"I think I ought to know the age of my own daughter. She knows geography,
history, languages, and music; she argues correctly, and behaves in a
manner which is surprising in so young a child. All the ladies are in
love with her. I keep her at a school of design all day; she shews a
great taste for drawing. She dines with me on Sundays, and if you would
care to come to dinner next Sunday you will confess that I have not
exaggerated her capacities."

It was Monday. I said nothing, but I thought it strange that she did not
seem to consider that I was impatient to see my daughter. She should have
asked me to meet her at supper the following evening.

"You are just in time," said she, "to witness the last assembly of the
year; for in a few weeks all the nobility will leave town in order to
pass the summer in the country. I can't give you a ticket, as they are
only issued to the nobility, but you can come as my friend and keep close
to me. You will see everything. If I am asked who you are, I will say
that you have superintended the education of my son in Paris, and have
brought him back to me."

"You do me too much honour."

We continued talking till two o'clock in the morning, and she told me all
about the suit she had with Sir Frederick Fermer. He maintained that the
house she had built at a cost of ten thousand guineas belonged to him as
he had furnished the money. In equity he was right, but according to
English law wrong, for it was she who had paid the workmen, the
contractors, and the architect; it was she that had given and received
receipts, and signed all documents. The house, therefore, belonged to
her, and Fermer admitted as much; but he claimed the sum he had