We have said that these two sisters were very much alike. Mrs. Hilson, however, was the most distinguished of the two, for she carried the family follies several degrees farther than Miss Emmeline. Taken altogether, she was an absurd compound. Personally, she was thoroughly American, very pretty and delicate in form and features, and thus far appeared to great advantage; but she had, also, an affected mincing manner, and drawling voice. Of course, her dress was as Parisian as possible; everything she wore was a faithful copy from "Le Courier des Dames." Her feelings and opinions; Mrs. Hilson was proud to call English in the extreme, for she had chosen to imbibe a great love of "aristocracy," and many other things which she did not in the least understand. She had a set of common-place phrases of this description in constant use, having borrowed them from an intimate friend, living in the same boarding-house, a Mrs. Bagman, an Englishwoman, of a very equivocal position. Then, she read nothing but English novels; these were her only source of amusement and instruction in the way of books; and as she followed the example of Mrs. Bagman, in rejecting every tale that had not its due share of lords and ladies, she called herself fastidious in the selection. She was a great talker, and not a day passed but what cockney sentiments fell from her pretty little mouth, in drawling tones, from under a fanciful Parisian coiffure. John Bull would have stared, however, if called upon to acknowledge her as a daughter; for Yankee vulgarity and English vulgarity are very different in character--the first having the most pretension, the last the most coarseness. These ladies had scarcely driven from the door, before Mrs. Wyllys exclaimed: "Is it possible, Agnes, that these Hubbards are a good specimen of the Longbridge people!" "No, indeed; one such family is quite enough for any place." "How ridiculous they are! How can you tolerate them?" "Now, pray, Aunt Agnes," said Elinor, "do not say one word in their favour." "No; as regards the ladies of the family, one can say little. They are not perhaps, by nature, as ridiculous as they have made themselves. Time may do something for them. But their father is a very worthy, respectable man; you must have seen him at our house last summer. Don't you remember one day two uncles of Patsey Hubbard dining with us?" "Yes, I do remember them; one Charles Hubbard called Uncle Josey {sic}, and he seemed quite a sensible man; the other fell asleep I know, the one they called Uncle Dozie." "The napping uncle is the old bachelor; Uncle Josie is the father of these ladies." "He seemed a sensible man; how came he to have such daughters?" "They are very like their mother, who died a year or two since." "They are very disagreeable, certainly. How often shall we be required to encounter this desperate elegance? I almost begin to repent having fixed myself at Longbridge."