"Oh, that was natural," she said; "it would have been odd could I have done otherwise. But real feeling is a much deeper seated quality than can be judged of by singing a song, or a passing impulse, and I do not own that you can know any thing about me or my feelings."
"Perhaps not," replied Mr. Leslie Winyard, looking grave and humble; "may it be my good fortune to know more of these, and to have the honour and advantage of improving my acquaintance with you."—Here a louder laugh than was usual among the fastidious in manners, interrupted this tête-à-tête; "will you not allow us to benefit by the wit?" asked Mr. Winyard.
"Oh," said Lady Tenderden, "it is only that Sir William Temple fell asleep, and asked, when he was awoke, for some more maids of honour."—"To be sure," he said, "what does one go to Richmond for, but to eat those exquisite compositions. If all maids of honour were like them, I am sure their race would be more in vogue than it is. I would give a hundred or two to have the receipt, for notwithstanding that I have brought my cook disguised en valet de chambre a thousand times, he never could find out the secret; neither has he been able, with all his art, to produce any precise fac-simile."
"Ah!" exclaimed Lord Gascoigne, "that is the true spirit of philanthropy; a hundred or two for a receipt to make cheesecakes! while we have such men in the state we need not be under any apprehension that the arts and sciences will fail."
"Yes, arts and sciences, my Lord Gascoigne; for I affirm that the pleasures of the table require one to be an adept, both in order to procure and preserve them in perfection. Who will deny that the cultivation and use of the animals, and vegetables, and elements, that are employed, do not include all these, not to speak of the main d'œuvre."
"I am not disputing the fact," said Lord Gascoigne; "why did you address yourself to me? On the contrary, I am so well convinced of it, that I pay my cook a hundred a year: but the rascal threatens to leave me if I do not raise his wages."
"I cannot be surprised at that," said Lord Baskerville, "for I give mine two, and he is only a second-rate performer."
"It is vastly extravagant," cried Lady Tilney; "however, one need not do it if one does not chuse; and, after all, it is not too much to pay a man to become a salamander."
"Oh," cried the Comtesse Leinsengen, "ils son fait au feu ces gens-là, they are good for nothing else, and if you were not to yield to them, you would have them for half de money; but you are all des dupes in England. You think the more you pay, de grander you are, that is the truth."