it is all a mistake.'

'He laughs, and so does Bessie,' said the mother.

'Laughs! Does he? But I do assure you Arthurine never meant any
place in particular; she only intended to describe the way things go
on in country districts, don't you understand? She was talking one
day at the Myttons, and they were all so much amused that they
wanted her to write it down. She read it one evening when they were
with us, and they declared it was too good not to be published--and
almost before she knew it, Fred Mytton's literary friend got hold of
it and took it to the agency of this paper. But indeed, indeed, she
never thought of its being considered personal, and is as vexed as
possible at the way in which it has been taken up. She has every
feeling about your kindness to us, and she was so shocked when Pansy
Mytton told us that the Admiral was furious.'

'Whoever told Miss Mytton so made a great mistake. The Admiral only
is--is--amused--as you know gentlemen will be at young girls'
little--little scrapes,' returned Mrs. Merrifield, longing to say
'impertinences,' but refraining, and scarcely believing what
nevertheless was true, that Arthurine did not know how personal she
had been, although her mother said it all over again twice. Bessie,
however, did believe it, from experience of resemblances where she
had never intended direct portraiture; and when there was a somewhat
earnest invitation to a garden party at the Gap, the Merrifields not
only accepted for themselves, but persuaded as many of their
neighbours as they could to countenance the poor girl. 'There is
something solid at the bottom in spite of all the effervescence,'
said Bessie.

It was late in the year for a garden party, being on the 2d of
October, but weather and other matters had caused delays, and the
Indian summer had begun with warm sun and exquisite tints. 'What
would not the maple and the liquid amber have been by this time,'
thought the sisters, 'if they had been spared.' Some of the PETITE
NOBLESSE, however, repented of their condescension when they saw how
little it was appreciated. Mrs. Arthuret, indeed, was making
herself the best hostess that a lady who had served no
apprenticeship could be to all alike, but Arthurine or 'Atty,' as
Daisy and Pansy were heard shouting to her--all in white flannels, a
man all but the petticoats--seemed to be absorbed in a little court
of the second-rate people of Bonchamp, some whom, as Mrs. Greville