'
'Well, my dear, you know I am no judge of poetry. But if you are
pleased, I am quite content. There is a knock. Some of your friends.
I am off. I say, Gertrude, be kind to old Masham, that is a dear
creature!'
Her ladyship extended her hand, to which his lordship pressed his
lips, and just effected his escape as the servant announced a visitor,
in the person of Mr. Horace Pole.
'Oh! my dear Mr. Pole, I am quite exhausted,' said her ladyship; 'I am
reading Cadurcis' new poem; it will not he published till to-morrow,
and it really has destroyed my nerves. I have got people to dinner
to-day, and I am sure I shall not be able to encounter them.'
'Something outrageous, I suppose,' said Mr. Pole, with a sneer. 'I
wish Cadurcis would study Pope.'
'Study Pope! My dear Mr. Pole, you have no imagination.'
'No, I have not, thank Heaven!' drawled out Mr. Pole.
'Well, do not let us have a quarrel about Cadurcis,' said Lady
Monteagle. 'All you men are jealous of him.'
'And some of you women, I think, too,' said Mr. Pole.
Lady Monteagle faintly smiled.
'Poor Cadurcis!' she exclaimed; 'he has a very hard life of it. He
complains bitterly that so many women are in love with him. But then
he is such an interesting creature, what can he expect?'
'Interesting!' exclaimed Mr.
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