rofessions the last evening were
warm, but now they were ardent. They protested a desire of having a more
lasting acquaintance; Lady Blarney was particularly attached to Olivia;
Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs (I love to give the whole name)
took a greater fancy to her sister. They supported the conversation
between themselves, while my daughters sat silent, admiring their
exalted breeding. But as every reader, however beggarly himself, is fond
of high-lived dialogues, with anecdotes of lords, ladies, and Knights of
the Garter, I must beg leave to give him the concluding part of the
present conversation.

"All that I know of the matter," cried Miss Skeggs, "is this: that it
may be true, or it may not be true; but this I can assure your ladyship,
that the whole route was in amaze; his lordship turned all manner of
colors, my lady fell into a swoon, but Sir Tomkyn, drawing his sword,
swore he was hers to the last drop of his blood."

"Well," replied our peeress, "this I can say: that the duchess
never told me a syllable of the matter; and I believe her Grace
would keep nothing a secret from me. This you may depend upon as
fact: that the next morning my lord duke cried out three times to
his _valet-de-chambre_, 'Jernigan, Jernigan, Jernigan, bring me
my garters!'"

But previously I should have mentioned the very impolite behavior of Mr.
Burchell, who during this discourse sat with his face turned to the
fire, and at the conclusion of every sentence would cry out
"_Fudge!_"--an expression which displeased us all, and in some measure
damped the rising spirit of the conversation.

"Besides, my dear Skeggs," continued our peeress, "there is nothing of
this in the copy of verses that Doctor Burdock made upon the occasion."
_Fudge!_

"I am surprised at that," cried Miss Skeggs; "for he seldom leaves
anything out, as he writes only for his own amusement. But can your
Ladyship favor me with a sight of them?" _Fudge!_

"My dear creature," replied our peeress, "do you think I carry such
things about me? Though they are very fine, to be sure, and I think
myself something of a judge; at least I know what pleases myself.
Indeed, I was ever an admirer of all Doctor Burdock's little pieces; for
except what he does, and our dear countess at Hanover Square, there's
nothing comes out but the most lowest stuff in nature; not a bit of high
life among them." _Fudge!_

"Your Ladyship should except," says t'other, "your own thing