It will be seen that the Billickin now openly pitted herself against Miss Twinkleton, as one whom she had fully ascertained to be her natural enemy.
“Your remarks,” returned Miss Twinkleton, from a remote moral eminence, “are well meant, I have no doubt; but you will permit me to observe that they develop a mistaken view of the subject, which can only be imputed to your extreme want of accurate information.”
“My informiation,” retorted the Billickin, throwing in an extra syllable for the sake of emphasis at once polite and powerful—“my informiation, Miss Twinkleton, were my own experience, which I believe is usually considered to be good guidance. But whether so or not, I was put in youth to a very genteel boarding-school, the mistress being no less a lady than yourself, of about your own age or it may be some years younger, and a poorness of blood flowed from the table which has run through my life.”
“Very likely,” said Miss Twinkleton, still from her distant eminence; “and very much to be deplored.—Rosa, my dear, how are you getting on with your work?”
“Miss Twinkleton,” resumed the Billickin, in a courtly manner, “before retiring on the Int, as a lady should, I wish to ask of yourself as a lady, whether I am to consider that my words is doubted?”
“I am not aware on what ground you cherish such a supposition,” began Miss Twinkleton, when the Billickin neatly stopped her.