Lady Chillingly’s letters were much longer. They dwelt more complainingly on his persistence in eccentric habits; so exceedingly unlike other people, quitting London at the very height of the season, going without even a servant nobody knew where: she did not wish to wound his feelings; but still those were not the ways natural to a young gentleman of station. If he had no respect for himself, he ought to have some consideration for his parents, especially his poor mother. She then proceeded to comment on the elegant manners of Leopold Travers, and the good sense and pleasant conversation of Chillingly Gordon, a young man of whom any mother might be proud. From that subject she diverged to mildly querulous references to family matters. Parson John had expressed himself very rudely to Mr. Chillingly Gordon upon some book by a foreigner,--Comte or Count, or some such name,--on which, so far as she could pretend to judge, Mr. Gordon had uttered some very benevolent sentiments about humanity, which, in the most insolent manner, Parson John had denounced as an attack on religion. But really Parson John was too High Church for her. Having thus disposed of Parson John, she indulged some ladylike wailings on the singular costume of the three Miss Chillinglys. They had been asked by Sir Peter, unknown to her--so like him--to meet their guests; to meet Lady Glenalvon and Miss Travers, whose dress was so perfect (here she described their dress); and they came in pea-green with pelerines of mock blonde, and Miss Sally with corkscrew ringlets and a wreath of jessamine, “which no girl after eighteen would venture to wear.” “But, my dear,” added her ladyship, “your poor father’s family are certainly great oddities. I have more to put up with than any one knows. I do my best to carry it off. I know my duties, and will do them.” Family grievances thus duly recorded and lamented, Lady Chillingly returned to her guests. Evidently unconscious of her husband’s designs on Cecilia, she dismissed her briefly: “A very handsome young lady, though rather too blonde for her taste, and certainly with an air _distingue_.” Lastly, she enlarged on the extreme pleasure she felt on meeting again the friend of her youth, Lady Glenalvon. “Not at all spoilt by the education of the great world, which, alas! obedient to the duties of wife and mother, however little my sacrifices are appreciated, I have long since relinquished. Lady Glenalvon suggests turning that hideous old moat into a fernery,--a great improvement. Of course your poor father makes objections.” Tom’s letter was written on black-edged paper, and ran thus:--