And by-and-by they began to talk of last night--last night, their first night at the Willows, their first entrance into the home life of “the great.” They had no moral maxims at their finger-ends, touching the vanity of riches, nor had the private opinion entertained by Papa and Mamma, that “the country” paid for the folly of “the aristocracy,” and that the science of Government was a mere piece of craft for the benefit of “the privileged classes,” done any harm at all to the unpolitical imaginations of Agnes and Marian. They were scarcely at their ease yet, and were a great deal more timid than was comfortable; yet they took very naturally to this fairy life, and found an unfailing fund of wonder and admiration in it. They admired everything indeed, had a certain awe and veneration for everybody, and could not sufficiently admire the apparent accomplishments and real grace of their new associates. “Agnes!--I wonder if there is anything I could learn?” said Marian, rather timidly; “everybody here can do something; it is very different from doing a little of everything, like Miss Tavistock at Bellevue--and we used to think her accomplished!--but do you think there is anything I could learn?” “And me!” said Agnes, somewhat disconsolately. “You? no, indeed, you do not need it,” said Marian, with a little pride. “You can do what none of them can do;--but they can talk about everything these people, and every one of them can do something. There is that Sir Langham--you would think he was only a young gentleman--but Mrs Edgerley says he makes beautiful sketches. We did not understand people like these when we were at home.” “What do you think of Sir Langham, May?” asked Agnes seriously. “Think of him? oh, he is very pleasant,” said Marian, with a smile and a slight blush: “but never mind Sir Langham; do you think there is anything I could learn?” “I do not know,” said Agnes; “perhaps you could sing. I think you might sing, if you would only take courage and try.” “Sing! oh no, no!”; said Marian; “no one could venture to sing after the young lady--did you hear her name, Agnes?--who sang last night. She did not speak to any one, she was more by herself than we were. I wonder who she could be.” “Mrs Edgerley called her Rachel,” said Agnes. “I did not hear any other name. I think it must be the same that Mrs Edgerley told mamma about; you remember she said----”