L. E.
L. (who personated a flower-girl in a white chip hat) called the sisters
'the Evening and Morning Stars.' I was so proud of a compliment Jane
paid me on my new dignity of authorship,--a compliment from the author
of the 'Scottish Chiefs,'--the book that in childhood I had read
stealthily by moonlight, coiled up in my nursery-window, just near
enough to the sea to hear its music, while the fate of Sir William
Wallace made my heart pant and my tears flow!

"I saw there for the first time Julia Pardoe. She had just returned from
Portugal, and was escorted by her little, round father, the Major. She
was then in her dawn of life and literature, having published two
volumes about Portugal,--a pretty little fairy of a girl, with a wealth
of flaxen hair, a complexion made up of lilies and roses, with tiny feet
in white satin _bottines_ with scarlet heels, and a long, sweeping veil
of blue gauze spangled with silver stars. I think she dressed as some
Portuguese or Spanish character; for I remember a high comb in her hair.
I can only now recall her floating about under the blue gauze veil.

"I remember one group of Quakers among the glittering throng, who looked
sufficiently quaint to attract attention, while the matron of the party
said clever, caustic things, differing in quality as well as quantity
from the sparkling, playful jests and repartees, that, as the evening
passed, were flung about by Mr. Jerdan, the popular editor of the
'Literary Gazette,' the oracle of that time, and stammered forth by Dr.
Maginn. "The Doctor" and Mr. Jerdan and Theodore Hook entered together,
three men of mark, from whom much was expected--after supper.

"The Quaker matron was Mrs. Trollope, a portly lady, of any age between
thirty and forty, staid and sedate, as became her character, and
attentive to her 'thees' and 'thous,' which lent their cloak for plain
speaking, of which she was not chary. She frequently admonished her
daughters--perhaps adopted for the evening--against the vanities by
which they were encompassed on every side,--satirizing and striking
home, but never exhibiting ill-temper or actual bitterness. The
character was well sustained throughout the evening, and occasioned
quite as much fear as fun. When Theodore Hook asked her, according to
the fashion of those days, to take wine with him, she answered, 'Friend,
I think thou hast had enough already, and so have I.' There was nothing
particularly wise or witty in the words;