Miss Webberly and her sister kept themselves aloof from the scene of action, preferring playing billiards, or riding with Mr. Sedley and the other gentlemen, to giving their mother the smallest assistance, who repented of her undertaking ten times a day. But Adelaide was not so selfish; and the moment she perceived Mrs. Sullivan's perplexity, she left her usual occupations to offer her assistance. "Well, well," thought Mrs. Sullivan, "I wish Meely and Cilly were as discreet as this poor child. But it isn't their faults, pretty dears. I never used them to no thrift; and, I dare say, her nose has been well kept to the grinding-stone, as the like of her ought. My daughters, God bless them, have got a rare spirit of their own!" (Would to Heaven it were a rare spirit!) Miss Webberly thinking that chalking the floor of the dancing-room would afford a good opportunity for displaying her knowledge of the fine arts, at first joined Adelaide in the task; but quickly discovering that kneeling on bare boards was more fatiguing than classical, left her at the end of a quarter of an hour, to finish it alone, with a request not to be sparing in the introduction of the Webberly arms. No mention was made of the Sullivan honours; for, though that family traced its pedigree _beyond the flood_, it had never been heard of in London, and, therefore, was of no value. At nine o'clock on the appointed evening Mrs. Sullivan entered the reception room; and seeing Adelaide already there, said, "That's right, Miss Wildenheim, you be's always ready. I never can get them there girls of mine to dishevel themselves in time. Will you be so kind as to help me to put out the lights in them there chandlers? They can stay unlit a bit, for none of the gentlemen ban't dressed yet, and we can light 'em again when the folk come to the door, you know--I loves to practise genteel economy." Adelaide executed her commission; and her companion then proceeded to examine her attire with the most minute attention; and, as her eye was attracted by the beautiful ornaments, which confined and were intermixed with her luxuriant hair, she exclaimed, "La! what fine pearls you have got on--your _mother's_ I suppose, Miss." "Yes, madam," replied Adelaide, mournfully, "she had a great quantity of pearls, which were new set for my use," "Wery like, Miss, wery like," retorted the scornful lady; and, turning disdainfully from her, bustled off to another part of the room, muttering, "Oh the vickedness of this vorld!" Adelaide was dressed in that last stage of _real mourning_, which, from its chaste contrast of colour, is perhaps the most elegant attire a beautiful female can wear, as it seems to throw a veil on the loveliness, which, in truth, it embellishes. Her mental, as well as personal charms, were softened by the same garb of sorrow; and perhaps their beauty, "Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which Heav'n to gaudy day denies,"