"Opening wide the door, He came,-- But I could not speak His name; In the guest-chair took His place,-- Though I could not see His face: When my cheerful fire was beaming, When my little lamp was gleaming, And the feast was spread for three,-- Lo! my Master Was the Guest that supped with me. HARRIET M'EWEN KIMBALL. Grand beyond expression was Madam Passmore that Monday afternoon whereon her party was held. Her hair stood at the very least six inches above her head. Her petticoat was of crimson quilted satin, and she wore a yellow satin gown, edged with rich old point-lace. Large silver buckles decorated her shoes, and a lace _cornette_ was perched upon the summit of her hair. A splendid fan, and a handkerchief nearly all lace, shared her left hand; and in her pocket, alas! dwelt a silver snuff-box. Her four daughters were dressed alike, in their blue satin petticoats and brocaded trains, with coral necklaces, and cherry-colored top-knots of ribbon instead of _cornettes_ stood on the summit of their hair. They also displayed fans, Isabella making all manner of use of hers, and held handkerchiefs not quite so elaborate as their mother's. Their trains were not gathered up this evening, so that when they walked a grand display of brocade was made on the floor. About four o'clock, Dr. Braithwaite and his wife made their appearance. Mrs. Braithwaite was a modest, retiring little woman, holding in high reverence her big learned husband, but the fact of being constantly kept under the sound of quotations which she did not understand, gave her a scared, bewildered look which did not improve her countenance. She was quietly dressed in black, with lace tucker and ruffles, and a white top-knot on her hair, which, in comparison with that of Madam Passmore, was dressed quite low. "Good-even, Madam, and the young ladies!" said Mrs. Braithwaite, courtesying nervously. "I hope I see you well in health?" "Madam," said the Doctor, bowing low over the hand which Madam Passmore extended to him, "that most marvellous and mellifluent writer of poesy, of whom among the Grecian dramatists the fame hath transcended"-- "Squire and Madam Harvey!" said Robert, in a tone which drowned the Doctor's elaborate Greek compliment.