that must be of all others most afflicting to a parent’s mind.  The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of this.  And it is the more to be lamented because there is reason to suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness of behavior in your daughter has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence; though at the same time, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity at so early an age.  Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied, in which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair.  They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in one daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others; for who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect themselves with such a family?  And this consideration leads me, moreover, to reflect with augmented satisfaction on a certain event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been involved in all your sorrows and disgrace.  Let me advise you, then, my dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off your unworthy child from your affection forever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense.

I am, dear sir, etc., etc.

A WELL-MATCHED SISTER AND BROTHER

From ‘Northanger Abbey’

“My dearest Catherine, have you settled what to wear on your head to-night?  I am determined, at all events, to be dressed exactly like you.  The men take notice of that sometimes, you know.”

“But it does not signify if they do,” said Catherine, very innocently.

“Signify! oh, heavens!  I make it a rule never to mind what they say.  They are very often amazingly impertinent, if you do not treat them with spirit, and make them keep their distance.”

“Are they?  Well I never observed that.  They always behave very well to me.”

“Oh! they give themselves such airs.  They are the most conceited creatures in the world, and think themselves of so much importance!  By the by, though I have thought of it a hundred times, I have always forgot to ask you what is your favorite complexion in a man.  Do you like them best dark or fair?”

“I hardly know.  I never much thought about it.  Something between both, I think—­brown:  not fair, and not very dark.”

“Very well, Catherine.  That is exactly he.  I have not forgot your description of Mr. Tilney:  ’a brown skin, with dark eyes, and rather dark hair.’  Well, my taste is different.  I prefer light eyes; and as to complexion, do you know, I like a sallow better than any other.  You must not betray me, if you should ever meet with one of your acquaintance answering that description.”