One day, a grand equipage stopped at the door, with a great clatter of horse-hoofs. A lackey in a fine livery jumped down and opened the door, and a gentleman who was in the shop rushed forward to give his hand to a very fine lady indeed, who descended from the vehicle. She wore an immense hoop, at least eight yards in circumference, a sacque and petticoat of contrasting colors. Her hair was cut and curled close round her well-rouged and patched face, and she wore a very small chip hat cocked up at one side, and trimmed with very rich, white and silver ribbons. These same white ribbons had a significance which, at the time, I did not understand. The lady was followed by her gentlewoman in waiting, an impudent looking piece, nearly as fine as her mistress, who carried a horrid little lap-dog in her arms. "Is it possible?" exclaimed the gentleman, laying his hand on his heart with a theatrical air. "Do my eyes deceive me, or does the adorable Lady Throckmorton deign once more to bestow on our barbarous town the light of her presence? I had thought nothing would bring you from the Baths at this time of the year." "And nothing would but dire necessity, I assure you, Captain Lovelace," answered the lady. "But Sir John's mother, who is much in years and very frail, desired to see her son, and Sir John would not travel without me—indeed he is not very fit to do so—so as I could not deprive the poor lady of what might be the last sight of her son, I was obliged to quit all the dear delights of the Baths." "Angelic goodness!" said Captain Lovelace. "Nay, 'twas no such great matter. We shall all come to age and infirmity some day. My lady has been a good mother to her son, and would have been to me if I had but let her." The lady spoke these last words with a tone expressive of some emotion. I even thought there were tears in her beautiful eyes. If so, she soon dispersed them, and, as if she were ashamed of her late seriousness, she began to chatter the most arrant nonsense to Captain Lovelace and her dog, alternately,—treating the one with about as much respect as the other, I thought, while she turned over the caps and aprons Mrs. Thorpe showed her, calling one horrible—absolutely hideous and revolting—and another ravishing, angelic! Perfectly divine! "I must positively try this on, my good Thorpe; it is just my style. Has any one else seen it?" "Nobody, my lady. I have but this morning unpacked it, and I brought it from France only a few days ago. If your ladyship will step into the parlor."