When Colonel Crop had thus commenced his great negociation, by informing the magistrate of the business for which Lord Spoonbill had employed him, the gallant officer betook himself to the quiet seclusion of the great house, and amused himself with looking at fine pictures, reading the backs of books, lugging up his shirt collar, combing out his whiskers, listening to the creaking of his boots, picking his teeth, rattling his watch-chain, looking at himself in the glass, wondering what was going on in London, together with a multitude of other pretty little amusements of the same description. The half-paid hero was not sorry that his negociation received such a direction as it did, from the discovery that the young lady in question was related to Sir George Aimwell; and it occurred to the negociator, that he might very soon write to his honorable employer and inform him of the progress which had been made in this important and momentous business. And with the exercise of a little ingenuity, which nobody knew so well how to use as the gallant colonel, the occupation of writing a letter might employ a whole morning. But as the colonel’s present employment is merely meditation seasoned and garnished with sundries of these little amusements which we have recorded above, we need not detain our readers for the present at Smatterton castle, but we will introduce them to another mansion at Smatterton, where they will meet with the personages mentioned in this narrative, engaged in the highly honorable and delightful occupation of paying a tea visit to Honoria Letitia Spoonbill. Miss Spoonbill kept very little company; she had but one party in the year, and that was a tea-party, which assembled precisely at six and departed as precisely at ten; and, we may add, sat still and stared at each other as precisely for the whole period of their visit.