Mr. W. Miss Mullins, look at Miss Ranville: what a picture of good
humor.
Miss M.--Oh, you satirical creature!
Mr. W.--Do you know why she is so angry? she expected to dance with
Captain Grig, and by some mistake, the Cambridge Professor got hold of
her: isn't he a handsome man?
Miss M.--Oh, you droll wretch!
Mr. W.--Yes, he's a fellow of college--fellows mayn't marry, Miss
Mullins--poor fellows, ay, Miss Mullins?
Miss M.--La!
Mr. W.--And Professor of Phlebotomy in the University. He flatters
himself he is a man of the world, Miss Mullins, and always dances in the
long vacation.
Miss M.--You malicious, wicked monster!
Mr. W.--Do you know Lady Jane Ranville? Miss Ranville's mamma. A ball
once a year; footmen in canary-colored livery: Baker Street; six dinners
in the season; starves all the year round; pride and poverty, you know;
I've been to her ball ONCE. Ranville Ranville's her brother, and between
you and me--but this, dear Miss Mullins, is a profound secret,--I think
he's a greater fool than his sister.
Miss M.--Oh, you satirical, droll, malicious, wicked thing you!
Mr. W.--You do me injustice, Miss Mullins, indeed you do.
[Chaine Anglaise.]