and still, to Mrs. Wewitz’s great horror, those “filthy, hairy monsters of Frenchmen” remained located in the best bed-room. She had tried entreaties, threats, compliments, and abuse—everything by turns, and nothing long—but still all her efforts had been in vain. Unfortunately, she had, in an unguarded moment, revealed to the Count de Sanschemise (who had returned to Parthenon House after a short mysterious absence), that she required the room which he and his friends occupied, as the young ladies of the school would arrive in the course of a few days; but the Count no sooner heard the news than he declared, in as good English as he was master of, that he always understood the apartment had been let to him and his friends for a twelvemonth, and that he could not think of leaving under a quarter’s notice. This so terrified the poor old lady, that knowing the partiality of the younger members of her own sex for those “impudent wretches of Frenchmen,” and having had proof positive, in the case of Ann Lightfoot and her mistress, “poor dear Mrs. Sandboys,” that the Frenchmen were similarly inclined towards the ladies, she thought it would be better, under all the circumstances, to acquaint her daughter with the worst. Now, it so happened that Miss Wewitz was at this period on a visit with Miss Chutney (an East Indian pupil, who had been sent over from Quilon by her parents to be educated in England) to one of her dear, good girls, a parlour boarder, who loved Miss Chutney with “something more than a sister’s love.” Miss Wewitz was partaking of a dish of macaroni boiled in milk, by way of a slight lunch, when the letter from her respected parent arrived, informing her of what had happened. The lady, so that her macaroni might not grow cold while she read the epistle, placed it by her side on the table, and swallowed a spoonful and a sentence at one and the same time. She was in the act of swallowing one of the long, limp, white tubes that she had fished out of the basin with her spoon, when her eye fell upon the passage which informed her that the bed-room of her first class was occupied by a colony of Frenchmen, and that they had resolutely refused to quit the premises. In the horror of the moment, she gave a gasp, and instantly the long slippery tube was hurried down her throat so rapidly and unexpectedly, that what with her anguish and the macaroni, she was nearly choked on the spot. Her two “dear girls,” seeing Miss Wewitz turn a light plum colour in the face, immediately flew to her aid, and by dint of several severe thumps on the back, ultimately succeeded in shaking the macaroni down the lady’s throat.