This question, however, cost Miss Leeson no more trouble than any which had preceded it, for she only replied, "Indeed I don't know."
Cecilia now began to sicken of her attempt, and for some minutes to give it up as hopeless; but afterwards when she reflected how frivolous were the questions she had asked, she felt more inclined to pardon the answers she had received, and in a short time to fancy she had mistaken contempt for stupidity, and to grow less angry with Miss Leeson than ashamed of herself.
This supposition excited her to make yet another trial of her talents for conversation, and therefore, summoning all the courage in her power, she modestly apologised for the liberty she was taking, and then begged her permission to enquire whether there was anything new in the literary way that she thought worth recommending?
Miss Leeson now turned her eyes towards her, with a look that implied a doubt whether she had heard right; and when the attentive attitude of Cecilia confirmed her question, surprise for a few instants took place of insensibility, and with rather more spirit than she had yet shown, she answered, "Indeed, I know nothing of the matter."
Cecilia was now utterly disconcerted; and half angry with herself, and wholly provoked with her sullen neighbour, she resolved to let nothing in future provoke her to a similar trial with so unpromising a subject.
She had not, however, much longer to endure the examination of Sir Robert, who being pretty well satisfied with staring, turned upon his heel, and was striding out of the room, when he was stopt by Mr Gosport, who for some time had been watching him.
Mr Gosport was a man of good parts, and keen satire: minute in his observations, and ironical in his expressions.
"So you don't play, Sir Robert?" he cried.
"What, here? No, I am going to Brookes's."
"But how do you like Harrel's ward? You have taken a pretty good survey of her."
"Why, faith, I don't know; but not much, I think; she's a devilish fine woman, too; but she has no spirit, no life."
"Did you try her? Have you talked to her?"
"Not I, truly!"
"Nay, then how do you mean to judge of her?"
"O, faith, that's all over, now; one never thinks of talking to the women by way of trying them."
"What other method, then, have you adopted?"
"None."
"None? Why, then, how do you go on?"
"Why, they talk to us. The women take all that trouble upon themselves now."
"And pray how long may you have commenced fade macaroni? For this is a part of your character with which I was not acquainted."