_Mrs. Talb._ Now tell me honestly, my Louisa—You were, a few days ago, at Bursal House. Since you have left it and have felt something of the difference that is made in this world between splendour and no splendour, you have never regretted that you did not stay there, and that you did not bear more patiently with Miss Bursal’s little airs? _Louisa_. Never for a moment. At first Miss Bursal paid me a vast deal of attention; but, for what reason I know not, she suddenly changed her manner, grew first strangely cold, then condescendingly familiar, and at last downright rude. I could not guess the cause of these variations. _Mrs. Talb._ (_aside_) I guess the cause too well. _Louisa_. But as I perceived the lady was out of tune, I was in haste to leave her. I should make a very bad, and, I am sure, a miserable toad eater. I had much rather, if I were obliged to choose, earn my own bread, than live as toad eater with anybody. _Mrs. Talb._ Fine talking, dear Louisa! _Louisa_. Don’t you believe me to be in earnest, mother! To be sure, you cannot know what I would do, unless I were put to the trial. _Mrs. Talb._ Nor you either, my dear. (_She sighs_, _and is silent_.) _Louisa_ (_takes her mother’s hand_). What is the matter, dear mother? You used to say, that seeing my brother always made you feel ten years younger; yet even while he was here, you had, in spite of all your efforts to conceal them, those sudden fits of sadness. _Mrs. Talb._ The Montem—is not it to-morrow? Ay, but my boy is not sure of being captain. _Louisa_. No; there is one Wheeler, who, as he says, is most likely to be chosen captain. He has taken prodigious pains to flatter and win over many to his interest. My brother does not so much care about it; he is not avaricious. _Mrs. Talb._ I love your generous spirit and his! but, alas! my dear, people may live to want, and wish for money, without being avaricious. I would not say a word to Talbot; full of spirits as he was this morning, I would not say a word to him, till after the Montem, of what has happened. _Louisa_. And what has happened, dear mother? Sit down,—you tremble. _Mrs. Talb._ (_sits down and puts a letter into Louisa’s hand_.) Read that, love. A messenger brought me that from town a few hours ago. _Louisa_ (_reads_). “By an express from Portsmouth, we hear the _Bombay Castle_ East Indiaman is lost, with all your fortune on board.” _All_! I hope there is something left for you to live upon. _Mrs. Talb._ About 150 pounds a year for us all. _Louisa_. That is enough, is it not, for _you_? _Mrs. Talb._ For me, love? I am an old woman, and want but little in this world, and shall be soon out of it. _Louisa_ (_kneels down beside her_). Do not speak so, dearest mother. _Mrs. Talb._ Enough for me, love! Yes, enough, and too much for me. I am not thinking of myself.