so constructed as to keep from the sight of the prisoners that they contained, “the fields, woods, and every object which might remind them of their former liberty.”--From birds he was going on to beasts, when he was nearly struck dumb by the forbidding severity with which an elderly lady, who sat opposite to him, fixed her eyes upon him. He had not, till this instant, paid the smallest attention to her; but her stern countenance was now so strongly contrasted with the approving looks of the children who sat next to her, that he could not help remarking it. He asked her to do him the honour to drink a glass of wine with him. She declined doing him that honour; observing that she never drank more than one glass of wine at dinner, and that she had just taken one with Mr. Percival. Her manner was well-bred, but haughty in the extreme; and she was so passionate, that her anger sometimes conquered even her politeness. Her dislike to Clarence Hervey was apparent, even in her silence. “If the old gentlewoman has taken an antipathy to me at first sight, I cannot help it,” thought he, and he went on to the beasts. The boy, who sat next him, had asked some questions about the proboscis of the elephant, and Mr. Hervey mentioned Ives’s account of the elephants in India, who have been set to watch young children, and who draw them back gently with their trunks, when they go out of bounds. He talked next of the unicorn; and addressing himself to Dr. X---- and Mr. Percival, he declared that in his opinion Herodotus did not deserve to be called the father of lies; he cited the mammoth to prove that the apocryphal chapter in the history of beasts should not be contemned--that it would in all probability be soon established as true history. The dessert was on the table before Clarence had done with the mammoth. As the butler put a fine dish of cherries upon the table, he said, “My lady, these cherries are a present from the old gardener to Miss Delacour.” “Set them before Miss Delacour then,” said Lady Anne. “Helena, my dear, distribute your own cherries.” At the name of Delacour, Clarence Hervey, though his head was still half full of the mammoth, looked round in astonishment; and when he saw the cherries placed before the young lady, whose resemblance to Lady Delacour he had before observed, he could not help exclaiming, “That young lady then is not a daughter of your ladyship’s?” “No; but I love her as well as if she were,” replied Lady Anne.--“What were you saying about the mammoth?” “That the mammoth is supposed to be------------” but interrupting himself, Clarence said in an inquiring tone--“A _niece_ of Lady Delacour’s?” “Her ladyship’s _daughter_, sir,” said the severe old lady, in a voice more terrific than her looks. “Shall I give you some strawberries, Mr. Hervey,” said lady Anne, “or will you let Helena help you to some cherries?” “Her ladyship’s _daughter!_” exclaimed Clarence Hervey in a tone of surprise.