"If you are speaking of the best people in each country, however," said Mr. Wyllys; "that is not the surest way of judging national character. We must take the average." "I am aware of that, sir." "At any rate, you don't seem to have liked this Mr. Ellery," said Elinor. "Not in the least; I used to think him excessively impertinent," exclaimed Harry, and as his choler rose, while certain recollections passed through his mind, he coloured again. To change the subject, he took up the bag the young ladies had been admiring. "What fanciful name may belong to this piece of finery; for, of course, it is not a bag?" he asked. "Oh, it is too useful, not to have a straight-forward, common name; you may call it a sac, though, if you like. I could not think of anything more imaginative; can you, Jane?" "I dare say, there is another name; but I have forgotten it; everything has a name of its own, in Paris." "Your table looks like a fancy-shop, Aunt Agnes," continued Hazlehurst; "gloves, bags, purses, boxes, muslins, portfolios, and twenty other things, jumbled together." "What sort of wood is the work-box that you chose for Miss Patsey?" asked Elinor. "I am very glad you thought of her." "Harry does not seem to have forgotten any of his friends, while in Paris," said Miss Agnes. Hazlehurst looked down. "It is some dark wood; not rose-wood, however. It is rather plain; but a serviceable-looking box," he said. "Just the thing for Miss Patsey," observed Elinor. "Here, Elinor," said Jane, "is the cape I spoke of;" and she unfolded a paper, and drew from it a piece of muslin which had evidently received a very pretty shape, fine embroidery, and tasteful bows of riband from some Parisian hand. "This is the one I spoke of.--Is it not much prettier than any you have seen?" Elinor received the cape from her cousin, who was unusually animated in its praises; it was held up to the light; then laid on the table; the delicacy of the work was admired; then the form, and the ribands; and, at last, Elinor threw it over Jane's shoulders, observing, at the same time, that it was particularly becoming to her. Harry seemed determined not to look; and, in order to resist any inclination he may have felt, to do so, he resolutely took up a Review, and began turning over its pages. The young ladies' admiration of the cape lasted several minutes, and, at length, Elinor called upon the rest of the party to admire how becoming it was. "Well, really," exclaimed Harry, looking rather cross, probably at being disturbed in his reading, "young ladies' love of finery seems quite inexhaustible; it is sometimes incomprehensible to the duller perceptions of the male sex." "Don't be saucy!" said Elinor. "Why, you can't deny the fact, that you and Jane have been doing nothing else, all the morning, but tumble over this Paris finery?" "I beg your pardon--we have been talking quite sensibly, too; have we not, Aunt Agnes?"