Lady E. To ecstacy. I only despair of seeing it well kept up.
Miss Als. I flatter myself there is no great danger of that.
Lady E. You are mistaken. We have, 'tis true, some examples of the extravaganza in high life, that no other country can match; but withal, many a false sister, that starts as one would think, in the very heyday of the fantastic, yet comes to a stand-still in the midst of the course.
Mrs. Blandish. Poor, spiritless creatures!
Lady E. Do you know there is more than one duchess who has been seen in the same carriage with her husband—like two doves in a basket, in the print of Conjugal Felicity; and another has been detected—I almost blush to name it—
Mrs. Blandish. Bless us! where? and how? and how?
Lady E. In nursing her own child!
Miss Als. Oh! barbarism!——For heaven's sake let us change the subject. You were mentioning a revived cap, Lady Emily; any thing of the Henry Quatre?
Lady E. Quite different. An English mob under the chin, and artless ringlets, in natural colour, that shall restore an admiration for Prior's Nut-brown Maid.
Miss Als. Horrid! shocking!