"That does not hinder their being old frights, child. Oh! You must not mind me, I say I think of every one. Well, here we are at home. I must introduce you to my poor old Sir John; he is not so old either, but a sad invalid, poor man." We had driven into a paved court, and now alighted at the door of the handsomest mansion I had yet seen. Lady Throckmorton led us through a grand hall, up a fine oak staircase, which reminded me of the great staircase at St. Jean, and into her own dressing-room; which was a rather small apartment, so crowded with all kinds of nick-nacks, that it was hard to move without knocking down a china mandarin, or a shepherdess, or upsetting a potpourri. The air was heavily laden with scents, as that of Mrs. Thorpe's shop. The windows were hung with rich draperies, and another curtain was looped over a door, which opened into a richly furnished bed-chamber. One of the most noticeable things in the room, was a finely painted portrait of a gentleman, surrounded by a wreath of white roses, so beautifully made, that at first I thought them real, and wondered where they came from. "This is my den," said Lady Throckmorton. "I told Sir John I positively could not stay in this horrible old pile of bricks unless he would allow me to fit up two or three rooms to suit my own taste. He is a good-natured creature, and so, though he worships his hideous old chairs and tables as if they were veritable household gods, he gave me leave to do what I liked with these rooms, and a withdrawing-room down stairs. What do you think of the general effect, eh?" She evidently expected us to be quite dazzled with all her splendor, and I indeed was so, though all the time I was conscious of a certain something which pained the eye. Amabel answered that we had seen so little of such things, that we were hardly good judges. My lady was evidently a little nettled by her coolness, and began to display one fine bit of china and gilding after another, till the entrance of her waiting-woman interrupted the lecture. "Tea is ready, my lady," said the Abigail, as it was then the fashion to call these personages, "and Captain Lovelace and some other gentlemen are in the drawing-room." "Dear me, I had no notion it was so late. You have been so entertaining, girls, that you have lent new wings to time." N. B.—We had hardly said ten words between us, but I have observed that people are usually better entertained with their own conversation than that of any one else. "See, Wilson, can you make these girls presentable at short notice? I wish to take them out with me this evening." Mrs. Wilson looked critically at us, and began to suggest various additions to our simple toilets.