“Oh! delightful—the girls especially—sing like angels.”
“Well, the ladies I know are all angels with you at present—that you have told us several times.”
“It’s really true, I believe—at least as far as I can see: but you know I have not had time to see farther than the outside yet.”
“The gentlemen, however—I suppose you have seen the inside of some of them?”
“Certainly—those who have any thing inside of them—Dartford, for instance.”
“Well, Mr. Dartford, he is the man Sir Ulick said was so clever.”
“Very clever—he is—I suppose, though I don’t really recollect any thing remarkable that I have heard him say. But the wit must be in him—and he lets out a good deal of his opinions—of his opinion of himself a little too much. But he is much admired.”
“And Mr. Darrell—what of him?”
“Very fashionable. But indeed all I know about him is, that his dress is quite the thing, and that he knows more about dishes and cooks than I could have conceived any man upon earth of his age could know—but they say it’s the fashion—he is very fashionable, I hear.”
“But is he conceited?”