as a very little old woman, very
pretty, very grey, very nicely dressed, and just a little deaf. Mary
Bonner kissed her, and murmured some word of thanks. The old woman
stood for a few seconds, looking at the beauty,--astounded like the
rest of the world. "Somebody told me she was good-looking," Mrs.
Brownlow said to Patience;--"but I did not expect to see her like
that."

"Is she not lovely?"

"She is a miracle, my dear! I hope she won't steal all the nice
young men away from you and your sister, eh? Yes;--yes. What does Mr.
Newton say to her?" Patience, however, knew that she need not answer
all the questions which Mrs. Brownlow asked, and she left this
question unanswered.

Two or three elderly ladies came in, and four or five young ladies,
and an old gentleman who sat close to Mrs. Brownlow and squeezed her
hand very often, and a middle-aged gentleman who was exceedingly
funny, and two young gentlemen who carried the tea and cakes about,
but did not talk much. Such were the guests, and the young ladies,
who no doubt were accustomed to Mrs. Brownlow's parties, took it all
as it was intended, and were not discontented. There was one young
lady, however, who longed to ask a question, but durst not. Had Ralph
Newton promised that he would come? Clary was sitting between the
old gentleman who seemed to be so fond of Mrs. Brownlow's hand and
her cousin Mary. She said not a word,--nor, indeed, was there much
talking among the guests in general. The merry, middle-aged gentleman
did the talking, combining with it a good deal of exhilarating
laughter at his own wit. The ladies sat round, and sipped their tea
and smiled. That middle-aged gentleman certainly earned his mild
refreshment;--for the party without him must have been very dull.
Then there came a breath of air,--or, as Mrs. Brownlow called it, a
keen north wind; and the old lady retreated into the house. "Don't
let me take anybody else in,--only I can't stand a wind like that."
The old gentleman accompanied her, and then the elderly ladies. The
young ladies came next, and the man of wit, with the silent young
gentlemen, followed, laden with scarfs, parasols, fans, and stray
teacups. "I don't think we used to have such cold winds in July,"
said Mrs. Brownlow. The old gentleman pressed her hand once more, and
whispered into her ear that there had certainly been a great change.

Suddenly Ralph Newton was among them. Clarissa had not heard him
announced, and to her