ianne.

"All right, my dear," replied her sister. "If you don't care, I am sure
I need not. I am not in love with Mr Crossland--not by any means. I
never did admire the way in which his nose droops over his mouth. He
has fine teeth--that is a redeeming point."

"Is it? I don't want him to bite me," observed Miss Marianne.

Miss Newton went off into a little (subdued) burst of silvery laughter,
and I sat astonished. Was this the sort of thing which girls called
love?--and was this the way in which fashionable women spoke of the men
whom they had pledged themselves to marry? I am sure I like Mr
Crossland little enough; but I felt almost sorry for him as I listened
to the girl who professed to love him.

Meanwhile, Grandmamma and Mrs Newton were lamenting over the news--as I
supposed: but when I began to listen, I found all that was over and done
with. First, the merits of Puck, the fat pug, were being discussed, and
then the wretchedness of being unable to buy or wear French cambrics,
and the whole history of Mrs Newton's last cambric gown: they washed
it, and mended it, and ripped it, and made it up again. And then
Grandmamma's brocaded silk came on, and how much worse it wore than the
last: and when I was just wondering how many more gowns would have to be
taken to pieces, Mrs Newton rose to go.

"Really, Mrs Desborough, I ought to make my apologies for coming so
early. But this sad news, you know,--the poor Prince! I could not bear
another minute. I knew you would feel it so much. I felt as if I must
come. Now, my dear girls."

"Ma, you haven't asked Mrs Desborough what you came for," said Miss
Marianne.

"What I--Oh!" and Mrs Newton turned back. "This absurd child! Would
you believe it, she gave me no peace till I had asked if you would be so
good as to allow your cook to give mine her receipt for Paradise
pudding. Marianne dotes on your Paradise puddings. Do you mind? I
should be so infinitely obliged to you."

"Dear, no!" said Grandmamma, taking a pinch of snuff, just as Dobson
tapped at the door. "Dobson, run down and tell Cook to send somebody
over to Mrs Newton's with her receipt for Paradise pudding. Be sure it
is not forgotten."

"Yes, Madam," said Dobson. "If you please, Madam, the army is a-going
back; all the coffee-houses have the news this morning."

"Dear, it must be true, then," said Grandmamma, taking another pinch.
"What a pity!--Be sure you do not forget the Paradise