"Pray does Lord Wellesley make his love too, as well as his reputation, by proxy?"
"I do not know," answered Fanny, laughing, "although, I believe he passed a good deal of his time formerly with the lady they call Mrs. Moll Raffles," as Fanny designated her in her zeal to be civil.
"I never saw anybody in such spirits as you to-day," Fanny remarked to me, when we got into the carriage. "I am afraid there is some mischief in the wind. What has become of Lord Ponsonby?"
I was too happy to talk about it, so I contrived to change the subject. "Where shall I take you to?" I inquired.
"To Julia's, where I am now settled. I went there yesterday," was Fanny's answer.
"This world is really made to be laughed at," said Fanny, suddenly leaning her head out of the carriage window.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"That man," said Fanny, "with his grave face and his large board, hoisted up, standing there, challenging the world, as if he were Don Quixote come to life again."
"What for?" said I.