The children remembered, with much regret, that this was the last evening they could enjoy their historical game; the idea that their aunt and cousins would not be there to assist them, made it impossible for them to continue it after their departure. Alfred had been wishing in vain that an earthquake, thunder-storm, or some impossible catastrophe, would take place, to prevent their leaving them. The following evening the rest of the party, although more reasonable in their desires, sincerely wished they might be detained; and they seated themselves round their mothers with long and dismal faces. Alfred was of opinion that the game had better not be attempted, and then the last time would have been over the preceding evening without their knowing it; but this did not suit some of the others, who thought it was the only amusement that could make the time pass pleasantly. Mrs. Macdonald promised to do her best to enliven them, reminding them how useless, and ungrateful for past enjoyment in each other's society it would be to repine, now it was over; had they known their mother's private feelings, they would have found that she also suffered from the idea of losing her sister, even for a short time. The children promised to be as cheerful as the circumstances would allow, and their kind mother consented to tell the first story:-- "You have all heard of the House of Peers; and I shall now describe this important body collected on an interesting occasion. A speaker has been supported into the house, who appears to have risen from a bed of sickness; for the time he has regained strength, and is giving utterance to a powerful speech with the greatest animation." "You have not," said the children, "given us much detail, mama." "I will add, then, that this eloquent orator spoke of America and her affairs." "And I think," said Mrs. Arabin, "that before he left the meeting, he was seized with a fit, and carried out lifeless." "Then, aunt," replied Willie, "you have mentioned a public character to whom Pitt was related, and to whom he succeeded, as one of the king's chief ministers." "I am glad you are not too unhappy to guess so well; perhaps you can now describe a picture." "That I will, dear aunt; and it shall shew you the death of a brave man. He is commanding a large fleet, and fights against an enemy with the most determined courage. At the moment I have selected, he has received his death-blow, and has hastily covered the stars and different orders on his breast with his handkerchief; fearing the sailors might be appalled if they knew their commander had fallen. A friend stands by, and holds out his arm to support him." "You so often give us battles," said Alfred; "and they all seem so much alike." "What was this gallant seaman in appearance?" asked Mary. "He was a pale, emaciated looking man, and had lost an arm." "You have told us now, Willie; and I think mama is ready to speak next."