was out of the body of their
patient and patroness, it passes me to say; as well should a player
tarry upon the Stage long after the epilogue has been spoken, the
curtain lowered, and the lights all put out. Yet were Pall Mall and
Warwick Lane faithful, not only unto the death, but beyond it, to
Hanover Square. A coachful of these grave gentlemen were bidden to the
burial, although it was probable that words would run so high among them
as for wigs to be tossed out of the windows. And although it is but ill
fighting and base fence to draw upon a foe in a coach, I think (so
bitter are our Physicians against one another) that they would make but
little ado in breaking their blades in halves and stabbing at one
another crosswise as they sat, with their handkerchiefs for hilts.

It was on the eighth night after her demise, and at half-past nine of
the clock, that my Grandmother was Buried. I was dressed early in the
afternoon in a suit of black, full trimmed, falling bands of white
cambric, edged, and a little mourning sword with a crape knot, and
slings of black velvet. Then Mrs. Talmash knotted round my neck a
mourning-cloak that was about eight-times too large for me, and with no
gentle hand flattened on my head a hat bordered by heavy sable plumes.
On the left shoulder of my cloak there was embroidered in gold and
coloured silks a little escocheon of arms; and with this, in my
child-like way, my fingers hankered to play; but with threats that to me
were dreadful, and not without sundry nips and pinches, and sly clouts,
I was bidden to be still, and stir not from a certain stool apportioned
to me in the great Withdrawing-room. Not on this side of the tomb shall
I forget the weary, dreary sense of desolation that came over me when,
thus equipped, or rather swaddled and hampered in garments strange to
me, and of which I scarcely knew the meaning, I was left alone for many
hours in a dismal room, whose ancient splendour was now all under the
eclipse wrought by the undertakers. And I pray that few children may so
cruelly and suddenly have their happiness taken away from them, and from
pampered darlings become all at once despised and friendless outcasts.

By and by the house began to fill with company; and one that was acting
as Groom of the Chambers, and marshalling the guests to their places, I
heard whisper to the Harbinger, who first called out the names at the
Stair-head, that Clarencieux king-at-arms (who was then won