"Ah!" replied Ritson, "but he may be a man of rank, without being a man of fashion."
"True," lisped Mrs. Dollimore.
"I don't know," replied Smith, with an air of puzzled wonderment, "but he has L7,000. a-year."
"Has he, indeed?" cried Mrs. Dollimore, surprised into her natural tone of voice; and, at that moment, a young lady, ringletted and flowered like herself, joined her, and accosted her by the endearing appellation of "Mamma."
"Have you been dancing, my love?" inquired Mrs. Dollimore.
"Yes, ma; with Captain Johnson."
"Oh," said the mother, with a toss of her head; and giving her daughter a significant push, she walked away with her to another end of the room, to talk about Sir Ralph Rumford, and his seven thousand pounds a-year.
"Well!" thought I, "odd people these; let us enter a little farther into this savage country." In accordance with this reflection, I proceeded towards the middle of the room.
"Who's that?" said Mr. Smith, in a loud whisper, as I passed him.
"'Pon honour," answered Ritson, "I don't know! but he's a deuced neat looking fellow, quite genteel."