"But Monday--Monday is our day of days. All Sunday we think about it, and cannot say our prayers for thinking of the dear delightful day. And what the clergyman preaches about none of us know, for wishing the day was here. On Monday we have a great public breakfast to begin with: the gentry come to it from all the country-side, with the great people from Durdans: in fine weather we breakfast under the trees upon the Terrace while the music plays. You will find it pleasant to take your chocolate to the strains of flute and clarionet, French horn and hautboy; the sunshine raises the spirits, and the music fills the head with pretty fancies. Besides, every girl likes to be surrounded by tall fellows who, though we care not a pin for one of them, are useful for providing conversation, cakes, and creams, telling stories, saying gallant things, fetching, carrying, and making Peggy Baker jealous. On Monday, too, there are always matches on the Downs: we pretend to be interested in the horses: we come back to dinner and a concert: in the afternoon some of the gentlemen give tea and chocolate; and at six o'clock, the fiddles tune up--oh, the delicious scraping!--we all take our places: and then begins--oh! oh! oh!--the dear, delightful ball! My child, let Miss Peggy Baker dress her best, put on her finest airs, and swim about with her most languishing sprawl, I know who shall outshine her, and be the Queen of the Wells." "Yourself, dear Nancy?" "No; not myself, dear Nancy," she replied, imitating. "Oh! you well may blush for shame, pretty hypocrite! 'Tis yourself, dear Kitty, that I mean. You shall burst upon their astonished gaze like Venus rising from the sea in our picture at home, only better dressed than that poor creature!" Just then a young lady, with the largest hoop I had ever seen, with patches and powder, and accompanied by three or four gentlemen, came slowly along the walk. As she drew near she looked at me with curiosity. She was a tall girl--nearly as tall as myself--with features rather larger than ordinary, and as she moved I understood what Nancy meant by languishing and swimming. Nancy ran to meet her, taking her by both hands, and affecting a mighty joy. "Dear Miss Peggy," she began, "I am charmed to see you looking so well and lovely. How that dress becomes your shape! with what an air sits that hat!" "Oh, Miss Nancy!" Miss Peggy swam and languished, agitating her fan and half shutting her eyes, which were very large and limpid. "Praise from such a judge of beauty and dress as yourself is rare indeed. What should we poor women do without the discrimination of our own sex. Men have no discernment. A well-dressed woman and a draggletail are all one to them." "Not all men, dear Miss Peggy," continued Nancy, her eyes sparkling. "Mr. Walsingham was only saying this morning that you are, like himself, a proof of the salubrity of the Wells, since it is now the fifth season----"