"I don't know much about it, Patient," said Celia, honestly. "I have been taught to believe that King Charles was a good and misfortunate man. But now I can hardly tell what to believe among you all. My--Squire Passmore thinks that King Charles was a good man and a martyr, yet calls this man the Pretender, and will scarce hear him named with patience. My step-mother thinks them both good; and you think them both bad. I cannot tell what to think." Celia came from the window as Lady Ingram entered the room. "Patient," she said, "lay out Mrs. Celia's new court-dress on the bed--you know which it is. My dear, this afternoon I will lead you to kiss the Queen's hand. Your manners are slightly improved, and I wish you to show respect to the Court." "Very well, Madam," resignedly answered Celia. "You will enter behind me; stop, and go forward, when I do. When I draw aside, come forward, kneel, and kiss the Queen's hand when she offers it. Should she speak to you, remain kneeling while you answer, unless she command you to rise. If she do not speak, rise, draw to one side, as I shall have done, and stand there." "Yes, Madam." "Do not look about you: keep your eyes on the Queen. Don't look awkward. Be self-possessed." "I will do my best, Madam." Lady Ingram tapped Celia's cheek with her fan, a sign, that she was unusually gracious. "Be ready in an hour," she said, and departed. Thérèse came next to dress Celia's hair. Patient, in solemn and evidently disapproving silence, helped her to dress. She found herself, when the process was over, in a quilted pink satin petticoat, a bodice and train of white satin, trimmed with gold braid, white satin shoes, long white gloves, pearl necklace and bracelets: her hair was dressed very high, and adorned with pink roses and pearls. As Celia looked at herself in the glass, she felt much inclined to sing with the celebrated little old woman, "Sure this is none of I!" but much time was not allowed her for the indulgence of that feeling. "Your servant, Madam!" observed Philip's voice in the corridor, accompanied by a tap at the door. "Don't keep us waiting, please,--we shall be very cross if you do. I protest! aren't you smart!" Mr. Philip himself was scarcely less so. He wore a light blue coat embroidered in gold, a white satin waistcoat and breeches, white silk stockings, and white satin shoes with large rosettes. In the drawing-room stood Lady Ingram, attired in white and gold. "Turn round!" was her greeting to Celia and Philip. "Nonsense, not you!" as Philip made a _pirouette_ in answer. "That will do. Now, follow me; and whatever you feel, don't look awkward or afraid."