“In what is called society, you sacrifice your liberty, you lose your own individuality,” said Amy, taking up the theme in a manner that she knew would be highly pleasing to Lord Verner, for she had an ample knowledge of his whims and peculiarities, and she was bent upon playing her new part in the most effective manner possible. “Hear, hear!--admirably well illustrated!” said Earl Verner. “In the country one is not bored with all the trumpery little gossip of town. The news gets fairly sifted before it reaches us, as Gibbon, I think, somewhere says. We are the lookers-on, and we can rest or give up when we cease to be interested. In society, as you say, we are mixed up in the throng, we are part of all that is going on, we must be interested in all the frivolous nonsense. O, no, nothing like the country, and especially when you can occupy the mind.” From this topic, in which Phœbe took great interest, the Earl glided into more lively subjects, and talked of pictures and new books; and he was surprised at the smartness and learning evinced in some of Miss Somerton’s replies. She seemed to know a little of everything, and to express herself with such charming deference to his lordship’s greater wisdom, that Earl Verner was quite delighted. He was not bored a bit; he had never before been in the society of women, who knew anything about books, without being bored; he hated women who were at all clever as a rule; but there was an unaffected modesty, a charming _naïveté_ about this lady’s manner, which left its fascinating spirit upon Lord Verner long after he had left Barton Hall. Who could she be, this splendid specimen of common sense and beauty? When he had fairly left the house, Miss Somerton made a curtsey to herself in a mirror, and said, “_Très bonne, Mademoiselle_, your acting is really most natural.” Then turning round upon Phœbe, who was gazing at her friend with an expression of the most profound astonishment, she said:-- “Pray forgive me, Miss Tallant; you won’t cast me off for trying to outshine you this morning? You will not show me the door because I am only a bailiff’s daughter, and not rich?” Amy’s sarcasm astonished Phœbe more than her previously extraordinary manner had done, and she could only think that poor Amy was not quite right in her mind. “You surely cannot be in your right senses, Amy?” said Miss Tallant. “Oh yes I am, dear. I was a poor foolish creature once; but I am going to appear in a new character in future. I will tell you all about it, like a dutiful companion and bailiff’s daughter, if you will not denounce me.” “I fail to understand you, Amy,” said Phœbe, a little piqued at this undeserved reference to their relative positions.