“No, Mr. B. Did she go my way?  I told you I would keep the great road.”—­“Lady Jenny C.,” said Mr. B., presenting me to his uncle.  “A charming creature!” added he:  “Have you not a son worthy of such an alliance?”—­“Ay, nephew, this is a lady indeed!  Why the plague,” whispered he, “could you not have pitched your tent here?  Miss, by your leave,” and saluting me, turned to the countess.  “Madam, you’ve a charming daughter!  Had my rash nephew seen this lovely creature, and you condescended, he’d never have stooped to the cottage as he has done.”—­“You’re right, Sir Jacob,” said Mr. B.; “but I always ran too fast for my fortune:  yet these ladies of family never bring out their jewels into bachelors’ company; and when, too late, we see what we’ve missed, we are vexed at our precipitation.”

“Well said, however, boy.  I wish thee repentance, though ’tis out of thy power to mend.  Be that one of thy curses, when thou seest this lady; as no doubt it is.”  Again surveying me from head to foot, and turning me round, which, it seems, is a mighty practice with him to a stranger lady, (and a modest one too, you’ll say, Miss)—­“Why, truly, you’re a charming creature, Miss—­Lady Jenny I would say—­By your leave, once more!—­My Lady Countess, she is a charmer!  But—­but—­” staring at me, “Are you married, Madam?” I looked a little silly; and my new mamma came up to me, and took my hand:  “Why, Jenny, you are dressed oddly to-day!—­What a hoop you wear; it makes you look I can’t tell how!”

“Madam, I thought so; what signifies lying?—­But ’tis only the hoop, I see—­Really, Lady Jenny, your hoop is enough to make half a hundred of our sex despair, lest you should be married.  I thought it was something!  Few ladies escape my notice.  I always kept a good look-out; for I have two daughters of my own.  But ’tis the hoop, I see plainly enough.  You are so slender every where but here,” putting his hand upon my hip which quite dashed me; and I retired behind my Lady Countess’s chair.

“Fie, Sir Jacob!” said Mr. B.; “before us young gentlemen, to take such liberties with a maiden lady!  You give a bad example.”—­“Hang him that sets you a bad example, nephew.  But I see you’re right; I see Lady Jenny’s a maiden lady, or she would not have been so shamefaced.  I’ll swear for her on occasion.  Ha, ha, ha!—­I’m sure,” repeated he, “she’s a maiden—­For our sex give the married ladies a freer air in a trice.”—­“How, Sir Jacob!” said Lady Davers.

“O fie!” said the countess.  “Can’t you praise the maiden ladies, but at the expense of the married ones!  What do you see of freedom in me?”—­“Or in me?” said Lady Davers.  “Nay, for that matter you are very well, I must needs say.  But will you pretend to blush with that virgin rose?—­Od’s my life, Miss—­Lady Jenny I would say, come from behind your mamma’s chair, and you two ladies stand up now together.  There, so you do—­Why now, blush for blush, and Lady Jenny shall be three