"....do not you think Udolpho the nicest book in the world?"
"The nicest--by which I suppose you mean the neatest.That must depend upon the binding."
"Henry," said Miss Tilney, "you are very impertinent. Miss Morland,he is treating you exactly
as he does his sister.He is forever finding fault with me,for some incorrectness of language,and now he is taking the same liberty with you.The word 'nicest', as you used it,did not suit him;and you had better change it as soon as you can,or we shall be overpowered with Johnson and Blair all the rest of the way."
"I am sure," cried Catherine, "I did not mean to say anything wrong; but it is a nice book,and why should I not call it so?"
"Very true," said Henry, "and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk,and you are two very nice young ladies.Oh!It a very nice world indeed! It does for everything.Originally perhaps it was applied only to express neatness,propriety,delicacy or refinement--people were nice in their dress,in their sentiments,or their choice.But now every commendation on every subject is comprised in that one word."
"While,in fact," cried his sister, "it ought only to be applied to you,without any commendation at all.You are more nice than wise.Come Miss Morland, let us leave him to meditate over our faults in the utmost propriety of diction, while we praise Udolpho in whatever terms we like best."