_Chignon._ The parfaite aimable, madam: but my bringing de point of de hair more down to de eye-brow, or adding a little blowse to de sides, I can give you de look severe, capricieuse--vat you please. _Miss Als._ We'll put it off for half an hour, I am not quite decided. I was in the capricieuse yesterday--I believe I shall keep on the perfect amiable. [_Exit CHIGNON._] Tiffany, take off my powdering gown----Ah! ho!----How the wench tugs--do you think you are pulling off the coachman's greatcoat? _Mrs. Blandish._ My dear amiable!--do not let that sweet temper be ruffled--Why will you not employ me in these little offices. Delicacy like yours should be waited upon by the softness of a sylph. [_During this Speech exit TIFFANY peevishly._ _Miss Als._ I am promised a creature to be about me out of the common way. _Mrs. Blandish._ A new woman? _Miss Als._ No; something to be raised much higher, and at the same time fitted better to receive one's ill-humour. An humble companion, well born, well educated, and perfectly dependent, is a most useful appurtenance in the best families. _Mrs. Blandish._ Well, do not raise her to the rank of a friend, lest I should be jealous. _Miss Als._ You may be perfectly secure--I shall take particular care that friendship shall be out of the question on both sides. I had once thought of a restoration of pages to sit in scarlet and silver (as one reads in former times) upon the forepart of the coach, and to hold up one's train--but I have a new male attendant in a valet de chambre, who has possession of my bust--My two women will have the charge from the point of the shoulder to the toe--So my person being provided for--the Countess of Gayville shall have an attendant to wait upon her mind. _Mrs. Blandish._ I vow a most elegant and uncommon thought. _Miss Als._ One that can pen a note in the familiar, the punctilious, or the witty--It's quite troublesome to be always writing wit for one's self--But above all, she is to have a talent for music. _Mrs. Blandish._ Ay, your very soul is framed for harmony. _Miss Als._ I have not quite determined what to call her--Governante of the private chamber, keeper of the boudoir, with a silver key at her breast---- _Enter CHIGNON._ _Chignon._ Madame, a young lady beg to know if you be visible. _Miss Als._ A young lady--It is not Lady Emily Gayville? _Chignon._ Non, madam, but if you were absente, and I had the adjustment of her head, she would be the most charmante personne I did ever see. _Miss Als._ Introduce her. [_Exit CHIGNON._] Who can this be? _Mrs. Blandish._ Some woman of taste, to inquire your correspondent at Paris--or-- _Enter MISS ALTON._ _MISS ALSCRIP courtesying respectfully; MISS ALTON retiring disconcerted._ _Miss Als._ Of taste indeed, by her appearance!--Who's in the antichamber? Why did they not open the folding doors?--Chignon, approach a fauteuil for the lady. _Miss Alton._ Madam, I come!--