In London, if a notable friend wanted a cheap trimming, or to match a silk or lace, yet did not like to go about to little shops herself, Alton would take a hackney coach, or walk if the weather permitted, and never rest till she had obtained the thing in question. By these and similar means she had made a great many high acquaintance, and _eked_ out a small income by visits, sometimes a little too long, to each in turn.----She had thus acquired some amusing anecdotes, and was far from an unpleasing companion, especially when no male beings came in her way; but when with men, vanity and affectation took such full possession of her, that she became completely ridiculous. This Lady St. Aubyn had an opportunity of seeing: when two or three gentlemen happened to call before dinner, her whole manner changed, and she became really absurd: her voice was softened----her head leant on one shoulder----a tolerably white hand and arm displayed in every possible attitude, and she behaved, in every respect, like a very silly affected girl; but when they were gone, she was again tolerably conversable, and St. Aubyn, ceasing to play upon her foibles, and turning the conversation to such topics as were most likely to shew her to advantage, the afternoon and evening passed pleasantly enough. Nor was St. Aubyn sorry to familiarise Ellen, by degrees, to company, or to do the honour of his table, before they should be obliged to receive the neighbouring families at dinner, many of whom he knew (especially two or three ladies who had unmarried daughters) would be eagerly looking out for any little omission in her, while Miss Alton was so delighted with the good things before her (certainly being _un peu gourmande_) with the beautiful new service of china, rich plate, &c. &c. that she never thought of her entertainers, except to express her pleasure in their kindness and attention: and they sent her home in the evening perfectly happy, and eager to tell dear Mrs. Dawkins what a delightful day she had spent, how happy the Earl was to see her, what a _sweet woman_ the Countess was, what fine china! what a dessert! what an elegant new carriage! &c. &c. CHAP. II. Yet once again farewell, thou minstrel harp, Yet once again forgive my feeble sway, And little reck I of the censure sharp, May idly cavil at an idle lay. Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way, Through secret woes the world has never known, When on the weary night dawn'd wearier day, And bitterer was the grief devour'd alone. W. SCOTT.