"There is something either very obstinate, or very provoking in you, Emily; you are always talking of loving and liking, vous revenez toujours à vos moutons. Now that is pre

cisely what you must never do; no well-bred person talks about love. You must think only of appearing to the best advantage, being in the best society, and keeping the reins of fashion in your own hand. Never let one day or rather one night pass without being in the first circles, for out of sight out of mind, and if you attend well to that rule, and take especial care no day of rest should intervene, you will soon find that it naturally becomes impossible you should think of any thing else. As to flirting, which seems to shock you so very much, that is only because you attach all sorts of meaning to the word which do not of necessity belong to it, and which people of fashion never intend it should be applied to; that is the fault of your country education."

"Well, but Frances," said Lady Emily, "surely when a woman is married, she has no business to make believe to other men that she

is, or may be brought to be, in love with them ?"

"In love!—there again; whoever talks about being in love?—In love has positively nothing to do with these arrangements."

"Well, but if a husband sees a wife surrounded by men engaged in discourse with, and whispering to her, and that when he joins the party he seems to be one too many, what does he say? Of course he despises his wife, sends her away, kills his rival, or some dreadful tragedy ensues; and how could I talk of the flirtations of a married lady if they really do exist, when it leads to such disgraceful, such terrific consequences ?"

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Why, Emily, what an incorrigible simpleton you are! Who is talking of murder, and misery, and ruin, and all that sort of Old Bailey stuff? Why such things are never alluded to seriously by people who are well-bred. The most they say on such topics is,' Dear how shocking! La, how horrid!'-And then somebody makes a good joke of it, to put the disagreeables out of one's head, and it ends in a laugh. Your ideas are quite ridiculous, quite false, I assure you. Before you have spent another season in London, you will learn, that a man of fashion would

not endure his wife if nobody else flirted with her. His vanity would have no gratification in such a piece of still life; and I am sure she would be dead tired of him, if he never flirted with anybody else. In short, to flirt, is the only way to live well together. Why, there is the young Lady B. and her husband, they appear to me to be on the best possible terms. He is quite aux petits soins with her, when they do meet, but he is not in the least troublesome to her, or she to him; and they really speak to each other as kindly as possible; but I am sure it is for the very reason that they leave each other at perfect liberty. Besides, it is what every body does."

"And do you mean to do so, Frances?" "To be sure I do."

"Oh, Heaven forbid, Frances, that you should be serious."

Lady Frances laughed: "And pray let us hear what you would do;" said she.

"Live for my husband entirely, devotedly," replied Lady Emily with enthusiasm; "be happy with him abroad, and still happier at home; make my house and myself agreeable to his

friends, having no friends myself that were not his likewise; and being so very a part of himself that he could not do without me.-Liking the life he led, whether of gaiety or of seclusion; following his pursuits, or at least endeavouring to be interested in them; thinking of his interests, however much they might interfere with my previous habits and tastes; using my influence to induce him to attend to his public duties, if ever, through indolence or self-indulgence, he was inclined to forget them. In short, finding my own happiness in doing the duty of a wife."

Maussade, enough; and besides, where do you expect to find this phoenix with whom you are to filer le parfait amour?-Prepare to be an old maid, Emily; for I see no hope of you if you continue to persist in these nonsensical resolutions."

"I should be sorry for that, Frances, too; I know marriage is not a state all sunshine, but I am sure I could keep it free of all storms; and to be an old maid is such a melancholy, lonely idea, that if you please, do not con

demn me to it: I never would marry any one I did not esteem and love, and then-”

"Pho! how sick I am of that word love, so perpetually in your mouth; one would think it was meat, drink, and clothing."

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Ay, and so it is, dear sister! and more than all these things put together would be without it."

At this moment, the carriage drove up to the milliner's, and while Lady Frances was standing before a mirror trying on an Opera hat, Lord Bellamont came in: he had seen her carriage and followed her thither.

"Dear me," cried Lady Frances to her sister, "how provoking! here is Lord Bellamont just when I do not want him." At the same time, she put on her most engaging smile when he approached, saying:

“Ah! you are just come to assist me in my decision-shall I take this Berri? or this hat with the drooping feathers ?" and she tried them on successively: "which do you think prettiest?" turning to him with a sweet, deferential look.