MRS. DALE.—"She is very amiable, Jemima, is she not?"
RICCABOCCA.—"Exceedingly so. Very fine battle-piece!"
MRS. DALE.—"So kind-hearted."
RICCABOCCA.—"All ladies are. How naturally that warrior makes his desperate cut at the runaway!"
MRS. DALE.—"She is not what is called regularly handsome, but she has something very winning."
RICCABOCCA (with a smile).—"So winning, that it is strange she is not won. That gray mare in the foreground stands out very boldly!"
MRS. DALE (distrusting the smile of Riccabocca, and throwing in a more effective grape-charge).—"Not won yet; and it is strange! she will have a very pretty fortune."
RICCABOCCA.—"Ah!"
MRS. DALE. "Six thousand pounds, I dare say,—certainly four."
RICCABOCCA (suppressing a sigh, and with his wonted address).—"If Mrs. Dale were still single, she would never need a friend to say what her portion might be; but Miss Jemima is so good that I am quite sure it is not Miss Jemima's fault that she is still—Miss Jemima!"