pplication that
it would grant the request of those two or three gathered together.

Our young folks were up betimes on Sunday morning, and arrayed
themselves in those smart new dresses which were to fascinate the
Tunbridge folks, and, with the escort of brother Charley, paced the
little town, and the quaint Pantiles, and the pretty common, long ere
the company was at breakfast, or the bells had rung to church. It
was Hester who found out where Harry Warrington's lodging must be, by
remarking Mr. Gumbo in an undress, with his lovely hair in curl-papers,
drawing a pair of red curtains aside, and opening a window-sash, whence
he thrust his head and inhaled the sweet morning breeze. Mr. Gumbo did
not happen to see the young people from Oakhurst, though they beheld him
clearly enough. He leaned gracefully from the window; he waved a large
feather brush, with which he condescended to dust the furniture of
the apartment within; he affably engaged in conversation with a
cherry-cheeked milkmaid, who was lingering under the casement, and
kissed his lily hand to her. Gumbo's hand sparkled with rings, and his
person was decorated with a profusion of jewellery--gifts, no doubt, of
the fair who appreciated the young African. Once or twice more before
breakfast-time the girls passed near that window. It remained opened,
but the room behind it was blank. No face of Harry Warrington appeared
there. Neither spoke to the other of the subject on which both were
brooding. Hetty was a little provoked with Charley, who was clamorous
about breakfast, and told him he was always thinking of eating. In reply
to her sarcastic inquiry, he artlessly owned he should like another
cheese-cake, and good-natured Theo, laughing, said she had a sixpence,
and if the cake-shop were open of a Sunday morning Charley should have
one. The cake-shop was open: and Theo took out her little purse, netted
by her dearest friend at school, and containing her pocket-piece, her
grandmother's guinea, her slender little store of shillings--nay, some
copper money at one end; and she treated Charley to the meal which he
loved.

A great deal of fine company was at church. There was that funny old
Duchess, and old Madame Bernstein, with Lady Maria at her side; and Mr.
Wolfe, of course, by the side of Miss Lowther, and singing with her out
of the same psalm-book; and Mr. Richardson with a bevy of ladies. One
of them is Miss Fielding, papa tells them after church, Harry Fieldi