dark——Nay, it's worse, if I am carried among my great neighbours in Miss Alscrip's suite, as she calls it. My lady looks over me; my lord walks over me; and sets me in a little tottering cane chair, at the cold corner of the table—Though I have a mortgage upon the house and furniture, and arrears due of the whole interest. It's a pleasure though to be well dressed. My daughter maintains all fashions are founded in sense——Icod the tightness of my wig, and the stiffness of my cape, give me the sense of the pillory—Plaguy scanty about the hips too—And the breast something of a merrythought reversed—But there is some sense in that, for if one sex pares away in proportion where the other swells, we shall take up no more room in the world than we did before.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Sir, Miss Alscrip wishes to see you.

Alscrip. Who is with her?

Serv. Only Mrs. Blandish, sir.

Alscrip. She must content herself with that company, till I have had my whet——Order up the eggs and bacon.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Miss Alscrip discovered at her Toilet. Chignon, [her Valet de Chambre,] dressing her Head. Mrs. Blandish sitting by, and holding a Box of Diamond Pins.

Miss Als. And so, Blandish, you really think that the introduction of Otahaite feathers in my trimming succeeded?

Mrs. Blandish. Oh, with the mixture of those charming Italian flowers, and the knots of pearl that gathered up the festoons, never any thing had so happy an effect——It put the whole ball-room out of humour. Monsieur Chignon, that pin a little more to the front.

Miss Als. And what did they say?

Mrs. Blandish. You know it is the first solicitude of my life to see the friend of my heart treated with justice. So when you stood up to dance, I got into the thick of the circle——Monsieur, don't you think this large diamond would be well placed just in the middle?

Chignon. Eh! non, madame; ce ne releve pas——Dat give no relief to de weight of de curl——Full in de front un gros bouton, von great nob of diamond! pardie ce seroit un accommodage à la Polyphême; de big eye of de geant in de centre of de forehead.

Miss Als. Chignon is right in point of taste, though not quite so happy in his allusions as he is sometimes.

Chignon. Ah! Madame, you have done von grande injure to my contrée: You go for von monthe, and bring avay all de good taste——At Paris——all von side——de diamond—de cap—de glance—de bon mot même—All von side, nothing direct à Paris.

Miss Als. [Smiling at Chignon, and then turning to Mrs. Blandish.] Well!——And so——

Mrs. Blandish. So it was all admiration! Elegant, says Lady Spite—it may do very well for Miss Alscrip, who never looks at expense. The dress of a bridal princess! cries Mrs. Scanty, and for one night's wear too!

Miss Als. Delightful! the very language I wished for——Oh, how charmingly apropos was my accident! did you see when my trimming in the passe-pied of a cotilion came luckily in contact with Billy Skim's great shoe-buckle—How it ripped away?

Mrs. Blandish. Did I see it?

Miss Als. One of the great feathers stuck fast on the shoe, and looked for all the world like the heel wing of a Mercury in a pantomime.

Mrs. Blandish. Oh! you witty creature, how you describe!

Miss Als. It was a most becoming rent!

Mrs. Blandish. And what a display of indifference; what an example for a woman of fortune, did you exhibit in the bustle of picking up the scattered fragments!

Miss Als. When the pearls were trundling about, and I insisted upon the company being no longer disturbed, but would leave what remained for fairy favours to the maid who swept the room. He! he! he! Do you think Lady Emily would have done that better?

Mrs. Blandish. Lady Emily? poor girl!—How soon must she submit to be the humble second of the family.

Miss Als. He! he! he! Do you sincerely think so, Blandish? And yet it would be strange if it were otherwise, for I could buy her ten times over.

Chignon. Madame, vat humeure vould you wear to-day?

Miss Als. Humour, Chignon? What am I dressed for now?

Chignon. The parfaite aimable, madam: but my bringing de point of de hair more down to de eye-brow, or adding a little blowse to de sides, I can give you de look severe, capricieuse—vat you please.

Miss Als. We'll put it off for half an hour, I am not quite decided. I was in the capricieuse yesterday—I believe I shall keep on the perfect amiable. [Exit Chignon.] Tiffany, take off my powdering gown——Ah! ho!——How the wench tugs—do you think you are pulling off the coachman's greatcoat?

Mrs. Blandish. My dear amiable!—do not let that sweet temper be ruffled—Why will you not employ me in these little offices. Delicacy like yours should be waited upon by the softness of a sylph.

[During this Speech exit Tiffany peevishly.

Miss Als. I am promised a creature to be about me out of the common way.

Mrs. Blandish. A new woman?

Miss Als. No; something to be raised much higher, and at the same time fitted better to receive one's ill-humour. An humble companion, well born, well educated, and perfectly dependent, is a most useful appurtenance in the best families.

Mrs. Blandish. Well, do not raise her to the rank of a friend, lest I should be jealous.

Miss Als. You may be perfectly secure—I shall take particular care that friendship shall be out of the question on both sides. I had once thought of a restoration of pages to sit in scarlet and silver (as one reads in former times) upon the forepart of the coach, and to hold up one's train—but I have a new male attendant in a valet de chambre, who has possession of my bust—My two women will have the charge from the point of the shoulder to the toe—So my person being provided for—the Countess of Gayville shall have an attendant to wait upon her mind.

Mrs. Blandish. I vow a most elegant and uncommon thought.

Miss Als. One that can pen a note in the familiar, the punctilious, or the witty—It's quite troublesome to be always writing wit for one's self—But above all, she is to have a talent for music.

Mrs. Blandish. Ay, your very soul is framed for harmony.

Miss Als. I have not quite determined what to call her—Governante of the private chamber, keeper of the boudoir, with a silver key at her breast——

Enter Chignon.

Chignon. Madame, a young lady beg to know if you be visible.

Miss Als. A young lady—It is not Lady Emily Gayville?

Chignon. Non, madam, but if you were absente, and I had the adjustment of her head, she would be the most charmante personne I did ever see.

Miss Als. Introduce her. [Exit Chignon.] Who can this be?

Mrs. Blandish. Some woman of taste, to inquire your correspondent at Paris—or—

Enter Miss Alton.

Miss Alscrip courtesying