Cit.—How does your ladyship know he does so then?
Lady.—Why, I know he used another lady saucily, because she gave him a great deal of trouble, as he called it, and did not buy.
Cit.—Was it the lady that told you so herself, Madam?
Lady.—I don’t know, really, I have forgot who it was; but I have such a notion in my head, and I don’t care to try, for I hate the sauciness of shopkeepers when they don’t understand themselves.
Cit.—Well; but, Madam, perhaps it may be a mistake—and the lady that told you was not the person neither?
Lady.—Oh, Madam, I remember now who told me; it was my Lady Tattle, when I was at Mrs Whymsy’s on a visiting day; it was the talk of the whole circle, and all the ladies took notice of it, and said they would take care to shun that shop.
Cit.—Sure, Madam, the lady was strangely used; did she tell any of the particulars?
Lady.—No; I did not understand that she told the particulars, for it seems it was not to her, but to some other lady, a friend of hers; but it was all one; the company took as much notice of it as if it had been to her, and resented it as much, I assure you.
Cit.—Yet, and without examining the truth of the fact.
Lady.—We did not doubt the story.
Cit.—But had no other proof of it, Madam, than her relation?
Lady.—Why, that’s true; nobody asked for a proof; it was enough to tell the story.
Cit.—What! though perhaps the lady did not know the person, or whether it was true or no, and perhaps had it from a third or fourth hand—your ladyship knows any body’s credit may be blasted at that rate.
Lady.—We don’t inquire so nicely, you know, into the truth of stories at a tea-table.
Cit.—No, Madam, that’s true; but when reputation is at stake, we should be a little careful too.
Lady.—Why, that’s true too. But why are you so concerned about it, Madam? do you know the man that keeps the shop?
Cit.—No otherwise, Madam, than that I have often bought there, and I always found them the most civil, obliging people in the world.
Lady.—It may be they know you, Madam.
Cit.—I am persuaded they don’t, for I seldom went but I saw new faces, for they have a great many servants and journeymen in the shop.
Lady.—It may be you are easy to be pleased; you are good-humoured yourself, and cannot put their patience to any trial.
Cit.—Indeed, Madam, just the contrary; I believe I made them tumble two or three hundred pounds’ worth of goods one day, and bought nothing; and yet it was all one; they used me as well as if I had laid out twenty pounds.
Lady.—Why, so they ought.
Cit.—Yes, Madam, but then it is a token they do as they ought, and understand themselves.