tone of voice, soft, yet decided--a tone which Isabel never dared to resist--he offered his arm, and counselled her to retire for the night. "Another hour for Mrs. Boscawen--let me pray for one hour only," said Mr. Charles Spottiswoode--"this will be our last general meeting!" "My wife's health is of great consequence to her friends," replied Mr. Boscawen, mildly, as Isabel rose in dismay. "I must attend to my wife." "Oh, indeed I am very well in health, Mr. Boscawen, though I am rather heavy to look at. Mrs. Tollemache was much larger than I am, when she danced a reel, wasn't she, Miss Wycherly?" Mr. Boscawen was deaf and dumb, upon principle, whenever Isabel began to converse. He led his wife to her mother, in silence, to pay her retiring compliments, and Christobelle accompanied them in their transit. When Isabel was deposited in her room, Mr. Boscawen began the evening lecture. "Isabel, you shock me to death with your ignorance and indelicacy." "I'm sure I was not indelicate, Mr. Boscawen. You are always finding fault, now I am married to you," sobbed Isabel. "My love, you should not allude to your situation before gentlemen, or name Mrs. Tollemache in that extraordinary way." "Well, I did not know there was any harm, Mr. Boscawen! I declare I wish I was not in any situation at all, for you carry me away from every pleasant amusement, and it makes this place as dull as Brierly." "I am sorry you weep, my love, and find Brierly so dull. I hoped you would be happy here, at least, yet you hurt me by complaining and tears. My dear Isabel, don't be so childish." "Well, I _am_ a child, Mr. Boscawen. I'm only eighteen, next Sunday."