the drawing-room," Anne
said, looking at something so splendid that Ursula thought it was good
enough for the Queen. But Sir Robert shook his head.

"The drawing-room carpet will do very well," he said. "It will last out
my day, and your brother will prefer to please himself."

This brought a little cloud upon Anne Dorset's placid face, for she too,
like Mr. Beecham, had a brother whose wife it was not agreeable to think
of as mistress in the old house. She went on quickly after that looking
in at no more shops. Perhaps she who could buy everything she wanted (as
Ursula thought) had on the whole more painful feelings in looking at
them, than had the little girl beside her, whose whole thoughts were
occupied by the question whether she would have enough money left to buy
her sister Janey one of those new neckties which were "the fashion."
Janey did not often get anything that was the fashion. But at any rate
Ursula made notes and laid up a great many things in her mind to tell
Janey of--which would be next best.

Mrs. Copperhead was seated in a corner of her vast drawing-room when her
visitors arrived, and her pale little countenance brightened at sight of
them. They were the nearest approach to "her own people" that the poor
soul possessed. She received their compliments upon her ball with
deprecating looks.

"I am sure you are very good--very good to say so. I am afraid it was
not much amusement to you. They were not the kind of people--"

"I scarcely knew a soul," said Sir Robert; "it was a curious sensation.
It does one good now and then to have a sensation like that. It shows
you that after all you are not such a fine fellow as you thought
yourself. Once before I experienced something of the same feeling. It
was at a ball at the Tuileries--but even then, after a while, I found
English people I knew, though I didn't know the French grandees; but, by
Jove! except yourself and Mr. Copperhead, Clara, I knew nobody here."

Mrs. Copperhead felt the implied censure more than she was intended to
feel it.

"Mr. Copperhead does not care about cultivating fashionable people," she
said, with a little spirit. "He prefers his old friends."

"That is very nice of him," cried Anne, "so much the kindest way. I
liked it so much. At most balls we go to, people come and ask me to
dance for duty, pretending not to see that my dancing days are over."

"She talks nonsense," said Sir Robert. "Clara, I must trust to you to
put th