“But, my dear Mrs. Oxley,” said her ladyship, interrupting her, and placing her hand gently upon her arm, as if to solicit her consent to the observation she was about to make, “you know, my dear Mrs. Oxley, that the daughter of a mere country squire can have no pretensions to come under the definition of high life.” “Wy not?” replied Mrs. Oxley; “the squires are often wealthier than the haris-tocracy; and I don't at all see,” she added, “wy the daughter of such a man should not be considered as moving in 'igh life--always, of course, provided that she forms no disgraceful attachments to Papists and rebels and low persons of that 'ere class. No, my lady, I don't at all agree with you in your view of 'igh life.” “You don't appear, madam, to entertain a sufficiently accurate estimate of high life. “I beg pardon, ma'am, but I think I can understand 'igh life as well as those that don't know it better nor myself. I've seen a great deal of 'igh life. Feyther 'ad a willar at I'gate, and I'gate is known to be the 'igh-est place about the metropolis of Lunnon--it and St. Paul's are upon a bevel.” “Level, perhaps, you mean, ma'am?” “Level or bevel, it doesn't much diversify--but I prefer the bevel to the level on all occasions. All I knows is,” she proceeded, “that it is a shame for any young lady, as is a young lady, to take a liking to a Papist, because we know the Papists are all rebel; and would cut our throats, only for the protection of our generous and merciful laws.” “I don't know what you mean by merciful laws,” observed Mrs. Brown. “They surely cannot be such laws as oppress and persecute a portion of the people, and give an unjust license to one class to persecute another, and to prevent them from exercising the duties which their religion imposes upon them.” “Well,” said Lady Joram, “all I wish is, that the Papists were exterminated; we should then have no apprehensions that our daughters would disgrace themselves, by falling in love with them.” This conversation was absolutely cruel, and the amiable Mrs. Brown, from compassion to Helen, withdrew her into a corner of the room, and entered into conversation with her upon a different topic, assuring her previously that she would detail their offensive and ungenerous remarks to her father, who, she trusted, would never see them under his roof again, nor give them an opportunity of indulging in their vulgar malignity a second time. Helen thanked her, and said their hints and observations, though rude and ungenerous, gave her but little pain. The form of language in which they were expressed, she added, and the indefensible violation of all the laws of hospitality, blunted the severity of what they said.