'But, Lizzie, what would become of the world if there was no
society?' said Katherine.

'And, Lizzie,' began Helen, very seriously, 'do not you know that it
is a duty to take part in society, that--'

'Oh yes, Helen!' answered Elizabeth; 'I know all that books and wise
people say; but what I say is this: if a sumptuary law could decree
that wits should be measured by one standard, like the ruffs and
rapiers in Queen Elizabeth's time, so that those found wanting might
be banished, there might be some use in meeting people; but in the
present state of things there is none.'

'But how would you choose your standard?' said Anne; 'everyone would
take their own degree of sense as a measure.'

'Let them,' said Elizabeth; 'there would be a set of measures like
the bolters in a mill, one for the pastry-flour, one for the bread-
flour, one for the blues, one for the bran.'

'I am glad you put the blues after the bread,' said Anne; 'there is
hope of you yet, Lizzie.'

Elizabeth was too far advanced in her career of nonsense to be easily
checked, even by Anne; and she continued, 'Sir Walter Scott says in
one of his letters, that he wishes there could be a whole village of
poets and antiquaries isolated from the rest of the world. That must
be like what I mean.'