“Ain’t it?” responded Lady Sundon, with animation. “I often tell him so. There! Harry, do you hear that?” “Captain Fane is obliged to you for telling me and the world what he takes such pains to hide under a bushel,” remarked Mrs. Lascelles; “but Lady Kitty is like myself,—she don’t much affect books and maps.” “No more do I,” said Lady Sundon cordially; “and I wish Harry would throw them aside, and cultivate company manners.” “La! you know you don’t practise what you preach,” objected Miss Sundon, who had been engrossed with admiration of Mrs. Lascelles and Sir George, but who felt that it was time to vindicate the superior delicacy of herself and her sister from any suspicion of complicity with Lady Sundon’s breezy vigour. “You are always professing to sister and me, Lady Sundon, when we try to hold you again, to get you to be quiet, and to adopt that repose which is so necessary and becoming to a delicate female—that you despise company manners.” “Because I ain’t a delicate female, child, and I am your father’s wife, the mistress of you and Lyddy and the whole house, as I can tell all concerned,” said Lady Sundon a little indignantly. “If I were a bad mistress of Sir Peter’s family you would not venture to speak so to me; therefore, I can well afford to let your foolish tongue wag without minding it,” continued Lady Sundon, rapidly cooling down and recovering her habitual good humour. “Besides, can’t you see that I am too old to learn company manners, as I am too old to improve my mind, which I was telling you t’other day, Lady Bell?” “Don’t learn anything that is foreign to you, dear Lady Sundon.” Lady Bell forbade any change. “Be always yourself, your best self.” “And I shall crave leave, without any permission granted,” spoke up Captain Fane, “to remain myself, even my worst self, rather than take a leaf out of another man’s book, say Sir George Waring’s.” “Sir, I am honoured by figuring as your example.” Sir George nodded slightly, and took snuff. Lady Bell was vexed by the turn the conversation was taking, and the utter want of harmony in her company. Of what good the clear, curling water, the precocious spring weather, the delightful gliding motion of the boat which the rowers were sending along so smoothly to green Richmond and Hampton—if quarrelling were the order of the day? Mrs. Lascelles might not dislike it at the expense of Lady Bell and her host’s family, because it would form a tit-bit of conversation to retail, well spiced and served hot, in the next party which Mrs. Lascelles should enter.