He is going to take mamma and me to see some pictures somewhere. I hate seeing pictures; they bore me dreadfully. After Lady Crutchley's, we went to Mrs. Croley's amateur concert, which was nearly over. She had only classical music. I don't know what classical music is; I only know it bores me dreadfully. Ashton Howard says the same people who like classical music buy old china and wear false hair. I wish people would give up classical music. It never amuses anybody--that is, anybody worth amusing. I don't know whether "The Huguenots" is classical music or not; I only know that when they give it at the Royal Italian Opera nobody seems bored _then_. I don't know that I am exactly.'" Whether in these boxes full of beauties one amongst them is intended by Leech to personate Mr. Smith's "dreadfully bored" young lady, I cannot say. Certainly there is not one who seems in the condition described as not being "exactly bored." The Belle of Hyde Park continues: "'I go into the Park every day with mamma, but it bores me dreadfully. I see nothing but the same people, and I know all the trees and rails by heart. I ride sometimes; I like it better than the carriage. But papa don't ride very often; and if he don't I can't, except with the Pevenseys and their brothers. John Pevensey is very stupid, and talks to me about farming. I get very tired; but I am obliged to go, because the Pevenseys know so many receivable people. But they bore me dreadfully; in fact, I don't know who or what does not. I long for the season to be over; and when I go into the country, I long for it to begin again. I wish I could do as I pleased, like Marshall--that's my maid--when she has a holiday. She is going to marry the man at the hairdresser's; and last Sunday they went down all by themselves to Gravesend. I see mamma's face if Ashton Howard was to propose to take me to Gravesend next Sunday, and without Lady Banner! I wish sometimes I was Marshall. Now and then I would give a good deal for a good cry. I can't tell you why--I don't know; only that everything is a trouble, and bores me dreadfully.'" In reply to further inquiries from Mr. Smith, the young lady tells him what she pays for her satin shoes, which are worn out after two parties. Does she have her gloves cleaned? "'Certainly; but not for evening parties--the men's coats blacken them in an instant. They do very well for the opera and evening concerts--nothing else. The Pevenseys wear cleaned gloves. Everybody knows it; and Ashton Howard always asks out loud if a camphine-lamp has gone out when they come into the room. You can get a nice bouquet for five or six shillings. Old Mr. Rigby, in the Regent's Park, told me I might cut any flowers from his conservatory. But I don't care for that--I would sooner buy them; he bores me dreadfully.'"