o extract something, either knowledge or
amusement, out of the dullest book. Her stepmother says that she would
often linger after the usual bed-time, to talk over what she had heard,
when bright, deep or solid observations would alternate with gay
anecdotes apropos of the work or its author. For Miss Edgeworth's best
talk was not reserved for abroad, but was rather poured forth at its
best when surrounded by those she loved. That her conversation was at
all times delightful there is abundant testimony. Mr. Ticknor says of
it: "There was a life and spirit about her conversation, she threw
herself into it with such _abandon_, she retorted with such brilliant
repartee, and, in short, she talked with such extraordinary flow of
natural talent, that I don't know whether anything of the kind could be
finer."

It is said that even those who came to pay a mere morning call would
often remain for hours, loth to terminate the conversation. Nor was her
talk by any means uniformly grave; she knew most happily how to blend
the grave and gay; she loved to laugh herself and arouse laughter in
others, and when she laughed she did so with all the exuberant enjoyment
of an Irishwoman. Indeed, there was far more of the light-hearted, merry
Irishwoman in Miss Edgeworth than her writings, especially her moral
tales, would lead the world to suppose. In her, Irish good qualities
were mingled with practical wisdom, judgment and good sense, and
produced a combination both rare and charming. She said of herself that
she was ugly, remarking that she was the last ugly person left; the rest
of the world were no longer anything but plain; but those who knew her
did not subscribe to this verdict. She was not, and never had been,
good-looking;[10] but a face that beamed such kindliness, reflected such
intelligence, could never be really plain. In form she was _petite_; her
well-made, almost elegant figure, that remained slight to the last, was
enhanced by a scrupulously trim appearance. She was very neat and
particular in her dress, and was not only always tidy, but well attired
and in accordance with the fashion. She maintained throughout her life
that a woman should not be above attending to her dress. Ostentation of
any kind was foreign to her nature. When a relative died, leaving her a
pair of valuable diamond ear-rings and pearl bracelets, her instant
thought was, what good could she do with them? They were sold at once,
and with the proceeds she