“How! do you suppose he does not?”
“I suppose that he does, yet I don’t know it.”
“Then if you suppose that he does, how can you have the imprudence to find fault with her before him?”
“I did not. To call her gloomy, was, I knew, to commend her both to him and to you, who admire such tempers.”
“Whatever her temper is, every one admires it; and so far from its being what you have described, she has great vivacity; vivacity which comes from the heart.”
“No, if it came from thence, I should admire it too; but, if she has any, it rests there, and no one is the better for it.”
“Pshaw!” said Miss Woodley, “it is time for us to retire; you and Mr. Sandford must finish your dispute in the morning.”
“Dispute, Madam!” said Sandford, “I never disputed with any one beneath a doctor of divinity in my life. I was only cautioning your friend not to make light of those virtues which it would do her honour to possess. Miss Fenton is a most amiable young woman, and worthy of just such a husband as my Lord Elmwood will make her.”
“I am sure,” said Miss Woodley, “Miss Milner thinks so—she has a high opinion of Miss Fenton—she was at present only jesting.”
“But, Madam, a jest is a very pernicious thing, when delivered with a malignant sneer. I have known a jest destroy a lady’s reputation—I have known a jest give one person a distaste for another—I have known a jest break off a marriage.”