Lady Mary Wortley. After a hard day's shopping, they had come home laden with bargains, and the dressing-room was strewed with Indian fans, ivory boxes, and lace. They were going to dine téte-à-téte, as there was a gay ball in perspective, and they needed a little recruiting. Chloe, who had never forgotten his mistress's brilliant suggestion of the pigmies, exhausted his genius in the slight, but exquisite dinner, which he sent up, and which was, at least, duly appreciated by Lady Mary.
"There is something," exclaimed she, "wanting in the composition of one who can be indifferent to the fascination of such an omelet as this."
"I own," replied Henrietta, "I never care what I eat."
"More shame for you!" returned her companion; "it only shows how little you consider your duty to yourself."
"My duty to myself!" cried Lady Marchmont; "why, that would be
'Roots from the earth,
And water from the spring,'
