Maria Edgeworth （b. 1767,d. 1849） was born near Reading. Berkshire,England. In 1782 her father removed with his family tEdgeworthtown,Ireland,treside on his estate. She lived here during the remainder of her life,with the exception of occasional short visits tEngland,Scotland,and France. She was educated principally by her father,and they were colaborers in literary productions,among which were "Essays on Practical Education," and the "Parent‘s Assistant." Her novels and tales were written without assistance,and her fame as a writer rests on them. The best known of these are "Castle Rackrent," "Moral Tales," "Tales of Fashionable Life," "Frank," "The Modern Griselda," and "Helen." Miss Edgeworth excels in the truthful delineation of character,and her works are full of practical good sense and genuine humor.
Mrs. Bollingbroke. I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning. Why dyou keep the newspaper all tyourself,my dear?
Mr. Bolingbroke. Here it is for you,my dear;I have finished it.
Mrs. B. I humbly thank you for giving it tme when you have done with it. I hate stale news. Is there anything in the paper? for I can not be at the trouble of hunting it.
Mr. B. Yes,my dear;there are the marriages of twof our friends.
Mrs.B. Who? Who?
Mr. B. Your friend,the widow Nettleby,ther cousin John Nettleby.
Mrs. B. Mrs. Nettleby? Dear! But why did you tell me?
Mr. B. Because you asked me,my dear.
Mrs. B. Oh,but it is a hundred times pleasanter tread the paragraph one’s self. One loses all the pleasure of the surprise bybeing told. Well,whose was the other marriage?
Mr. B. Oh,my dear,I will not tell you;I will leave you the pleasure of the surprise.
Mrs. B. But you see I can not find it. How provoking you are,my dear! Dpray tell me.
Mr. B. Our friend Mr. Granby.
Mrs. B. Mr. Granby? Dear! Why did you not make me guess? I should have guessed him directly. But why dyou call him our friend? I am sure he is nfriend of mine,nor ever was. I took an aversion thim,as you remember,the very first day I saw him. I am sure he is nfriend of mine.
Mr. B. I am sorry for it,my dear;but I hope you will gand see Mrs. Granby.
Mrs. B. Not I,indeed,my dear. Whwas she?
Mr. B. Miss Cooke.
Mrs. B. Cooke ? But,there are smany Cookes. Can‘t you distinguish her any way? Has she nChristian name?
Mr. B. Emma,I think. Yes,Emma.
Mrs. B. Emma Cooke? No;it can not be my friend Emma Cooke;for I am sure she was cut out for an old maid.
Mr. B. This lady seems tme tbe cut out for a good wife.
Mrs. B. Maybe so. I am sure I’ll never gtsee her. Pray,my dear,how came you tsee smuch of her?
Mr. B. I have seen very little of her,my dear. I only saw her twor three times before she was married.
Mrs. B. Then,my dear,how could you decide that she was cut out for a good wife? I am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only twor three times,and before she was married.
Mr. B. Indeed,my love,that is a very just observation.
Mrs. B. I understand that compliment perfectly,and thank you for it,my dear. I must own I can bear anything better than irony1.
Mr. B. Irony? my dear,I was perfectly in earnest.
1Irony,language intended tconvey a meaning contrary tits literal signification.
Mrs. B. Yes,yes;in earnest;sI perceive;I may naturally be dull of apprehension,but my feelings are quick enough;I comprehend towell. Yes,it is impossible tjudge of a woman before marriage,or tguess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from experience;you have been disappointed yourself,and repent your choice.
Mr. B. My dear,what did I say that was like this? Upon my word,I meant nsuch thing. I really was not thinking of you in the least.
Mrs. B. No,you never think of me now. I can easily believe that you were not thinking of me in the least.
Mr. B. But I said that only tprove tyou that I could not be thinking ill of you,my dear.
Mrs. B. But I would rather that you thought ill of me than that you should not think of me at all.
Mr. B. Well,my dear,I will even think ill of you if that will please you.
Mrs. B. Dyou laugh at me? When it comes tthis I am wretched indeed. Never man laughed at the woman he loved. As long as you had the slightest remains of love for me you could not make me an object of derision1;ridicule and love are incompatible2,absolutely incompatible. Well,I have done my best,my very best,tmake you happy,but in vain. I see I am not cut out tbe a good wife. Happy,happy Mrs. Granby!
Mr. B. Happy,I hope sincerely,that she will be with my friend;but my happiness must depend on you,my love;so,for my sake,if not for your own,be composed,and dnot torment yourself with such fancies.
Mrs. B. I dwonder whether this Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I‘ll gand see her directly;see her I must.
Mr. B. I am heartily glad of it,my dear;for I am sure a visit this wife will give my friend Granby real pleasure.
Mrs. B. I promise you,my dear,I dnot gtgive him pleasure,or you either,but tsatisfy my own curiosity.
1 Derision,the act of laughing at in contempt. 2 Incompatible,that can not exist together.