“Know them. Heaven forbid! Look at the equipages they have come in; only cast an eye at the two leathern conveniences now before the door, and say, is it likely that they contain any acquaintances of ours?” “How hot they look, broiling down there! But who are they, Charley?” “Mrs. Penthony Morris,--never heard of her; Mr. Algernon Mosely,-- possibly the Bond Street man; Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Rice Morgan, of Plwmnwrar,--however that be pronounced; Mr. Layton and friend,--discreet friend, who will not figure by name; Mr. Gorman O'Shea, by all the powers! and, as I live, our Yankee again!” “Not Quackinboss, surely?” broke in Sir William, good-humoredly. “Yes. There he is: 'U. S. A., Colonel Leonidas Shaver Quackinboss;' and there's the man, too, with his coat on his arm, on that coach-box.” “I'll certainly vote for my Transatlantic friend,” said the Baronet, “and consequently for any party of which he is a member.” “As for me!” cried May,--“I 've quite a curiosity to see him; not to say that it would be downright churlishness to refuse any of our countrymen the permission thus asked for.” “Be it so. I only stipulate for not playing cicerone to our amiable visitors; and the more surely to escape such an indignity, I 'm off till dinner.” “Let Fenton wait on those gentlemen,” said the Baronet, “and go round with them through the house and the grounds. Order luncheon also to be ready.” There was a little, a very little, irritation, perhaps, in his voice, but May's pleasant smile quickly dispelled the momentary chagrin, and his good-humored face was soon itself again. If I have not trespassed upon my reader's patience by minute descriptions of the characters I have introduced to him, it is in the expectation that their traits are such as, lying lightly on the surface, require little elucidation. Nor do I ask of him to bestow more attention to their features than he would upon those of travelling acquaintances with whom it is his fortune to journey in company for a brief space. Strange enough, indeed, is that intimacy of travelling acquaintanceship --familiar without friendship, frank without being cordial. Curious pictures of life might be made from these groups thrown accidentally together in a steamboat or railroad, at the gay watering-place, or the little fishing-village in the bathing-season. How free is all the intercourse of those who seem to have taken a vow with themselves never to meet each other again! With what humorous zest do they enjoy the oddities of this one, or the eccentricities of that, making up little knots and cliques, to be changed or dissolved within the day, and actually living on the eventualities of the hour, for their confidences! The contrasts that would repel in ordinary life, the disparities that would discourage, have actually invited intimacy; and people agree to associate, even familiarly, with those whom, in the recognized order of their daily existence, they would have as coldly repelled.