What think you, said his Lordship it is to the young folks that I address myself, of seeing before you a couple who that day has been married twenty years, and never frown’d on one another?

Think! said Lord Darcey, it is very possible.

Possible it certainly is, reply’d Lady Powis; but very few instances, I believe—­

What say you, Miss Warley? ask’d his Lordship:  you find Lord Darcey supposes it very possible.—­Good God!  I thought I should have sunk:  it was not so much the question, as the manner he express’d it in.  I felt as if my face was stuck full of needles:  however, I stifled my confusion, and reply’d, I was quite of Lady Powis’s opinion.

Well, what say you, Miss Winter?

How I rejoiced!  I declare I could hardly contain my joy, when he address’d himself to her.

What say I, my Lord? return’d she; why, truly, I think it must be your own faults, if you are not treated civilly.—­The Devil! cry’d he.

O fie!  O fie! my Lord, squeaked my left hand neighbour.—­And why O fie! retorted his Lordship:  Is civility all we have to expect?

We can claim nothing else said the squeaker.—­If the dear creatures condescend to esteem us, we ought to consider it a particular indulgence.

And so, Miss Warley, cry’d Lord Allen, we are only to be esteemed now-a-days.  I thank God my good woman has imbibed none of those modern notions.  Her actions have convinced the world of that long ago.

Poh! my Lord, said Lady Allen, we are old-fashion’d people:—­you must not talk thus before Gentlemen and Ladies bred in the present age.

Come, come, let me hear Lord Darcey speak to this point, continued his Lordship.  He is soon to be one of us;—­we shall shortly, I am told, salute him Benedick.

On this Sir James threw down his knife and fork with emotion, crying, This is news, indeed!  This is what I never heard before!  Upon my word, your Lordship has been very secret! looking full at Lord Darcey.  But you are of age, my Lord, so I have no right to be consulted; however, I should be glad to know, who it is that runs away with your heart.  This was spoke half in jest, half in earnest.

In a moment my neck and face were all over crimson.—­I felt the colour rise;—­it was not to be suppress’d.—­I drew my handkerchief from my pocket;—­held it to my face;—­hemm’d;—­call’d for wine and water;—­which, when brought, I could scarcely swallow; spoke in a low voice to Miss Winter;—­said she had a poor stomach, or something like it.

Lord Darcey too was confus’d.—­Why did I look up to him?—­He was pale, instead of red.—­I saw his lips move, but could not hear what he said for more than a minute; occasion’d by an uncommon noise which just then rush’d through my head:—­at length sounds grew distinct, and I heard this sentence—­every word is inscribed where it can never be erazed—­