“O! to be sure,” cries Mrs. Ellison; “All for Love, or the World well Lost, is a motto very proper for some folks to wear in their coat of arms; but the generality of the world will, I believe, agree with that lady’s opinion of my cousin, rather than with Mrs. Bennet.”
Mrs. Bennet, seeing Mrs. Ellison took offence at what she said, thought proper to make some apology, which was very readily accepted, and so ended the visit.
We cannot however put an end to the chapter without observing that such is the ambitious temper of beauty, that it may always apply to itself that celebrated passage in Lucan,
Nec quenquam jam ferre potest Caesarve priorem, Pompeiusve parem.
Indeed, I believe, it may be laid down as a general rule, that no woman who hath any great pretensions to admiration is ever well pleased in a company where she perceives herself to fill only the second place. This observation, however, I humbly submit to the judgment of the ladies, and hope it will be considered as retracted by me if they shall dissent from my opinion.
Chapter iv. — Containing matters that require no preface.
When Booth and his wife were left alone together they both extremely exulted in their good fortune in having found so good a friend as his lordship; nor were they wanting in very warm expressions of gratitude towards Mrs. Ellison. After which they began to lay down schemes of living when Booth should have his commission of captain; and, after the exactest computation, concluded that, with economy, they should be able to save at least fifty pounds a-year out of their income in order to pay their debts.
These matters being well settled, Amelia asked Booth what he thought of Mrs. Bennet? “I think, my dear,” answered Booth, “that she hath been formerly a very pretty woman.” “I am mistaken,” replied she, “if she be not a very good creature. I don’t know I ever took such a liking to any one on so short an acquaintance. I fancy she hath been a very spritely woman; for, if you observe, she discovers by starts a great vivacity in her countenance.” “I made the same observation,” cries Booth: “sure some strange misfortune hath befallen her.” “A misfortune, indeed!” answered Amelia; “sure, child, you forget what Mrs. Ellison told us, that she had lost a beloved husband. A misfortune which I have often wondered at any woman’s surviving.” At which words she cast a tender look at Booth, and presently afterwards, throwing herself upon his neck, cried, “O, Heavens! what a happy creature am I! when I consider the dangers you have gone through, how I exult in my bliss!” The good-natured reader will suppose that Booth was not deficient in returning such tenderness, after which the conversation became too fond to be here related.