impaired; while you were as buoyant in step, as bright in eye, and as gay in words, as if the sun had been shining. Nay, I even heard you laugh—laugh during an east wind!—let no woman talk of her evil fate after that."
Lady Mandeville.—"I may be silenced, but am not convinced. Power, wealth, and love, are not these the great enjoyments in life, and have you not retained these to yourselves? The power you have arrogated—the wealth you have engrossed—and of love you have only left us its constancy and its sorrow."
Mr. Trevyllian.—"Too many charges at once. I will reply to the last first; indeed, that will be an answer to all—for through love our power is at your feet, and our wealth is in your hands. As for constancy, it is the veriest falsehood poet or novelist ever invented, either to heighten a sentiment or turn a phrase, when he ascribed it as the especial merit of your sex. We are a thousand times more constant. A woman has so many things that divide her heart with her lover. Alas! the diamonds we give are our rivals—they take up the thoughts we want to engross. Then the horror to think how soon the affection inspired by oneself is merged in that inspired
