t she diverged to
mildly querulous references to family matters. Parson John had expressed
himself very rudely to Mr. Chillingly Gordon upon some book by a
foreigner,--Comte or Count, or some such name,--on which, so far as
she could pretend to judge, Mr. Gordon had uttered some very benevolent
sentiments about humanity, which, in the most insolent manner, Parson
John had denounced as an attack on religion. But really Parson John
was too High Church for her. Having thus disposed of Parson John, she
indulged some ladylike wailings on the singular costume of the three
Miss Chillinglys. They had been asked by Sir Peter, unknown to her--so
like him--to meet their guests; to meet Lady Glenalvon and Miss Travers,
whose dress was so perfect (here she described their dress); and they
came in pea-green with pelerines of mock blonde, and Miss Sally with
corkscrew ringlets and a wreath of jessamine, "which no girl after
eighteen would venture to wear."

"But, my dear," added her ladyship, "your poor father's family are
certainly great oddities. I have more to put up with than any one knows.
I do my best to carry it off. I know my duties, and will do them."

Family grievances thus duly recorded and lamented, Lady Chillingly
returned to her guests.

Evidently unconscious of her husband's designs on Cecilia, she dismissed
her briefly: "A very handsome young lady, though rather too blonde for
her taste, and certainly with an air _distingue_." Lastly, she enlarged
on the extreme pleasure she felt on meeting again the friend of her
youth, Lady Glenalvon.

"Not at all spoilt by the education of the great world, which, alas!
obedient to the duties of wife and mother, however little my sacrifices
are appreciated, I have long since relinquished. Lady Glenalvon suggests
turning that hideous old moat into a fernery,--a great improvement. Of
course your poor father makes objections."

Tom's letter was written on black-edged paper, and ran thus:--

DEAR SIR,--Since I had the honour to see you in London I have had a sad
loss: my poor uncle is no more. He died very suddenly after a hearty
supper. One doctor says it was apoplexy, another valvular disease of the
heart. He has left me his heir, after providing for his sister: no one
had an idea that he had saved so much money. I am quite a rich man now.
And I shall leave the veterinary business, which of late--since I
took to reading, as you kindly advised--is not much to my liking The
prin