“What a party of Tories!” whispered Captain Steele to Esmond, as we were assembled in the parlour before dinner. Indeed, all the company present, save Steele, were of that faction.
Mr. St. John made his special compliments to Mrs. Steele, and so charmed her that she declared she would have Steele a Tory too.
“Or will you have me a Whig?” says Mr. St. John. “I think, madam, you could convert a man to anything.”
“If Mr. St. John ever comes to Bloomsbury Square I will teach him what I know,” says Mrs. Steele, dropping her handsome eyes. “Do you know Bloomsbury Square?”
“Do I know the Mall? Do I know the Opera? Do I know the reigning toast? Why, Bloomsbury is the very height of the mode,” says Mr. St. John. “'Tis rus in urbe. You have gardens all the way to Hampstead, and palaces round about you—Southampton House and Montague House.”
“Where you wretches go and fight duels,” cries Mrs. Steele.
“Of which the ladies are the cause!” says her entertainer. “Madam, is Dick a good swordsman? How charming the Tatler is! We all recognized your portrait in the 49th number, and I have been dying to know you ever since I read it. ‘Aspasia must be allowed to be the first of the beauteous order of love.’ Doth not the passage run so? ‘In this accomplished lady love is the constant effect, though it is never the design; yet though her mien carries much more invitation than command, to behold her is an immediate check to loose behaviour, and to love her is a liberal education.’ ”
“Oh, indeed!” says Mrs. Steele, who did not seem to understand a word of what the gentleman was saying.
“Who could fail to be accomplished under such a mistress?” says Mr. St. John, still gallant and bowing.
“Mistress! upon my word, sir!” cries the lady. “If you mean me, sir, I would have you know that I am the captain's wife.”