ture who does not know _Buffon_ from
_Soufle_--Man!--my Letitia--Man! for whom we dress, walk, dance, talk,
lisp, languish, and smile. Does not the grave Spectator assure us that
even our much bepraised diffidence, modesty, and blushes are all
directed to make ourselves good wives and mothers as fast as we can?
Why, I'll undertake with one flirt of this hoop to bring more beaux to
my feet in one week than the grave Maria, and her sentimental circle,
can do, by sighing sentiment till their hairs are grey.

LETITIA. Well, I won't argue with you; you always out-talk me; let us
change the subject. I hear that Mr. Dimple and Maria are soon to be
married.

CHARLOTTE. You hear true. I was consulted in the choice of the wedding
clothes. She is to be married in a delicate white satin, and has a
monstrous pretty brocaded lutestring for the second day. It would have
done you good to have seen with what an affected indifference the dear
sentimentalist [turned over a thousand pretty things, just as if her
heart did not palpitate with her approaching happiness, and at last made
her choice and][4] arranged her dress with such apathy as if she did not
know that plain white satin and a simple blond lace would shew her clear
skin and dark hair to the greatest advantage.

LETITIA. But they say her indifference to dress, and even to the
gentleman himself, is not entirely affected.

CHARLOTTE. How?

LETITIA. It is whispered that if Maria gives her hand to Mr. Dimple, it
will be without her heart.

CHARLOTTE. Though the giving the heart is one of the last of all
laughable considerations in the marriage of a girl of spirit, yet I
should like to hear what antiquated notions the dear little piece of
old-fashioned prudery has got in her head.

LETITIA. Why, you know that old Mr. John-Richard-Robert-Jacob-Isaac-
Abraham-Cornelius Van Dumpling, Billy Dimple's father (for he has
thought fit to soften his name, as well as manners, during his English
tour) was the most intimate friend of Maria's father. The old folks,
about a year before Mr. Van Dumpling's death, proposed this match: the
young folks were accordingly introduced, and told they must love one
another. Billy was then a good-natured, decent-dressing young fellow,
with a little dash of the coxcomb, such as our young fellows of fortune
usually have. At this time, I really believe she thought she loved him;
and had they then been married, I doubt not they might have jogged on,
to the