"Why didn't you try a bit of German, too?" muttered Litton, as her ladyship passed on. "Here, I must get on with some of these officers; perhaps they'd take me to their quarters, and give me a smoke and an S. and B. Hang this tea! I forgot, though, I promised Potiphar to go home with him. Hang the beast! but it will save me a fare." Everyone was delighted. Lady Littletown was charmed over and over again, but when at last an obsequious footman, who seemed to be shod with velvet, whispered to the Honourable Philippa that her carriage had arrived, that lady, who felt very tired and sleepy, said mentally, "Thank goodness!" But it was half an hour later before she made a move, and the drawing-rooms were growing unbearably hot with the chattering, buzzing crowd. Suddenly there was silence, as the Honourable Misses Dymcox rose to go. Lady Littletown was so sorry the evening had been so short, but she managed to exchange meaning looks. "I think, yes," she whispered; and the Honourable Philippa nodded and tightened her lips. "Good-night, my sweet darling," said Lady Littletown, kissing Clotilde affectionately. "Mind you come and see me soon. Good-night, dearest Marie. How well you look to-night, child!" Then her ladyship saw through her square eyeglass, with the broad chased gold rim, Elbraham, podgy, stout and puffy, take Clotilde down to the carriage, followed by Lord Henry with Marie, and Captain Glen with the Honourable Isabella, and little Richard Millet with the Honourable Philippa; everyone but Joseph being perfectly ignorant of the fact that Mr Buddy had been imbibing largely of the stimulants plentifully handed round to the various servants outside. But the ladies were duly packed inside, the jangling door was banged to, and Joseph, having mounted to the box beside Mr Buddy, perhaps only out of regard for his own safety, assumed the reins of government himself, and steered the fly to the Palace doors. "Good-night, children," said the Honourable Misses Dymcox in duet. "Take care of your dresses whatever you do!" "Oh, Rie!" cried Clotilde, as soon as they were in their bedroom. "Oh, Clo!" cried Marie. Then, crossing to the farther door to the cupboard in which Ruth's bed was squeezed--"'Sleep, Ruthy?" "No, Marie," was the reply, as a troubled, pale face was lifted from the pillow. "Why, I declare she has been crying!" said Clotilde. "There, jump up and help us to undress, Cindy, and we'll tell you all about the prince and the ball. You weren't there, were you?" No; Cinderella, otherwise Ruth Allerton, had not been there; but she had been crying bitterly, for she had had a fright. Volume 1, Chapter XI. FAMILY MATTERS. Captain Robert Millet's lunch was carried up to him upon a very stiff, narrow tray, which took dishes and plates one after the other in a long row. It was evidently something or several somethings very savoury and nice from the odours exhaled, but everything was carefully covered over.