what Mrs. Browne called a Mocha carpet, and
they kept negroes instead of white servants, and the barn was full of
boxes of all sizes, which had arrived, from time to time, bearing
foreign marks upon them, thus impressing the lower class with a species
of awe as they thought how far they had come, and how much they had
probably cost.

Then, the family had traveled and consorted with nobility, and seen the
Queen and the Pope, and in consequence of all this there was quite a
crowd of people at the station when the New York express stopped then
and deposited upon the platform twelve trunks, three hat boxes, an
English terrier, a Dongola cat, with innumeral satchels and
port-manteaus, and seven people--Mr. and Mrs. Rossiter-Browne, Augusta
Browne, Allen Browne, Daisy McPherson, a French maid, and Lord Hardy.
_He_, plainly dressed in a gray suit, which did not fit him at all, but
with a decidedly aristocratic look upon his face as he glanced curiously
at the crowd gathering around the Brownes, and greeting them with noisy
demonstrations: Daisy, in deep black, with her vail thrown back from her
lovely lace and a gleam of ridicule and contempt in her blue eyes as
they flashed upon Lord Hardy as if for sympathy; the French maid, in
white apron and cap, tired, homesick and bewildered with Mrs. Browne's
repeated calls to know if she was sure she had all the bags, and shawls,
and fans, and umbrellas, and the shrill voice of a little boy who
shouted to her as the train moved off, "I say, hain't you left your
bunnet in the cars; 'tain't on your head;" Allen, stunning in his long,
light overcoat, tight pants, pointed shoes, cane, and eye-glasses, which
he found very necessary as he pointed out his luggage, and in reply to
the baggage-master's hearty "How are you, my boy?" drawled out, "Quite
well--thanks--but awful tired, you know;" Augusta, in a Jersey jacket,
with gloves buttoned to her elbows, and an immense hat, with two
feathers on the back; Mr. Browne in a long ulster, and soft hat, with
gloves, which his wife made him wear; and Mrs. Browne, in a Paris dress,
fearfully and wonderfully made, and a poke bonnet, so long and so pokey
that to see her face was like looking down a narrow lane.

No wonder the plain people of Ridgeville, to whom poke bonnets, and
jersey jackets, and long gloves, and pointed toes, were then new, were
startled, and a little abashed at so much foreign style, especially as
it was accompanied by nobility in