JOHN.--I beg your pardon, Miss.

MISS P.--[sarcastically.] Do I disturb you, Howell?

JOHN.--Disturb! I have no right to say--a servant has no right to be
disturbed, but I hope I may be pardoned for venturing to look at
a volume in the libery, Miss, just in reference to a newspaper
harticle--that's all, Miss.

MISS P.--You are very fortunate in finding anything to interest you in
the paper, I'm sure.

JOHN.--Perhaps, Miss, you are not accustomed to political discussion,
and ignorant of--ah--I beg your pardon: a servant, I know, has no right
to speak. [Exit into dining-room, making a low bow.]

MISS PRIOR.--The coolness of some people is really quite extraordinary!
the airs they give themselves, the way in which they answer one, the
books they read! Montesquieu: "Esprit des Lois!" [takes book up which
J. has left on sofa.] I believe the man has actually taken this from the
shelf. I am sure Mr. Milliken, or her ladyship, never would. The other
day "Helvetius" was found in Mr. Howell's pantry, forsooth! It is
wonderful how he picked up French whilst we were abroad. "Esprit des
Lois!" what is it? it must be dreadfully stupid. And as for reading
"Helvetius" (who, I suppose, was a Roman general), I really can't
understand how--Dear, dear! what airs these persons give themselves!
What will come next? A footman--I beg Mr. Howell's pardon--a butler
and confidential valet lolls on the drawing-room sofa, and reads
Montesquieu! Impudence! And add to this, he follows me for the last two
or three months with eyes that are quite horrid. What can the creature