From the side of the barouche next the door descended Lord Eltondale, with as much activity as his unwieldy body would permit, encumbered as it was by an immense bang-up coat, which, by a moderate computation of the specific gravity of like solids, would in all probability have increased the weight of the ponderous carcase it enclosed to nearly that of his Lordship's own prize ox. With much less alacrity his fair spouse prepared to alight; an open pelisse, wrapped in a thousand folds, partially concealed her yet beautiful figure, while an enormous London _rustic_ bonnet, with the affectation of simplicity and the real stamp of fashion, equally disguised her face. During that time, Lord Eltondale, in no subdued tone of voice, was expressing his lively pleasure at meeting Sir Henry, almost dislocating Mrs. Galton's wrists with the fervency of salutation, and with no less zeal imprinting oscular proofs of satisfaction on the fair retiring cheek of his niece. Lady Eltondale had full time to kiss her white hand in turn to each individual, to commit her smelling-bottle and work bag to the particular charge of the footman who had preceded them, and to descend leisurely from the carriage with apparent timidity, but real anxiety, to save her shawls, and exhibit her well-turned ancle to Mordaunt, who supported her faltering steps. "Why, Gad's my life, I'm glad to see you all, though I never should have thought of it," exclaimed Sir Henry, his wig nearly as much turned round as the brains underneath it. "Why, Bell, what the devil brings you here?--Come to spend the summer, eh, with that chaise full of band boxes? Well, to be sure, to think of your coming to Deane Hall again! But I can't reach your mouth till you kick off that trumpet you've on." "Good God!" exclaimed Lady Eltondale with an involuntary shudder, but instantaneously recovering herself, "I am quite delighted, my dear brother, to find you in such charming spirits. How do, Mrs. Galton? I declare you look younger than ever. And Selina! why, child, you are almost as tall as I am." Selina's first impulse had been to throw herself into Lady Eltondale's arms, believing innocently that an "aunt" was another Mrs. Galton. But the boisterous _bonhomie_ of the Viscount's compliments, and still more the fashionable frigidity of Lady Eltondale's address, were repulsive to her feelings, and she unconsciously withdrew to that part of the hall to which Mordaunt had retired, whilst a tear trembled on her long eye-lashes. "She is not at all like aunt Mary," said Selina in a half whisper, "I'm sure I shan't like her." "But she will surely like you, Selina," answered Mordaunt.--"Come, you foolish girl," continued he, taking her hand, "don't you know aunt Mary said this morning, you were almost old enough to do the honours yourself! Let us see your _coup d'essai_." Meantime Sir Henry and Mrs. Galton led the travellers to the drawing-room, and introduced them to the wondering party they had left there.