FullReads

Isabella, who had just been reading “A Father’s Legacy to his Daughters,” recollected at this instant Dr. Gregory’s opinion, “that when a girl ceases to blush, she has lost the most powerful charm of beauty.” She had not, however, time to quote this in Matilda’s defence; for Miss Fanshaw ran down stairs, and Isabella recollected, before she overtook her, that it would not be polite to remind her of her early loss of charms.

Lady N—- was in the coach which had excited Miss Fanshaw’s admiration; and this young lady had a glorious opportunity of showing the graces that she had been taught at so much expense, for the room was full of company. Several morning visitors had called upon Mrs. Harcourt, and they formed a pretty large circle, which Miss Fanshaw viewed upon her entrance with a sort of studied assurance.

Mrs. Fanshaw watched Lady N—-‘s eye as her daughter came into the room; but Lady N—- did not appear to be much struck with the second-hand graces of Suxberry House; her eye passed over Miss Fanshaw, in search of something less affected and more interesting.

Miss Fanshaw had now resumed her company face and attitude; she sat in prudent silence, whilst Lady N—- addressed her conversation to Isabella and Matilda, whose thoughts did not seem to be totally engrossed by their own persons.

Dr. X—- had prepared this lady to think favourably of Mad. de Rosier’s pupils, by the account which he had given her of Isabella’s remarks upon Zeluco.

A person of good sense, who has an encouraging countenance, can easily draw out the abilities of young people, and from their manner of listening, as well as from their manner of speaking, can soon form a judgment of their temper and understanding.

Miss Fanshaw, instead of attending with a desire to improve herself from sensible conversation, sat with a look as absent as that of an unskilful actress, whilst the other performers are engaged in their parts.

There was a small book-case, in a recess, at the farthest end of the room, and upon a little table there were some books, which Isabella and Matilda had been reading with Mad. de Rosier. Mrs. Fanshaw looked towards the table, with a sarcastic smile, and said–

“You are great readers, young ladies, I see: may we know what are your studies?”

Miss Fanshaw, to show how well she could walk, crossed the room, and took up one of the books.

“‘Alison upon Taste’–that’s a pretty book, I dare say–but la! what’s this, Miss Isabella? ‘A Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments’–dear me! that must be a curious performance–by a smith! a common smith!”

Isabella, good-naturedly, stopped her from farther absurd exclamations by turning to the title-page of the book and showing her the words “Adam Smith.”

“Ah! A stands for Adam! very true–I thought it was a smith,” said Miss Fanshaw.

“Well, my dear,” said her mother, who had quickness enough to perceive that her daughter had made some mistake, by the countenances of the company, but who had not sufficient erudition to know what the mistake could be–“well, my dear, and suppose it was a smith, there’s nothing extraordinary in that–nothing extraordinary in a smith’s writing a book nowadays,–why not a common blacksmith, as well as a common ploughman?–I was asked, I know, not long ago, to subscribe to the poems of a common ploughman.”

“The Ayrshire ploughman?” said Lady N—-.

“Yes, they called him so, as I recollect, and I really had a mind to put my name down, for I think I saw your ladyship’s amongst the subscribers.”

“Yes, they are beautiful poems,” said Lady N—-.

“So I understand–there are some vastly pretty things in his collection–but one hears of so many good things coming out every day,” said Mrs. Fanshaw, in a plaintive voice. “In these days, I think, every body writes–“