ily consisted of his lady, a son, a
fine young man, just coming of age, and two very sweet amiable daughters.
I liked this place much better than my first, there was so much more
pleasant noise and bustle--so much more grand company, and so many more
opportunities of improving myself. Oh, how I liked to see the grand
coaches drive up to the door, with the grand company! and though, amidst
that company, there were some who did not look very grand, there were
others, and not a few, who did. Some of the ladies quite captivated me;
there was the Marchioness of in particular. This young lady puts me much
in mind of her; it is true, the Marchioness, as I saw her then, was about
fifteen years older than this young gentlewoman is now, and not so tall
by some inches, but she had the very same hair, and much the same neck
and shoulders--no offence, I hope? And then some of the young gentlemen,
with their cool, haughty, care-for-nothing looks, struck me as being very
fine fellows. There was one in particular, whom I frequently used to
stare at, not altogether unlike some one I have seen hereabouts--he had a
slight cast in his eye, and . . . but I won't enter into every
particular. And then the footmen! Oh, how those footmen helped to
improve me with their conversation! Many of them could converse much
more glibly than their masters, and appeared to have much better taste.
At any rate, they seldom approved of what their masters did. I remember
being once with one in the gallery of the play-house, when something of
Shakespeare's was being performed: some one in the first tier of boxes
was applauding very loudly. 'That's my fool of a governor,' said he; 'he
is weak enough to like Shakespeare--I don't;--he's so confoundedly low,
but he won't last long--going down. Shakespeare culminated--I think that
was the word--culminated some time ago.'

"And then the professor of elocution, of whom my governors used to take
lessons, and of which lessons I had my share, by listening behind the
door; but for that professor of elocution I should not be able to round
my periods--an expression of his--in the manner I do.

"After I had been three years at this place, my mistress died. Her
death, however, made no great alteration in my way of living, the family
spending their winters in London, and their summers at their old seat in
S--- as before. At last, the young ladies, who had not yet got husbands,
which was strange enough, seeing, as