Mrs. Blandish. Oh, you sweet twins of perfection——what equality in every thing! I have thought of a name for you—The Inseparable Inimitables.
Miss Als. I declare I shall like it exceedingly—one sees so few uncopied originals—the thing I cannot bear—
Lady E. Is vulgar imitation—I must catch the words from your mouth, to show you how we agree.
Miss Als. Exactly. Not that one wishes to be without affectation.
Lady E. Oh! mercy forbid!
Miss Als. But to catch a manner, and weave it, as I may say, into one's own originality.
Mrs. Blandish. Pretty! pretty!
Lady E. That's the art—Lord, if one lived entirely upon one's own whims, who would not be run out in a twelvemonth?
Miss Als. Dear Lady Emily, don't you dote upon folly?