Sir John has received his title for his devotion to the interests of the Crown, as exemplified in the various delicate duties assigned to him. In person he is above the medium height, with a regular cast of features; and he has that frank, ingenuous manner not usually conceded to such polished men of the world. Sir John is the only member of the English part of the commission who brings his wife. He tarries in the shadow of the aristocratic Arlington, but the remainder of the commission are quartered at the superb Philip mansion on K street, opposite Franklin Square, where, with a large retinue of servants, dogs and horses, the fire of an English home is kept burning. This house is one of the largest and finest private residences in Washington. The extensive drawing room has a waxed floor, relieved in sundry places by exquisitely finished velvet rugs. Pictures of English landscapes look down from the lofty walls. “I didn’t know they had such comfortable houses in this country,” said one of the royal blood. “It must have been made expressly for our use,” chimed another. It is simply an elegant American home, planned by an English-born American citizen, who, out of deference to his late countrymen, resolved that they should carry away from his adopted country something sweet and savory in the shape of pleasant recollections. OLIVIA. A DISSERTATION ON DRESS. PROPER PROCEDURE FOR MEMBERS OF THE SELECT CIRCLE OF SOCIETY. WASHINGTON, _March 18, 1871_. In a social way the doors of the White House have closed for the season. The beginning of Lent has heretofore marked the abrupt decline of the star of Fashion, but this year the days of folly have been lengthened, in consequence of the necessity of extending hospitalities to the British part of the joint high commission. Recent receptions may be compared to autumnal flowers trying to bloom after the coming of frost. The carpets at the Executive Mansion begin to show the result of the wear and tear of a winter’s campaign, and a dingy pall seems to wrap all the other surroundings. Mrs. Grant looks weary and worn, and, though her manner is kind and engaging as ever, it is plain to see that she will be glad when this universal handshaking is over. One becomes thoroughly exhausted in vain attempt to feel satisfied with the foam and froth of Washington’s fashionable dissipations. The same envy, heart burnings and petty jealousies exist here as in monarchical courts. There may be a small quantity of genuine comfort in a modern dinner party at the capital, and yet there is room for grave doubts. Suppose you are invited to a dinner at the White House; you must remember that every rule and regulation is prescribed. When you receive your invitation you know exactly what chair you will occupy at the table. Soon after your arrival you will receive a card which will inform you which “lady” you are ordered to take to dinner. This woman sits by your side. You are obliged to be