“O Sir, as to that,” answered he, “you must allow me to judge; for though I pay all deference to your opinion-in other things-yet I hope you will grant-and I appeal to your Lordship also-that I am not totally despicable as a judge of good or ill-manners.”
“I was so wholly ignorant,” said Lord Orville, gravely, “of the provocation you might have had, that I could not but be surprised at your singular resentment.”
“It was far from my intention,” answered he, “to offend your lordship; but, really, for a person who is nobody, to give herself such airs,-I own I could not command my passion. For, my Lord, though I have made diligent inquiry-I cannot learn who she is.”
“By what I can make out,” cried my defender, “she must be a country parson’s daughter.”
“He! he! he! very good, ‘pon honour!” cried the fop;-“well, so I could have sworn by her manners.”
And then, delighted at his own wit, he laughed, and went away, as I suppose, to repeat it.
“But what the deuce is all this?” demanded the other.
“Why a very foolish affair,” answered Lord Orville; “your Helen first refused this coxcomb, and then-danced with me. This is all I can gather of it.”
“O, Orville,” returned he, “you are a happy man!-But ill-bred? -I can never believe it! And she looks too sensible to be ignorant.”
“Whether ignorant or mischievous, I will not pretend to determine; but certain it is, she attended to all I could say to her, though I have really fatigued myself with fruitless endeavours to entertain her, with the most immovable gravity; but no sooner did Lovel begin his complaint, than she was seized with a fit of laughing, first affronting the poor beau, and then enjoying his mortification.”