MRS. B.--To dine with my own son, I may take the liberty. How are my
grandchildren? my darling little Emily, is she well, Mrs. Prior?

LADY K. [aside].--Emily? why does she not call the child by her blessed
mother's name of Arabella? [To MRS. B.] ARABELLA is quite well, Mrs.
Bonnington. Mr. Squillings said it was nothing; only her grandmamma
Bonnington spoiling her, as usual. Mr. Bonnington and all your numerous
young folk are well, I hope?

MRS. B.--My family are all in perfect health, I thank you. Is Horace
come home from the city?

LADY K.--Goodness! there's the dinner-bell,--I must run to dress.

MRS. PRIOR.--Shall I come with you, dear Lady Kicklebury?

LADY K.--Not for worlds, my good Mrs. Prior. [Exit Lady K.]

MRS. PRIOR.--How do you do, my DEAR madam? Is dear Mr. Bonnington QUITE
well? What a sweet, sweet sermon he gave us last Sunday. I often say
to my girl, I must not go to hear Mr. Bonnington, I really must not, he
makes me cry so. Oh! he is a great and gifted man, and shall I not have
one glimpse of him?

MRS. B.--Saturday evening, my good Mrs. Prior. Don't you know that my
husband never goes out on Saturday, having his sermon to compose?

MRS. P.--Oh, those dear, dear sermons! Do you know, madam, that my
little Adolphus, for whom your son's bounty procured his place at