rights, or a groom of the chambers to light fresh candles,
functionaries, especially the former, who would be much more
incommoded by my presence than I should be by theirs. Good gracious!
there was a gentleman down and dressed already; sitting with his back
to me, immersed in the thrilling pages of "The Drawing-Room Scrap
Book," which he was studying upside-down. I came in very softly, and
he never heard me, nor turned his head, but I knew the back of that
head pretty well. It was Cousin John. I also took a book, and sat
down.

"Perhaps," I thought, "he's not going to speak to me at all. Well,
what do I care? I've a temper, too, if it comes to that."

So I read my book assiduously; it was the "Comic Almanac," but I don't
know that it made me feel very much inclined to laugh. The clock
ticked loud and disagreeably. I determined not to speak till I was
spoken to; but after a time the silence grew irksome, and the ticking
of the clock so loud, that I ventured on a slight cough, merely to
break it. "Ahem," said I, still intent on the "Comic Almanac." John
turned slowly round, made a half rise, as if out of compliment to my
presence, and returned to "The Drawing-Room Scrap Book," which,
however, he was now reading the right way. This would not do; I
resolved to wait a little longer, just a quarter of an hour by the
clock, and see whether he would not have the common civility to speak
to me. What a long quarter of an hour it was! The hand reached it at
last--it passed it--I gave him another five minutes. It was getting
painful. I spoke, and the sound of my own voice quite startled me, yet
was my remark as harmless and commonplace as well could be.

"John," said I, "what time do we dine?"

"A quarter before eight, I believe," answered John, quite
good-humouredly, and as if nothing had happened to estrange us. "Dear
me, Kate, how early you're dressed!"

I could have cried with vexation; but I resolved, if possible, to find
a sore place somewhere, and give him "one" before I had done with him;
so I made a saucy face, and asked him, half laughing, whether "he
didn't think I had driven them very well from the station?"

"Inimitably, Kate," was his reply; "I hadn't the least idea you were
so accomplished a charioteer."

I should have burst into tears, I verily believe, but just then Lady
Scapegrace sailed in, and the usual forms of society had to be gone
through; and she kissed me, and shook hands with Mr. Jones, as if sh