With this, the door was suddenly flung open again, and everyone stood up, whilst something like a cannon-ball plunged into the room! It was the Lord-Lieutenant! I found out, during the course of the evening, that this was his way of hurrying in, in order that the company might re-take their seats as soon as possible. A few more seconds, then a vision of loveliness in white satin and crystal, and a whole stomacher of magnificent pearls, walked in. It was sweet Lady L——. There were no introductions, and every usual order of procession into the dining-room was reversed. For the duchess went in first, leaning on the Lord-Lieutenant’s arm, immediately followed by the Duke, leading her Excellency. The rest of the company—thirteen couples—followed in stately order, the curate’s wife being last with some insignificant honourable. But she had her revenge! Her husband was the first to speak, as he was called upon by a rap to say grace, and she found herself on Lord L——’s right hand. In order to show why she was there, I must explain that the royal chairs were placed in the centre of the long table, not at each end, and that their Excellencies and our hosts occupied the middle of the room. In a few minutes I had time to notice that their own footmen stood behind the regal party, but that the rest of us were served by the duke’s servants. What a sight was that whole party! Every earl wore his star, and every countess her coronet. Jewels galore glittered everywhere. All the same, the most striking-looking man there was the curate, in his plain black dress, with his beautiful face just as usual—calm and radiant and _spirituelle_. I do not think that dinner was quite a success, though a _chef_ had been engaged to cook it and two others at a fee of £100. The game was burned, and the ice-puddings were in lumps. There were long pauses between the _rêlêves_, and an ominous wait before all the twelve courses were handed round. I was so much taken up with the scene that I frequently laid down my knife and fork, even before I had tasted the morsels set before me, and found everything whisked away in a second. Nearly two hours that dinner occupied. Then, from behind a palm, our hostess nodded to the other end of the table, and his Excellency stood up. For this moment I had waited in fear and trembling. I knew we had to make the tour of that long table, then back out of the room, for royalty must never see behind the scenes. I had practised a sweeping curtsey before the pier-glass at home. I had gracefully backed from before it over and over again, but when my turn came I grew the colour of my copper roses, and nearly tumbled over my train. Nobody seemed to notice, however, not even James Giles, the major-domo, so I was fairly cool by the time the duchess took me by the arm to introduce me to her Excellency. “It is as good as a presentation at Court, my dear,” she whispered, “and will give you the _entrée_.”