as little of his handsome Cousin Ethel as possible, and
Ethel's brother, Barnes, whose hatred for Clive was not untinged by
jealousy, was the most vigorous of the family in spreading disagreeable
reports about his cousin, whom he spoke of as an impudent young puppy.

Even old Lady Kew was particularly rude to Colonel Newcome and Clive. On
Ethel's birthday she had a small party chiefly of girls of her own age
who came and played and sang together and enjoyed such mild refreshments
as sponge cake, jellies, tea, and the like. The Colonel, who was invited
to this little party, sent a fine present to his favourite Ethel; and
Clive and his friend J. J. made a funny series of drawings, representing
the life of a young lady as they imagined it, and drawing her progress
from her cradle upwards: now engaged with her doll, then with her dancing
master; now marching in her backboard; now crying over her German
lessons; and dressed for her first ball finally, and bestowing her hand
upon a dandy of preternatural ugliness, who was kneeling at her feet as
the happy man. This picture was the delight of the laughing, happy girls;
except, perhaps, the little cousins from Brianstone Square, who were
invited to Ethel's party, but were so overpowered by the prodigious new
dresses in which their mamma had attired them that they could admire
nothing but their rustling pink frocks, their enormous sashes, their
lovely new silk stockings.

Lady Kew, coming to London, attended on the party, and presented her
granddaughter with a sixpenny pincushion. The Colonel had sent Ethel a
beautiful little gold watch and chain. Her aunt had complimented her with
that refreshing work, "Allison's History of Europe," richly bound. Lady
Kew's pincushion made rather a poor figure among the gifts, whence
probably arose her ladyship's ill-humour.

Ethel's grandmother became exceedingly testy, when, the Colonel
arriving, Ethel ran up to him and thanked him for the beautiful watch,
in return for which she gave him a kiss, which I daresay amply repaid
Colonel Newcome; and shortly after him Mr. Clive arrived. As he entered,
all the girls who had been admiring his pictures began to clap their
hands. Mr. Clive Newcome blushed, and looked none the worse for that
indication of modesty.

Lady Kew had met Colonel Newcome a half-dozen times at her daughter's
house; but on this occasion she had quite forgotten him, for when the
Colonel made a bow, her ladyship regarded him