Some hits, sufficiently palpable, however, are recorded for the advantage of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony led her to look at the Chinese pagoda, the lady paused, with her foot on the threshold, as if afraid to enter this porcelain Elysium, as she called it--Fool’s Paradise, she would have said; and, by her hesitation, and by the half pronounced word, suggested the idea,--“None but belles without petticoats can enter here,” said she, drawing her clothes tight round her; “fortunately, I have but two, and Lady Langdale has but one.” Prevailed upon to venture in, she walked on with prodigious care and trepidation, affecting to be alarmed at the crowd of strange forms and monsters by which she was surrounded. “Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature!--Well, now I may boast I’ve been in a real Chinese pagoda!” “Why, yes, every thing is appropriate here, I flatter my self,” said Lady Clonbrony. “And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in defiance of bulls and blunders, to allow us a comfortable English fire-place and plenty of Newcastle coal in China!--And a white marble--no! white velvet hearthrug painted with beautiful flowers--Oh! the delicate, the _useful_ thing!” Vexed by the emphasis on the word _useful_, Lady Clonbrony endeavoured to turn off the attention of the company. “Lady Langdale, your ladyship’s a judge of china--this vase is an unique, I am told.” “I am told,” interrupted Mrs. Dareville, “this is the very vase in which B----, the nabob’s father, who was, you know, a China captain, smuggled his dear little Chinese wife and all her fortune out of Canton--positively, actually put the lid on, packed her up, and sent her off on shipboard!--True! true! upon my veracity! I’ll tell you my authority!” With this story, Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from the jar, to Lady Clonbrony’s infinite mortification. Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range of china jars. “Ali Baba and the forty thieves!” exclaimed Mrs. Dareville: “I hope you have boiling oil ready!” Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that Mrs. Dareville was uncommon pleasant to-night--“But now,” said her ladyship, “let me take you to the Turkish tent.” Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of the pagoda and into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony began to breathe move freely; for here she thought she was upon safe ground:--“Every thing, I flatter myself,” said she, “is correct, and appropriate, and quite picturesque”--The company, dispersed in happy groups, or reposing on seraglio ottomans, drinking lemonade and sherbet--beautiful Fatimas admiring, or being admired--“Every thing here quite correct, appropriate, and picturesque,” repeated Mrs. Dareville.