"Miss Millar is angry with me for the implied reflection on Croydon," said he, "but I knew she had not been brought up here, and never thought of her as belonging to the place."
"And what do you know of Croydon, to give you so dark an opinion of its inhabitants?" enquired she, "I do not think we slander, or court here worse than in other places."
"I have heard a great deal about you all, from my two sisters," replied he; "Emma especially, gave me lively pictures of your proceedings. I was well acquainted with you and your irreconcileable prejudices against unfortunate surgeons several months ago.
"Oh! you used to correspond with Emma, did you?" said she.
"To be sure I did; would not you write to your brother, Miss Millar?"
"Perhaps I might—but I do not think he would read it if I did—especially if I crossed the letter! George is not fond of letters!"
"But you like them yourself?"
"Oh yes! I should like to have seen Emma's to you. I am sure they would have been very interesting—does she not write very clever letters?"
"I used to think them interesting and clever—but, perhaps, that was because I am only a surgeon, and could not be expected to have either taste or judgment," replied he, with mock humility.
"Oh, but I think you might have both on that subject—your admiring Emma's letters is decidedly a proof of it."