girl, 'we were remarking what a very mysterious man you are.' 'Ay,
ay!' observes Mr. Fairfax, 'Indeed!' Now Mr. Fairfax says this ay,
ay, and indeed, which are slight words enough in themselves, with
so very unfathomable an air, and accompanies them with such a very
equivocal smile, that ma and the young ladies are more than ever
convinced that he means an immensity, and so tell him he is a very
dangerous man, and seems to be always thinking ill of somebody,
which is precisely the sort of character the censorious young
gentleman is most desirous to establish; wherefore he says, 'Oh,
dear, no,' in a tone, obviously intended to mean, 'You have me
there,' and which gives them to understand that they have hit the
right nail on the very centre of its head.

When the conversation ranges from the mystery overhanging the
censorious young gentleman's behaviour, to the general topics of
the day, he sustains his character to admiration. He considers the
new tragedy well enough for a new tragedy, but Lord bless us-well,
no matter; he could say a great deal on that point, but he would
rather not, lest he should be thought ill-natured, as he knows he
would be. 'But is not Mr. So-and-so's performance truly charming?'
inquires a young lady. 'Charming!' replies the censorious young
gentleman. 'Oh, dear, yes, certainly; very charming-oh, very
charming indeed.' After this, he stirs the fire, smiling
contemptuously all the while: and a modest young gentleman, who
has been a silent listener, thinks what a great thing it must be,
to have such a critical judgment. Of music, pictures, books, and
poetry, the censorious young gentleman has an equally fine
conception. As to men and women, he can tell all about them at a
glance. 'Now let us hear your opinion of young Mrs. Barker,' says
some great believer in the powers of Mr. Fairfax, 'but don't be too