Once or twice he demolished this personage in argument, and was rewarded by finding himself more _de trop._ But one day Lady Barbara, being in a cousinly humor, expressed a wish to sail in his lordship's yacht, and this hint soon led to a party being organized, and a sort of picnic on the island of Inch Coombe; his lordship's cutter being the mode of conveyance to and from that spot. Now it happened on that very day Jean Carnie's marriage was celebrated on that very island by her relations and friends. So that we shall introduce our readers to THE RIVAL PICNICS. We begin with _Les gens comme il faut._ PICNIC NO. 1. The servants were employed in putting away dishes into hampers. There was a calm silence. “Hem!” observed Sir Henry Talbot. “Eh?” replied the Honorable Tom Hitherington. “Mamma,” said Miss Vere, “have you brought any work?” “No, my dear.” “At a picnic,” said Mr. Hitherington, “isn't it the thing for somebody--aw--to do something?” “Ipsden,” said Lady Barbara, “there is an understanding _between_ you and Mr. Hitherington. I condemn you to turn him into English.” “Yes, Lady Barbara; I'll tell you, he means---do you mean anything, Tom?” _Hitherington._ “Can't anybody guess what I mean?” _Lady Barbara._ “Guess first yourself, you can't be suspected of being in the secret.” _Hither._ “What I mean is, that people sing a song, or run races, or preach a sermon, or do something funny at a picnic--aw--somebody gets up and does something.” _Lady Bar._ “Then perhaps Miss Vere, whose singing is famous, will have the complaisance to sing to us.” _Miss Vere._ “I should be happy, Lady Barbara, but I have not brought my music.” _Lady Bar._ “Oh, we are not critical; the simplest air, or even a fragment of melody; the sea and the sky will be a better accompaniment than Broadwood ever made.” _Miss V._ “I can't sing a note without book.” _Sir H. Talbot._ “Your music is in your soul--not at your fingers' ends.” _Lord Ipsden, to Lady Bar._ “It is in her book, and not in her soul.” _Lady Bar., to Lord Ips._ “Then it has chosen the better situation of the two.” _Ips._ “Miss Vere is to the fine art of music what the engrossers are to the black art of law; it all filters through them without leaving any sediment; and so the music of the day passes through Miss Vere's mind, but none remains--to stain its virgin snow.” He bows, she smiles. _Lady Bar., to herself._ “Insolent. And the little dunce thinks he is complimenting her.” _Ips._ “Perhaps Talbot will come to our rescue--he is a fiddler.” _Tal._ “An amateur of the violin.” _Ips._ “It is all the same thing.” _Lady Bar._ “I wish it may prove so.” [Note: original has music notation here] _Miss V._ “Beautiful.” _Mrs. Vere._ “Charming.” _Hither._ “Superb!” _Ips._ “You are aware that good music is a thing to be wedded to immortal verse, shall I recite a bit of poetry to match Talbot's strain?” _Miss V._ “Oh, yes! how nice.”