‘Good heavens,’ cried the lovely Lady Torrendale, as her woman was putting the last finish to her dress for a dinner party in the country, ‘how long is this life to last? I have tried it but a fortnight, and I am already completely sick of it. If my Lord Torrendale finds it necessary to spend some time at his Derbyshire estate, why cannot he leave me at Bath, or at Rose-villa – One could pass an Autumn so pleasantly at Rose-villa – Or if he must insist on my accompanying him here, why not suffer me at / least to fill the house with decent people from the land of the living? If Strathallan were returned 'twould make some difference – But to carry me down to a desert with no other companions than my little, unformed girl, and her sickening, sentimental governess – Really my dear Floss,’ she continued, caressing a little silken haired spaniel that lay at her feet, ‘as I am now situated, you are, I think, the only rational creature I have seen this some time past.’

‘Very complimentary,’ exclaimed Lord Torrendale, who entered her dressing-room at the moment her attendant had quitted it, ‘Yet there are ways, Lady Torrendale, by which a few month's residence in the country might be rendered not only bearable, but productive of the most lasting and well-grounded satisfaction.’

‘What are they my Lord? I should be very glad to know them.’

‘Have you not your elegant domestic resources, the amusement of books, the cultivation of the society around you, and the pleasures of benevolence?’

'Benevolence! you know how many experiments I have tried in that way already. I came down to the country, glowing with the romantic hopes inspired by the fine description given in novels, of rural innocence and sensibility, and for the first days, Miss Langrish and I did nothing but work, and talk of them. We resolved to make petticoats and gowns sufficient for some pretty little children, who had attracted my notice on our first arrival, and who did not appear to me very well clothed.