raised. We never see each other but through the false mediums of passion, or affection, or indifference—all three equally bad for observation."
Lady Mandeville.—"I differ from you; but truly, I cannot sacrifice myself to my opinions. It is too late in the day to dispute; for haste and perfection no toilette ever yet united."
Edward Lorraine.—"Unhappy is he who relies on female friendship! You sacrifice my argument to a curl. Well might the old poet say:
'Oh, take, if you would measure forth the worth of woman's mind,
A scale made of the spider's web, and weights made of the wind.'"
The party was very small, and the fire very large; therefore the half hour before dinner was not so dull as it is generally said to be. By the by, that half hour has always seemed to me to be peculiarly ill treated. Some evil-disposed person has called it stupid. An invidious epithet is always remembered and reapplied: and that one half hour will go to its grave with its appellation of stupid; no exceptions made in its favour—no pleasant reminiscences, not even a single flirtation, brought, like a solitary wit-
