‘Pray,’ said Lady Pelham to her niece, ‘what might you and your paragon be engaged in for the hour and a half you were together this evening?’

‘We were discussing a very important subject, Madam,’ answered Laura, mustering all her confidence.

‘May I be permitted to inquire into the nature of it?’ returned Lady Pelham, covering her spleen with a thin disguise of ceremony.

‘Certainly, Madam,’ replied Laura. ‘You may remember I once told you that if ever I received addresses which I could with honour reveal, I should bespeak your Ladyship's patience for my tale. Mr De Courcy was talking of marriage, Madam; and – and I –’

‘Oh, mighty well, Miss Montreville,’ cried Lady Pelham, swelling with rage, ‘I comprehend you perfectly. You may spare your modesty. Keep all these airs and blushes till you tell Colonel Hargrave, that all your fine high-flown passion for him has been quite at the service of the next man you met with!’

Laura's eyes filled with tears of mortification, yet she meekly answered, ‘I am conscious that the degrading attachment of which I was once the sport merits your upbraidings; and indeed they have not been its least punishment.’ She paused for a moment, and then added with an insinuating smile. ‘I can bear that you should reproach me with my new choice, for inconstancy is the prescriptive right of woman, and nothing else can be objected to my present views.’

‘Oh, far be it from me,’ cried Lady Pelham, scorn and anger throwing her whole little person into active motion, 'far be it from me to make any objection to your immaculate swain! I will have you understand, however, that no part of my property shall go to enrich a parcel of proud beggars. It was indeed my intention, if you had made a proper match, to give you the little all that I have to bestow; but if you prefer starving with your methodist parson to being the heiress of five-and-forty thousand pounds, I have no more to say. However, you had better keep your own secret.