such. Every man, in this country, carry his Bibel in his hand; he refer himself when he puzzle, not to this man or that man, but to the written word of God, to the abiding testimony."
"My dear Count, for Heaven's sake, don't run on in this way about things held obsolete by all people of fashion! I would not have had any body here, for the world, when you were talking about the Bible and such like—it is never done with us, I assure you."
"But I assure you it is, though. I spent three days, last week, with the Marquis of Wentworthdale; and there was visitants, noble and learned, who speak continual of such thing, and ask me question of many kinds; especial the Duke of Plymouth and the—"
"Were you really with Lord Wentworthdale?—what is he doing?—when will he come to town?—be is the strangest man I ever knew!"
"He have had a fever of rheumatics, which make him lame with crutch, his hair is bleach, his face has the puckers—he is very good man—man to love, but certainly not man for marry Georgina."
"Then why not say so?—why not write to me?—an infamous old man, what does he mean by being ill in the country?"
"Hush, hush, hush, he is very good, and not to call old; but he is infirm, and gets well as you do, by the long degree—I mean the slowness."
"When a man of his age takes it into his head to marry, he ought to do the thing at once; a coup-de-
