Friendship and Folly: The Merriweather Chronicles Book I by Meredith Allady Page A

the by. I have reason to believe that Sir Warrington finds my manner intimidating, if you can credit such a thing; but his brother is a sensible man, and capable of appreciating a young lady’s conversation, even if she does not agree with him on every point of interest. Besides, any one who can earn the enmity of such as Miss P_____y in a meeting of less than five minutes, must recommend himself to me as a matter of course.”
    Ann, now completely vanquished by curiosity, requested particulars, but these Miss Spenhope was regretfully unable to provide.
    “No one is quite certain just what did occur. The introduction was made, they both murmured the accepted phrases--and Sir Warrington never sought her out again. It was very disheartening for all the pretty young ladies, who had flattered themselves with the hope that his search had come to an end.”
    Ann herself hoped, with misgiving, that Sir Warrington would not (though one could hardly blame him) decide that his search had ended with Julia. “Has no one told him,” she asked, “that one dance, or even two, is not commonly thought sufficient time in which to judge of a person’s merits?”
    “It is clear,” replied her companion, archly, “that you have yourself not yet been privileged to dance with Sir Warrington. He has evolved his own method of eliminating the unfit, and puts his partner through such a rigorous catechism during that one dance, that he may be pardoned for feeling that he has nothing more to learn about her, and therefore no reason ever to meet her again. It begins the moment he has her fairly to himself--or as fairly as a dance permits. Do you like horses, Miss Nameless? Dogs? Cats? Catholics? Peep-o’-day Boys? Fishing? Riding? Hunting? Books? Dancing? Hens? Pigs? Ireland? The list ends only with the set, and if the lady is not altogether sure of her preferences, she is pressed to give a reason for her indecision, until she is convinced of only one thing: that whatever her sentiments on pigs and Ireland, there is no doubt of her hearty dislike of Sir Warrington!”
    “He must indeed be an idiot!” said Ann, trying not to laugh. “Perhaps his family has never heard ‘How much a dunce that has been kept at home, Excels a dunce that has been sent to roam’! Such persons are much better kept decently in the country, where they cannot pester defenseless females with their notions of polite conversation.”
    Ann was thinking only of Julia, forced to spend an endless half-hour struggling to disentangle English words from the undergrowth of Sir Warrington’s brogue, in order to answer a host of senseless questions; her bewilderment was great, therefore, when Miss Spenhope’s countenance, from showing the animation of a witty woman given the opportunity to exercise her wit, became at once closed and stern. She uttered a few chilly words of excuse, and then walked away, leaving Ann in a draught of disapproval. For such a person as Miss Spenhope to have taken offense, Ann knew her comments must have sounded cruel indeed, and she blushed deeply for the thoughtlessly spoken words.
    **

Chapter XII

    In her mortification--“Nothing makes one look sillier than a pleasantry not relished or not understood”--Ann retired to the safety of a chair, and the company of Lady Thomasin, whose talent for self-perpetuated conversations enabled her to recover her composure unnoticed. As Lady Thomasin sustained the flow of her speech by expounding on every thought that flitted across her mind, it was not long before, observing her great-niece’s partner, she began to talk about him . On the subject of his social and mental deficiencies she was either reticent or ignorant, but as the history and fortune of every one in society is considered the lawful property of every one else, and the possession of such knowledge the duty of every responsible parent, she did not scruple to tell her companion all that was known.
    Ann was still at the stage of her embarrassment