Cecilia, looking at the bill of the
concert, "have a full piece; and that I hope will revive you."

"A full piece! oh, insupportable! it stuns, it fatigues, it overpowers
me beyond endurance! no taste in it, no delicacy, no room for the
smallest feeling."

"Perhaps, then, you are only fond of singing?"

"I should be, if I could hear it; but we are now so miserably off in
voices, that I hardly ever attempt to listen to a song, without fancying
myself deaf from the feebleness of the performers. I hate everything
that requires attention. Nothing gives pleasure that does not force its
own way."

"You only, then, like loud voices, and great powers?"

"Oh, worse and worse!--no, nothing is so disgusting to me. All my
amazement is that these people think it worth while to give concerts at
all--one is sick to death of music."

"Nay," cried Cecilia, "if it gives no pleasure, at least it takes none
away; for, far from being any impediment to conversation, I think
everybody talks more during the performance than between the acts. And
what is there better you could substitute in its place?"

Cecilia, receiving no answer to this question, again looked round to see
if she had been heard; when she observed her new acquaintance, with a
very thoughtful air, had turned from her to fix his eyes upon the statue
of Britannia.

Very soon after, he hastily arose, and seeming entirely to forget that
he had spoken to her, very abruptly walked away.

Mr. Gosport, who was advancing to Cecilia and had watched part of this
scene, stopped him as he was retreating, and said, "Why, Meadows, how's
this? are you caught at last?"

"Oh, worn to death! worn to a thread!" cried he, stretching himself and
yawning; "I have been talking with a young lady to entertain her! oh,
such heavy work! I would not go through it again for millions!"

"What, have you talked yourself out of breath?"

"No; but the effort! the effort!--Oh, it has unhinged me for a
fortnight!--Entertaining a young lady!--one had better be a galley-slave
at once!"

"Well, but did she not pay your toils? She is surely a sweet creature."

"Nothing can pay one for such insufferable exertion! though she's well
enough, too--better than the common run--but shy, quite too shy; no
drawing her out."

"I thought that was to your taste. You commonly hate much volubility.
How have I heard you bemoan yourself when attacked by Miss Larolles!"

"Larolles! Oh, distraction! she talks me int