It seemed as if the advent of the warm-hearted, practical little artist had broken the sad depressing spell which had been gathering closer and closer round her spirit since she had left A----. Winter was a stout and active pedestrian, and leaning on his arm, Kate bade defiance to the most persevering and mysterious stranger that ever crossed heroine's path. The Colonel too was wonderfully revived by the presence of his kind and valued friends, and, strange to say, even Cormac, who when left at A---- was too savage to be approached by his temporary keeper, was most sociable and condescending with him in London. One morning, Mr. Langley called, and after sitting in a sort of preoccupied silence for some time, with some hesitation and much awkwardness, suggested that he wished to invite his friend Winter and his wife to dinner, and as the Colonel and Miss Vernon were so fond of their society, perhaps they would consent to encounter the discomfort of a bachelor's _ménage_ and meet them. The Colonel and Kate assented most graciously, and the party, reinforced by Galliard and Mr. and Mrs. Story, met the next day at what Winter termed "grub hour." Contrary to her expectations Kate spent a most agreeable day; Langley, like many shy persons, shone in his own house, Winter was most amusingly argumentative, Galliard witty, and the Colonel cheerful and urbane as usual; while Mrs. Storey's repeated apologies for the irregularities of a bachelor's _ménage_, and Mr. Winter's reiterated assurances that every thing was in admirable order, kept up an under current of polite common-place, that amused Kate exceedingly, by its contrast to the prevailing tone of the conversation. "You have visited the British Museum?" enquired Galliard. "Only, once," said Kate, "and that hurriedly, I long to go again." "There is a great lot of trash there," observed Winter. "What treason," returned Galliard, "it has all cost money, and John Bull is content." "Of course," said Langley, "you will have your sneer at John Bull." "Why not? I am, you know, half English." "Come, Mr. Langley," said Kate, "the English you will admit, are not very sparing of their neighbours." "They do not make much allowance for any peculiarities, except their own, certainly," remarked Colonel Vernon. "You are in such a decided minority, you Celts, you had better hold your tongues," cried Winter. "But what is it you call trash, at the British Museum?" asked Kate. "Oh, the mummies, and the wigs, and all that; such an _embarras_ of mummies can hardly be conceived!" said Winter. "I wish we could bring the Gheber mode of disposing of the dead into fashion again; I shall certainly leave a clause in my will that my body shall be burned," observed Galliard. "Law, Mr. Galliard, what an idea," said Mrs. Storey. "Why not? my dear madam." "I always liked Zoroaster and the fire worshippers," said Kate, "their system appears to me the least degrading of all ancient religions."