O Mrs. Betty, you can tell a great deal, if you please. But here I am forbid writing to any one of my family; none of it now will come near me; nor will any of it permit me to see them: How shall I do to make known my request, to stay here a week or fortnight longer?
Why, Miss, I fancy, if you were to shew a compliable temper, your friends would shew a compliable one too. But would you expect favours, and grant none?
Smartly put, Betty! But who knows what may be the result of my being carried to my uncle Antony's?
Who knows, Miss!—Why any body will guess what may be the result.
As how, Betty?
As how! repeated the pert wench, Why, Miss, you will stand in your own light, as you have hitherto done: and your parents, as such good parents ought, will be obeyed.
If, Mrs. Betty, I had not been used to your oughts, and to have my duty laid down to me by your oraculous wisdom I should be apt to stare at the liberty of you speech.
You seem angry, Miss. I hope I take no unbecoming liberty.
If thou really thinkest thou dost not, thy ignorance is more to be pitied, than thy pertness resented. I wish thou wouldst leave me to myself.
When young ladies fall out with their own duty, it is not much to be wondered at, that they are angry at any body who do theirs.