come down for change of air."--"And Lucy and I must pay our respects to them too, they are always so very polite."--"They are never very _civil_, I take it," said Mrs. Crosbie; "I believe, in my heart, they would never come near their country neighbours, but to show off their town airs on them."--"Well, for my part," observed Mr. Crosbie, "with due deference be it spoken, I think town airs should be laid by for town people, kept _in usum jus habentis_, for those who understand 'em."--"That's what you never could do, my dear," replied the lady.--Mrs. Lucas, as usual, slipping in an assenting nod to every successive observation from each person, while she as unremittingly attended to the tea and cake. "Well, I'm sure, at all events," said her daughter Nancy, "they are very genteel: what a lovely green bonnet the little Miss Webberly had on!--she's the eldest, I believe."--"I'm sure, if the bonnet was lovely, the face under it wasn't; the two together are for all the world like a full blown daffodil in its green case." Notwithstanding Mrs. Crosbie had thus taken occasion to express her dislike of the family in general, she was not less ready than the rest of the little circle to pay her annual visit at Webberly House; and, as all were anxious to wait on the ladies in question, either from motives of civility, or interest, or curiosity, it was speedily settled, that the party should adjourn thither on the following morning. All particulars of their dress, their conveyance, &c., being finally arranged, the four seniors of Mrs. Martin's visitors sat down to penny whist, while she seated herself at the corner of the card table, ready to cut in, snuff candles, or make civil observations between the deals. Lucy, and Nancy Lucas, strolled into the garden, ostensibly to pull currants, but, in reality, to talk over Mr. Brown, the apothecary's apprentice, and Mr. Slater's hopeful son and heir, whose professed admiration of Miss Lucas had lately been eclipsed by a flash of military ardour, that had induced him to enter into the Yorkshire militia. At length Mrs. Martin's fears of the damp grass and evening dew induced the two eternal friends to return to the parlour, where the fortunate attainment of an odd trick, by finishing the rubber, broke up the little party, who dispersed with much the same bustle with which they had entered. While Mrs. Martin pursued her retreating visitors as far as the white pales, with renewed offers of a glass of currant wine, hopes and fears relative to the company catching cold, and assurances that she and Lucy would certainly be ready before eleven o'clock for Mr. Lucas, with a profusion of thanks for his offer of calling for them in his gig. CHAPTER II. Mons. De Sotenville--Que dites vous ‡ cela? George Dandin--Je dis que ce sont l‡ des contes ‡ dormir debout[1]. MOLIERE. [Footnote 1: "What do you say to that?"--"I say such recitals are only fit to sleep over."]