At the first reading of this note, “the entertaining” Mr. Frederick, and the “charming” Miss Marianne laughed heartily, and looked at Sophy, as if they were afraid that she should think it possible they could like such gross flattery; but upon a second perusal, Marianne observed that it certainly was very good-natured of Mrs. Theresa to remember the macaroons; and Frederick allowed that it was wrong to laugh at the poor woman because she had the headache. Then twisting the note in his fingers, he appealed to Sophy:— “Well, Sophy, leave off drawing for an instant,” said Frederick, “and tell us what answer can we send?” “Can!—we can send what answer we please.” “Yes, I know that,” said Frederick. “I would refuse if I could; but we ought not to do anything rude, should we? So I think we might as well go, because we could not refuse, if we would, I say.” “You have made such confusion,” replied Sophy, “between ‘couldn’t’ and ‘wouldn’t’ and ‘shouldn’t,’ that I can’t understand you; surely they are all different things.” “Different! no,” cried Frederick—“could, would, should, might, and ought, are all the same thing in the Latin grammar; all of ’em signs of the potential mood, you know.” Sophy, whose powers of reasoning were not to be confounded, even by quotations from the Latin grammar, looked up soberly from her drawing, and answered “that very likely those words might be signs of the same thing in the Latin grammar, but she believed that they meant perfectly different things in real life.” “That’s just as people please,” said her sophistical brother. “You know words mean nothing in themselves. If I choose to call my hat my cadwallader, you would understand me just as well, after I had once explained it to you, that by cadwallader I meant this black thing that I put upon my head; cadwallader and hat would then be just the same thing to you.” “Then why have two words for the same thing?” said Sophy; “and what has this to do with ‘could’ and ‘should’? You wanted to prove—” “I wanted to prove,” interrupted Frederick, “that it’s not worth while to dispute for two hours about two words. Do keep to the point, Sophy, and don’t dispute with me.” “I was not disputing, I was reasoning.” “Well, reasoning or disputing. Women have no business to do either; for, how should they know how to chop logic like men?” At this contemptuous sarcasm upon her sex, Sophy’s colour rose. “There!” cried Frederick, exulting, “now we shall see a philosopheress in a passion; I’d give sixpence, half-price, for a harlequin entertainment, to see Sophy in a passion. Now, Marianne, look at her brush dabbing so fast in the water!” Sophy, who could not easily bear to be laughed at, with some little indignation, said, “Brother, I wish—” “There! there!” cried Frederick, pointing to the colour which rose in her cheeks almost to her temples—“rising! rising! rising! look at the thermometer! blood heat! blood! fever heat! boiling water heat! Marianne.”