These observations of Mr. Salter's about being the first of his family were, by the particular desire of his daughters, strictly confined to his own fireside. There was no occasion, they argued, to make any such confession in a place like Cheltenham, where nobody knew anything about people, but what they choose to say of themselves. Accordingly, they made family their constant theme; and inquired with the most consequential airs about the connections of every one they heard named; always winding up their harangue by observing, that of course it was very natural for a man like their father, of such an ancient and highly respectable family, to be very particular about who they visited, particularly in those sorts of places where people of every description congregated. "It's no harm, you know," said Miss Salter to her sister, "to have the name of being particular, it makes people of consequence; at the same time I'd have us get acquainted with every creature we can, and go everywhere; there's no knowing where one might find one's luck." "Talking of luck," answered Grace, "I read in one of the new novels the other day, that 'luck knocks once at every one's door;' I wish it would knock once at mine, I know, and it shouldn't have to knock again." "And, by-the-by, was it quite prudent of us, on your plan, to cut Mrs. Dorothea Arden as we have done?" "Oh, yes; what's the use of an old maid, she can have no sons, you know; besides, we didn't cut her till Lady Whaleworthy, and Lady Flamborough, and Lady Shawbridge, and all of them, had called; and then I thought we could spare such old lumber as Mrs. Dorothea." "Why, to be sure, as you say, she can have no sons; indeed I never even heard her speak of a brother or a nephew; and as to her expecting this Lady Arden that she is always talking about, I am sure its nothing but a boast." "Nothing more you may be certain! And then I was afraid my father would have taken a fancy to her at last, for he was always saying, she was a fine woman for her years." "She was very useful however at first," said Grace. "Oh yes she was, certainly," replied Miss Salter, "but now you know we don't want her." CHAPTER V. Lady Arden, leaning on her son Alfred, her eldest daughter on the other side, her two younger following, had just entered the ballroom at Almacks. The sisters, we have already said, were beautiful. They were all above the middle height, and finely formed; remarkably fair, with brilliant complexions, and very beautiful light brown hair. Jane, the eldest, had her mother's amiable, mild, regular features, and soft, modest, hazel eyes.