While we were seated at a table covered with refreshments, one of the Misses Campion asked me, so suddenly, the ridiculous question, “Have you been out yet?” that though I have heard that it is the _technical_ phrase for being presented in the world, the more familiar meaning occurred to my mind, and, like an idiot, I answered, that I should think a walk round the grounds very pleasant. A loud and rude burst of laughter drew the attention of the company upon me, and would have overwhelmed me with confusion, if Mr. Bolton, who was sitting between me and my tormentor, had not, with the celerity of an arrow, upset a flask of Champagne into the lap of the fair follower of Diana, which produced such a prompt metamorphosis, as “turned the green one red” in an instant, and the laugh against her from me. The thing was done so adroitly, that it appeared accidental, and as no one was more busy than the _perpetrator_ in offering the most gallant commiseration, I never knew till two days after that I was thus indebted in a third instance to my faithful knight. We adjourned presently to a music-room, where harp and piano-forte, with all “means and appliances to boot,” challenged competition in a new form; and here another sad scene was exhibited. A charming Italian duet was asked for by Lord Thornborough, and Miss Campion, who was in the habit of singing the second, was called very authoritively by her mother to take her part: she was also to accompany on the piano-forte. With a cheerful alacrity which delighted me, as evincing, I thought, a sweet forgiving temper, she took her seat at the instrument; but the harmony was soon disturbed, for she had no sooner _landed_ her mother in a solo recitative, which the latter was singing to admiration, than, jumping up, overturning the music-desk, and rushing towards a window, she exclaimed, “Look at the eagle!” The company followed; and a crow, which had crossed the house, and was picking up worms in the lawn, was the only winged animal that presented itself to view. Peals of unmeaning laughter succeeded. Lady Campion was outrageous, and could scarcely preserve an appearance of decency; but as I felt how very irritating her daughter _intended_ to be, I begged Mrs. and Miss Fraser to come and make a little party at her side. We entreated her to excuse Miss Campion’s mistake, and to indulge us with a repetition of the delightful air in which she had been interrupted.