sermon. Above all, the tea-service was there--the famous set
in real silver presented to the late Reverend Limpenny by his flock,
and Miss Priscilla--she at the card-table--wore her best brooch with
a lock of his hair arranged therein as a _fleur-de-lys_.

I wish I could convey to you some of the innocent mirth of those
"evenings" in Troy--those _noctes Limpennianae_ when the ladies
brought their cap-boxes (though the Buzzas and Limpennys were but
semi-detached neighbours), and the Admiral and his wife insisted on
playing against each other, so that the threepenny points never
affected their weekly accounts. Those were happy days when the young
men were not above singing the "Death of Nelson," or joining in a
glee, and arming the young ladies home afterwards. In those days
"Hocken's Slip" had not yet become the "Victoria Quay," and we talked
of the "Rope Walk" where we now say "Marine Parade." Alas! our
tastes have altered with Troy.

Yet we were vastly genteel. We even had our shibboleth, a verdict to
be passed before anything could hope for toleration in Troy.
The word to be pronounced was "CUMEELFO," and all that was not
_Cumeelfo_ was Anathema.

So often did I hear this word from Miss Limpenny's lips that I grew
in time to clothe it with an awful meaning. It meant to me, as
nearly as I can explain, "All Things Sanctioned by the Principles of
the Great Exhibition of 1851," and included as time went on--

Crochet Antimacassars.
Art in the style of the "Greek Slave."
"Elegant Extracts," and the British Poets as edited by
Gilfillan.
Corkscrew Curls and Prunella Boots.
Album Verses.
Quadrille-dancing, and the _Deux-temps_.
Popular Science.
Proposals on the bended Knee.
Conjuring and Variety Entertainments.
The Sentimental Ballad.
The Proprieties, etc., etc., etc.

The very spirit of this word breathed over the Limpenny drawing-room
to-night, and Miss Priscilla's lips seemed to murmur it as she gazed
across to where her sister Lavinia was engaged in a round game with
the young people. These were Admiral Buzza's three daughters, Sophy,
Jane, and Calypso--the last named after her father's old ship--and
young Mr. Moggridge, the amusing collector of customs. They were
playing with ratafias for counters (ratafias were _cumeelfo_), and
peals of guileless laughter from time to time broke in upon the grave
silence of the whist-table.

For always,