"I had scarce come to tea," said Miss Mowbray, "of my own freewill. But my brother says your ladyship proposes to come to Shaws-Castle, and he insisted it was quite right and necessary, to confirm you in so flattering a purpose, that I should come and say, Pray do, Lady Penelope; and so now here am I to say, Pray, do come." "Is an invitation so flattering limited to me alone, my dear Clara?--Lady Binks will be jealous." "Bring Lady Binks, if she has the condescension to honour us"--[a bow was very stiffly exchanged between the ladies]--"bring Mr. Springblossom--Winterblossom--and all the lions and lionesses--we have room for the whole collection. My brother, I suppose, will bring his own particular regiment of bears, which, with the usual assortment of monkeys seen in all caravans, will complete the menagerie. How you are to be entertained at Shaws-Castle, is, I thank Heaven, not my business, but John's." "We shall want no formal entertainment, my love," said Lady Penelope; "a _dejeuner a la fourchette_--we know, Clara, you would die of doing the honours of a formal dinner." "Not a bit; I should live long enough to make my will, and bequeath all large parties to old Nick, who invented them." "Miss Mowbray," said Lady Binks, who had been thwarted by this free-spoken young lady, both in her former character of a coquette and romp, and in that of a prude which she at present wore--"Miss Mowbray declares for 'Champagne and a chicken at last.'" "The chicken without the champagne, if you please," said Miss Mowbray; "I have known ladies pay dear to have champagne on the board.--By the by, Lady Penelope, you have not your collection in the same order and discipline as Pidcock and Polito. There was much growling and snarling in the lower den when I passed it." "It was feeding-time, my love," said Lady Penelope; "and the lower animals of every class become pugnacious at that hour--you see all our safer and well-conditioned animals are loose, and in good order." "Oh, yes--in the keeper's presence, you know--Well, I must venture to cross the hall again among all that growling and grumbling--I would I had the fairy prince's quarters of mutton to toss among them if they should break out--He, I mean, who fetched water from the Fountain of Lions. However, on second thoughts, I will take the back way, and avoid them.--What says honest Bottom?-- 'For if they should as lions come in strife Into such place, 'twere pity of their life.'" "Shall I go with you, my dear?" said Lady Penelope. "No--I have too great a soul for that--I think some of them are lions only as far as the hide is concerned." "But why would you go so soon, Clara?" "Because my errand is finished--have I not invited you and yours? and would not Lord Chesterfield himself allow I have done the polite thing?" "But you have spoke to none of the company--how can you be so odd, my love?" said her ladyship.