ing and bowing
before that painted High Dutch Jezebel. Oh, it's a shame! a shame!"

"Confusion!" here broke out Colonel Wolfe, and making a dash at his hat,
ran from the room. He had seen the young lady whom he admired and her
guardian walking across the Pantiles on foot to the Baroness's party,
and they came up whilst the Countess of Yarmouth-Walmoden was engaged
in conversation with the two lords spiritual and temporal, and these two
made the lowest reverences and bows to the Countess, and waited until
she had passed in at the door on the Bishop's arm.

Theo turned away from the window with a sad, almost awestricken face.
Hetty still remained there, looking from it with indignation in her
eyes, and a little red spot on each cheek.

"A penny for little Hetty's thoughts," says mamma, coming to the window
to lead the child away.

"I am thinking what I should do if I saw papa bowing to that woman,"
says Hetty.

Tea and a hissing kettle here made their appearance, and the family sate
down to partake of their evening meal,--leaving, however, Miss Hetty,
from her place, command of the window, which she begged her brother
not to close. That young gentleman had been down amongst the crowd to
inspect the armorial bearings of the Countess's and other sedans, no
doubt, and also to invest sixpence in a cheese-cake, by mamma's order
and his own desire, and he returned presently with this delicacy wrapped
up in a paper.

"Look, mother," he comes back and says, "do you see that big man in
brown beating all the pillars with a stick? That is the learned Mr.
Johnson. He comes to the Friars sometimes to see our master. He was
sitting with some friends just now at the tea-table before Mrs. Brown's
tart-shop. They have tea there, twopence a cup; I heard Mr. Johnson say
he had had seventeen cups--that makes two-and-tenpence--what a sight of
money for tea!"

"What would you have, Charley?" asks Theo.

"I think I would have cheese-cakes," says Charley, sighing, as his teeth
closed on a large slice, "and the gentleman whom Mr. Johnson was with,"
continues Charley, with his mouth quite full, "was Mr. Richardson who
wrote----"

"Clarissa!" cry all the women in a breath, and run to the window to see
their favourite writer. By this time the sun was sunk, the stars were
twinkling overhead, and the footman came and lighted the candles in the
Baroness's room opposite our spies.

Theo and her mother were standing together looking from the