I thought I should have gone mad on my At-home day. I really expected it would have been the death of poor, dear Edward. And I’m sure, for myself, I made up my mind that, come what would, I’d never go through another such a time, not even if I was to be made a princess. I declare the door-step had never been touched--nor the hall or the stairs swept--not even so much as a mat shaken--nor a thing dusted--so that you might have written your name on the backs of the chairs and tables in the drawing-room--and it was past twelve in the day before I could get that slut Mary even to clear away the breakfast things out of the parlour--and I had the greatest difficulty in the world to make her go and clean herself, for she was just the same as when she got up in the morning, not fit to be seen. I had to light the fire in the drawing-room, and dust the place, dressed as I was, myself, or else it would never have been done. I don’t suppose I could have finished a quarter of an hour before the first double-knock came to the door, and that slut Mary not down stairs to answer it. So I rushed up to her room and bundled her down as quick as I could; though she had been at her old tricks again, I could see, and wasn’t really in a fit state to be trusted to go to the door; but what could I do? They had knocked again, and I had only just time to sit myself down, and take up one of the books off the drawing-room table, when the street-door was opened. And then, to my great horror, I heard Mary talking, at the top of her voice, to the visitors in the passage; and demanding to shake hands with them, and calling them a set of stuck-up things, because they wouldn’t. So I ran down as fast as my legs would carry me, and looking at her as if I could have eaten her, told her to go down stairs _directly_, and remember who she was, and what she was, and where she came from. I found it was poor Mrs. B--yl--s and her lovely girls that Mary had been insulting in this dreadful manner, and who were quite flurried at her strange goings-on. Luckily, Edward was up-stairs dressing, or there’s no knowing what he wouldn’t have done. And I declare, there was not a single person that came into the house that day that she didn’t insult, in some way or other; and twice I had to go down to her; for she would go, singing and dancing about, like a downright maniac; and it was only by promising her some warm spirits and water in the evening, that I could in any way get her to keep her tongue to herself.