‘If you consider that dining constitutes being out, I generally am,’ said Elizabeth, rather coldly and haughtily.

‘Ay, ay,’ cried Harriet, laughing, ’you would be out indeed, to go without your dinner.—­Capital, is not it, Kate? but I wanted to know whether you are regularly come out?’

‘I do not know,’ replied Elizabeth.

‘Oh, then, you are not,’ said Harriet; ’everyone knows who is out:  I should not have been out now, if it had not been for Frank Hollis, (he is senior lieutenant at last, you know)—­well, when our officers gave the grand ball at Hull, Frank Hollis came to Mamma, and said they could do nothing without the Major’s daughter, and I must open the ball.  Such nonsense he talked—­didn’t he, Lucy?  Well, Mamma gave way, and said she’d persuade the Major.  Papa was rather grumpy at first, you know, Lucy, but we coaxed him over at last.  Oh, it was such fun!  I danced first with Frank Hollis—­just out of gratitude, you know, and then with Captain Murphy, and then—­O Lucy, do you remember who?—­and I had a silk dress which Mamma brought from India, trimmed just like yours, Miss Merton, only with four rows of lace, because I am taller, you know, and a berthe of—­’

Elizabeth could endure this no longer, and broke in, ’And pray, Harriet, did you learn the book of fashions by heart?’

‘Not quite,’ said Harriet, with provoking obtuseness, or good humour; ’I did very nearly, though, when I was making my dress.  Now, Lizzie, do not you wish you were out?’

‘No, not in the least,’ said Elizabeth, by this time quite out of patience; ’I think society a nuisance, and I am glad to be free of it as long as I can.’

‘Lizzie,’ said Helen gravely, ‘you are talking rhodomontade.’

‘By no means, Helen,’ said Elizabeth; ’it is my serious opinion, that, unless you can find real friends, minds that suit you, you should keep to yourself, and let bores and geese keep to themselves.’

’Becoming yourself one of the interesting tribe of bears, or perhaps of crabs,’ whispered Anne.

‘Well, what an odd girl you are!’ cried Harriet; ‘well, if ever—!’

’But, Lizzie, what would become of the world if there was no society?’ said Katherine.

‘And, Lizzie,’ began Helen, very seriously, ’do not you know that it is a duty to take part in society, that—­’

‘Oh yes, Helen!’ answered Elizabeth; ’I know all that books and wise people say; but what I say is this:  if a sumptuary law could decree that wits should be measured by one standard, like the ruffs and rapiers in Queen Elizabeth’s time, so that those found wanting might be banished, there might be some use in meeting people; but in the present state of things there is none.’

‘But how would you choose your standard?’ said Anne; ’everyone would take their own degree of sense as a measure.’

‘Let them,’ said Elizabeth; ’there would be a set of measures like the bolters in a mill, one for the pastry-flour, one for the bread-flour, one for the blues, one for the bran.’