JUSTLY CRITICAL.
“Well, I am so glad it all came out right!” said Mrs.
Partington, wiping her eyes at the closing scene in
Sonnambula. “I confess,” continued she, “that it did
look agin the young woman to be found in the bed of
the strange gentleman; but she had her shoes and
clothes on, and, if the young man had really loved her,
he would n't have believed her to be guilty so soon, —
indeed, he would n't; for, depend upon it, if a young
man really loves a young woman, he will be the last to
believe anything to her decrepitude, and be the last to
cast her off. And them pheasants, too, — only think of
the sneaking way in which they come in to detect her,
as if it was their business, anyhow. I dare say none
of 'em was any better than they ought to be; and what
a to-do they made, to be sure, because they thought she
was guilty! O, I despise sich pretensiveness! And as
for the girl that made all the trouble, I could see that she
was enviable, and wanted the young man herself, and
did n't care any more about the virtoo of the thing than
the fifth wheel of a coach.” She here stopped, and thrust
the lorgnette that she had borrowed into its case, and
drew her shawl up about her neck; while Ike stood with
the blue umbrella at “present,” waiting for her to come
out of her seat.
