“Ah, you are a strange romantic girl, and never will be married after all, I fear.”
“Never to a fool, I hope,” said Cecilia.
“Miss Delamere will, however, allow,” said Lady Y——, “that a man may have his follies, without being a fool, or wholly unworthy of her esteem; otherwise, what a large portion of mankind she would deprive of hope!”
“As to Lord Glenthorn, he was no fool, I promise you,” continued the mother: “has not he been living prudently enough these three years? We have not heard of late of any of his extraordinary landaus.”
“But I have been told,” said Cecilia, “that he is quite uninformed, without any taste for literature, and absolutely incapable of exertion—a victim to ennui. How miserable a woman must be with such a husband!”
“But,” said Lady Y——, “what could be expected from a young nobleman bred up as Lord Glenthorn was?”
“Nothing,” said Cecilia; “and that is the very reason I never wished to see him.”
“Perhaps Miss Delamere’s opinion might be changed if she had known him,” said Lady Y——,
“Ay, for he is a very handsome man, I have heard,” said the mother. “Lady Jocunda Lawler told me so, in one of her letters; and Lady Jocunda was very near being married to him herself, I can tell you, for he admired her prodigiously.”
“A certain proof that he never would have admired me,” said Cecilia; “for two women, so opposite in every respect, no man could have loved.”