especially
unbecoming in me to encourage profligacy."

"I believe, madam," said the clergyman, gravely, "the poor woman's
distress may justify your ladyship's bounty, even if her conduct has
been faulty."

"O, I am no prude, neither, I assure you, Mr. Cargill," answered the
Lady Penelope. "I never withdraw my countenance from any one but on the
most irrefragable grounds. I could tell you of an intimate friend of my
own, whom I have supported against the whole clamour of the people at
the Well, because I believe, from the bottom of my soul, she is only
thoughtless--nothing in the world but thoughtless--O Mr. Cargill, how
can you look across the table so intelligently?--who would have thought
it of you?--Oh fie, to make such personal applications!"

"Upon my word, madam, I am quite at a loss to comprehend"----

"Oh fie, fie, Mr. Cargill," throwing in as much censure and surprise as
a confidential whisper can convey--"you looked at my Lady Binks--I know
what you think, but you are quite wrong, I assure you; you are entirely
wrong.--I wish she would not flirt quite so much with that young Lord
Etherington though, Mr. Cargill--her situation is particular.--Indeed, I
believe she wears out his patience; for see he is leaving the room
before we sit down--how singular!--And then, do you not think it very
odd, too, that Miss Mowbray has not come down to us?"

"Miss Mowbray!--what of Miss Mowbray--is she not here?" said Mr.
Cargill, starting, and with an expression of interest which he had not
yet bestowed on any of her ladyship's liberal communications.

"Ay, poor Miss Mowbray," said Lady Penelope, lowering her voice, and
shaking her head; "she has not appeared--her brother went up stairs a
few minutes since, I believe, to bring her down, and so we are all left
here to look at each other.--How very awkward!--But you know Clara
Mowbray."

"I, madam?" said Mr. Cargill, who was now sufficiently attentive; "I
really--I know Miss Mowbray--that is, I knew her some years since--but
your ladyship knows she has been long in bad health--uncertain health at
least, and I have seen nothing of the young lady for a very long time."

"I know it, my dear Mr. Cargill--I know it," continued the Lady
Penelope, in the same tone of deep sympathy, "I know it; and most
unhappy surely have been the circumstances that have separated her from
your advice and friendly counsel.--All this I am aware of--and to say
truth, it has been chiefly on poor