Mrs. Blandish. I vow a most elegant and uncommon thought.
Miss Als. One that can pen a note in the familiar, the punctilious, or the witty—It's quite troublesome to be always writing wit for one's self—But above all, she is to have a talent for music.
Mrs. Blandish. Ay, your very soul is framed for harmony.
Miss Als. I have not quite determined what to call her—Governante of the private chamber, keeper of the boudoir, with a silver key at her breast——
Enter Chignon.
Chignon. Madame, a young lady beg to know if you be visible.
Miss Als. A young lady—It is not Lady Emily Gayville?
Chignon. Non, madam, but if you were absente, and I had the adjustment of her head, she would be the most charmante personne I did ever see.
Miss Als. Introduce her. [Exit Chignon.] Who can this be?