“Well! I, for my part, never could see much use in giving up to one’s feelings. It is all very well for commoners,” rather rudely exclaimed the Marchioness’ Toadey; “but we did not choose to expose ourselves to the servants when the old General died this year. Everything went on as usual. Her Ladyship attended Almack’s; my Lord took his seat in the House; and I looked in at Lady Doubtful’s where we do not visit, but where the Marchioness wishes to be civil.” “We do not visit Lady Doubtful either,” replied Miss Gusset: “she had not a card for our fête champêtre. I was so sorry you were not in town. It was so delightful!” “Do tell me who was there? I quite long to know all about it. I saw some account of it. Everything seemed to go off so well. Do tell me who was there?” “Oh! there was plenty of Royalty at the head of the list. Really I cannot go into particulars, but everybody was there who is anybody; eh! Dr. Sly?” “Certainly, madam. The pines were most admirable. There are few people for whom I entertain a higher esteem, than Mr. Gunter.” “The Marchioness seems very fond of her parrot, Miss Graves; but she is a sweet woman!” “Oh, a dear, amiable creature! but I cannot think how she can bear the eternal screaming of that noisy bird.” “Nor I, indeed. Well, thank goodness, Mrs. Million has no pets; eh! Dr. Sly?” “Certainly. I am clearly of opinion that it cannot be wholesome to have so many animals about a house. Besides which, I have noticed that the Marchioness always selects the nicest morsels for that little poodle; and I am also clearly of opinion, Miss Graves, that the fit it had the other day arose from repletion.” “I have no doubt of it in the world. She consumes three pounds of arrowroot weekly and two pounds of the finest loaf sugar, which I have the trouble of grating every Monday morning. Mrs. Million appears to be a most amiable woman, Miss Gusset?” “Quite perfection; so charitable, so intellectual, such a soul! It is a pity, though, her manner is so abrupt; she really does not appear to advantage sometimes; eh! Dr. Sly?” The Toadey’s Toadey bowed assent as usual. “Well,” rejoined Miss Graves, “that is rather a fault of the dear Marchioness, a little want of consideration for another’s feelings; but she means nothing.” “Oh, no! nor Mrs. Million, dear creature! She means nothing; though I dare say, not knowing her so well as we do; eh! Dr. Sly? you were a little surprised at the way in which she spoke to me at dinner.” “All people have their oddities, Miss Gusset. I am sure the Marchioness is not aware how she tries my patience about that little wretch Julie. I had to rub her with warm flannels for an hour and a half before the fire this morning; that is that Vivian Grey’s doing.” “Who is this Mr. Grey, Miss Graves?”