As the odour did not pass away, Sir Hampton sought his lady, who had gone to dress, and again made her shed tears by exclaiming against his mansion being made to smell like a cookshop. "It's that dreadful prize kitchener, Hampton, dear," said poor Lady Rea. "The smell comes into the house instead of going up the chimney." "It's nothing of the sort--its your stupid servants!" exclaimed the knight, and he bounced off to his room to prepare for the banquet. "I've a good mind to make myself ugly as sin, Tiny," said Fin, pettishly. But she did not, for she looked very piquante in her palest of pale blue diaphanous dresses, while her sister looked very sweet and charming in white. "Why, Tiny, you look quite poorly," cried Fin, in alarm. "Pray, don't look like that, or that wretch Trevor will see that you've been fretting. If he prefers little servant-girls to my dear sister, let him have them." "Fin, dear, you hurt me," said Tiny, simply; and there was such a tender, reproachful look in her sweet eyes that Fin gave a gulp, and, regardless of her get-up, threw herself on her sister's breast. "I'm such a thoughtless wretch, Tiny; I won't say so any more." "Please, Miss, your par says are you a coming down?" said the maid sent to summon them; and they went down, to find Sir Hampton in so violently stiff a cravat, that the wonder was how it was possible that it could be tied in a bow, and the spectator at last came to the conclusion that it had been starched after it was on. Aunt Matty had, in her Irish poplin, a dress that was fearfully and wonderfully made, and dated back to about a quarter of a century before. It was of the colour of the herb whose perfume it exhaled--lavender; and every time you approached her you began to think of damask--not roses, but table-cloths and household linen, put away in great drawers, in a country house. This is not a wardrobe style of story, but we must stay to mention the costume of Frances, Lady Rea, who came into the room with her cheeks redder than ever, although she had tried cold water, hot water, lavender water, and every cooling liquid she could think of. She was in peony red--a stiff silk of Sir Hampton's own choice, and she sought his eye, trembling lest he should be displeased; but as he emitted a crackle, produced by his cravat, as he bent his head in satisfactory assent, a bright smile shot across the pleasant face, dimpling it all over, and she exclaimed-- "Lor', my dears, how well you look. There, they may come now as soon as they like." "Mind your dress, Fanny," said Aunt Matty, austerely, as she sat minding her own. "Sh!" She held up her fan to command silence, as Sir Hampton cleared his throat, chuckled violently, and spoke-- "Er-rum, I think our guests will not find our circle much less attractive than--er-rum!--Ah, here they are!" Volume 2, Chapter XIV. AFTER DINNER.