"Oh, piles of money of course; all the common councilmen have piles of money," said Spunyarn. "And do they all dress like waiters in the morning, and then dine with the Lord Mayor?" "Yes. I suppose it's an old City custom, you know. Anyhow they always dine with the Lord Mayor. That's what they die of." "And now I have something to tell you, Lucy," said Mrs. Haggard. "It's all been decided. After the Christmas festivities at the Castle we are to go to Rome, and we hope you will come too." Lucy clapped her hands with girlish glee. "Go with you, Georgie dear? Of course I will. How good of you to ask me." The girl was evidently delighted. "And have you the heart, Miss Warrender, to leave me, Mr. Sleek, and your other countless admirers, here in England to 'dree our weary weirds alone?'" And so the idle talk ran on. The Italian trip was discussed, and considerable ignorance of geography was, as is usual, manifested by all present. Lucy expressed her disappointment, on being informed that there were now no brigands in Italy, save those behind the shop counters, or in the choruses of the opera. A trim maid then brought in the tea equipage, and Georgie did the honours with her usual unaffected grace. And now Parson Dodd and his sister were announced. The Dodds presented a rather dishevelled appearance. They, too, had seen the Lord Mayor's Show. But the vicar, in a moment of weakness, had yielded to Anastatia's wish to see something of the real Londoner, whom "dear Dickens has described so well," as she had put it.