"I am glad to find you have not been tired," she said, "waiting for me. I beg you a thousand pardons, Lady Glenmore; but really I had so many things to do to-day--notes, those terrible time destroyers; and then the last number of the Edinburgh Review, together with Mr. Kirchoffer's last work, have so entirely occupied me, I totally forgot how the hours flew past, till Argenbeau told me that you were arrived. However, I hope you find the instrument in good order. Mr. Winyard sings like an angel; and I make no doubt," (looking at him, to ask how far she was right in the assertion) "Lady Glenmore does so likewise." Mr. Winyard said, "I assure you, Lady Tilney, _que voilà ce que l'on appelle chanter_," indicating Lady Glenmore with a movement of his head, "I had no idea any thing not of the Land of Song could sing in that manner." "Well, really, you astonish me; why Lady Glenmore keeps all her perfections to herself! But she must really be drawn out, and not suffered to hide her talents in obscurity." At this moment Lady Tenderden and the Baskervilles entered, and shortly after the remainder of the company. "Well, it is time we should be gone, if we mean to see Richmond," observed Mr. Spencer Newcomb, "though I believe _eating_ Richmond is fully as interesting, and candle-light at any time is better worth seeing than the sun-light; are you not of my opinion, Lady Glenmore?" He addressed himself in preference to her, because he thought she was new enough to be astonished, and astonishment was an homage paid to his power which he well knew he could not extract from any of the rest of the company. "Both are good," replied Lady Glenmore, "in their proper season." "A philosophical answer!" cried Sir William; "you did not expect that, did you, Newcomb?" "No, it is too wise for me," he said, "for it leaves me nothing to say--it is a truism; _messieurs et mesdames, je vous avertie_, that as I do not like the evening fogs of the river I cannot postpone my departure. Lord Baskerville, Mr. Winyard, will you come with me? I have a _voiture a quatre places_, and any lady may come that likes." Mr. Leslie Winyard bowed and whispered Lady Glenmore, "would she go?" Lady Tenderden whispered her on the other side, "by all means go, my dear Lady Glenmore, and I will arrange my party in your carriage." Lady Tenderden's advice was not to be slighted, and Lady Glenmore accordingly accepted Mr. Leslie Winyard's offered arm, and followed Comtesse Leinsengen, who treating her as nobody, as she was generally wont to do every one whom she dared, she entered her carriage and drove off. At Whitehall-stairs they found their boat waiting, the best barge, the most knowing bargemen, and all things in exquisite order--they take their places, and, a band of music following, glide down the stream, and are, or appear to be, in the most harmonious of humours. "What is become of Glenmore to-day?" asked Lord Gascoigne.