self decidedly agreeable to everyone. Lippa amuses herself to a
certain extent, but she becomes irritated by the assiduous attentions of
Captain Harkness, to whom she has taken a violent dislike. She gets
more and more out of patience with him and at length is almost rude. It
appears to have no effect upon him whatever, for like a great many other
people he has a very good opinion of himself, and that this girl is not
pleased with his attentions never enters his well-curled head. Philippa
has taken his fancy and as he has just made up his mind that it is time
to enter the blissful (?) state of matrimony, she seems to him to be the
exact person to make his wife; money makes no difference, for he is one
of those fortunate individuals who has almost more than he knows what to
do with. That Miss Seaton will have nothing to do with him, has not
crossed his mind yet.

The party disperse again at the station pouring into Mrs Boothly's ear
many sweet sentences, which had she been listening would have made her
think that going up the river in a boat and lunching on the bank was
almost heaven upon earth; but poor dear lady she is longing to get home,
feeling painfully conscious of the shapeliness of her shoes; and the
pain thereby caused, absorbs all her faculties for the present: but when
the above mentioned articles are removed, she thinks with pleasure how
much everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, and she makes up her mind to
have a similar day; only, made more pleasant to her by large and
shapeless boots. Wise Mrs Boothly--

Garden-parties, balls, dinner-parties, follow each other in rather
monotonous succession, and Lippa is beginning to tire of them, she has
been to three balls where a certain young man has been conspicuous by
his absence; and it is almost a week since he has dropped in to tea, and
Miss Seaton misses him more than she will own to herself. She is feeling
out of sorts this afternoon and has betaken herself to the back
drawing-room, which is only curtained off from the front, leaving Mabel
and Lady Dadford in earnest conversation.

Presently the door opens, and Ponsonby comes in. 'All alone,' says he.
'I thought you always had some one worshipping at your shrine.'

'Indeed, you are much mistaken,' replies she laughing, 'but I didn't
know you were in London--'

'I only came back this morning--'

'Mabel and Lady Dadford are in there,' interrupts Philippa
indifferently, pointing to the front room.

'Well,