one of a
forgiving temperament, and who is disposed to view even my follies
favourably."

The kind but painful smile of Eve, assured the speaker she was not
mistaken, and she continued, after taking time to read the expression
of the countenance of her young friend--

"In common with all of New-York, that town of babbling misses, who
prattle as water flows, without consciousness or effort, and of
whiskered masters, who fancy Broadway the world, and the flirtations
of miniature drawing-rooms, human nature, I believed, on your return
from Europe, that an accepted suitor followed in your train, in the
person of Sir George Templemore."

"Nothing in my deportment, or in that of Sir George, or in that of
any of my family, could justly have given rise to such a notion,"
said Eve, quickly.

"Justly! What has justice, or truth, or even probability, to do with
a report, of which love and matrimony are the themes? Do you not know
_society_ better than to fancy this improbability, child?"

"I know that our own sex would better consult their own dignity and
respectability, my dear Mrs. Bloomfield, if they talked less of such
matters; and that they would be more apt to acquire the habits of
good taste, not to say of good principles, if they confined their
strictures more to things and sentiments than they do, and meddled
less with persons."

"And pray, is there no tittle-tattle, no scandal, no commenting on
one's neighbours, in other civilized nations besides this?"

"Unquestionably; though I believe, as a rule, it is every where
thought to be inherently vulgar, and a proof of low associations."

"In that, we are perfectly of a mind; for, if there be any thing that
betrays a consciousness of inferiority, it is our rendering others of
so much obvious importance to ourselves, as to make them the subjects
of our constant conversation. We may speak of virtues, for therein we
pay an homage to that which is good; but when we come to dwell on
personal faults, it is rather a proof that we have a silent
conviction of the superiority of the subject of our comments to
ourselves, either in character, talents, social position, or
something else that is deemed essential, than of our distaste for his
failings. Who, for instance, talks scandal of his grocer, or of his
shoemaker? No, no, our pride forbids this; we always make our betters
the subject of our strictures by preference, taking up with our
equals only when we can get none of a