At that moment, old Rushmere striving to do the amiable, ushered the two ladies into the room, just as Mrs. Rushmere regained her self-possession. "My dear," said her husband, leading Mrs. Gilbert up to his wife, "let me have the pleasure of introducing you to your daughter." Mrs. Rushmere held out her hand, and the younger female bent down and kissed her. "I'm a very sick woman, my dear. You must excuse my not rising, but I am very glad to see you. I hope you will make yersel at home; we be but simple country folk." "So I perceive, ma'am. I dare say we shall soon be friends." "This is Mrs. Rowly, wife," said the farmer, introducing Mrs. Gilbert's mother, an ordinary looking woman of fifty; vulgar and gaudily dressed. "I hope we shall all get better acquainted soon." This ceremony was scarcely over, when Mrs. Gilbert asked, with a supercilious air, to be shown to their apartments, as she was tired with her long journey, and wished to lie down for an hour or two before dinner. "Martha," she said, addressing the girl, who had been staring about her with the white poodle in her fat arms. "Give Jewel a bath, his coat is quite dusty, and when he is dry bring him up to me. I am afraid that horrid, vulgar-looking cur will hurt him." "Dinner will be on the table in half-an-hour, Mrs. Gilbert Rushmere," said Dorothy, hardly able to keep her gravity. "Gracious! at what hour do you country people dine?" and she pulled out a gold watch. "It is just half-past twelve. I could not eat a morsel so early in the day. We always have been accustomed to get dinner at six o'clock." "That may do for fashionable Lunnon folks," muttered old Rushmere, "but it won't do here. If you can't yeat a good dinner when 'tis ready, I will." "My wife will soon accommodate herself to country hours," said Gilbert, laughing. "The fine, fresh air has made me very hungry. So, when you have changed your dress, Sophy, I shall be glad to eat my dinner." "The dinner can be put back for an hour," said Dorothy, "if it would suit Mrs. Gilbert better." "She must learn to take things as she finds them," said Gilbert, casting a significant look at his wife. "I know of old, that father never will wait for his dinner." "Not for King George!" cried Rushmere, slapping his knee with vigour. "A' never could see any sense in spoiling good food." "But you know, Mr. Rushmere," said the young lady, in a soft dulcet voice, and sheathing her claws, as a cat does, in velvet, "it requires time for town-bred people to accommodate themselves to fashions so totally unlike what they have been used to. You must have patience with me, and I shall soon get into your ways." "All right," returned Lawrence, rather doggedly. "I be too old to learn new tricks--an' what's more, a' don't mean to try." "Nobody wants you, father," said Mrs. Gilbert, giving him a very small white hand.