.

"Prepare to be ravished, Richard," said my lady, with fine sarcasm.

"You were yourself born in the colonies, miss," I retorted. "I confess
to a thrill, and will not pretend that I have seen such sights often
enough to be sated."

"La!" exclaimed Lady Sarah, who had overheard; "I vow this is refreshing.
Behold a new heaven and a new earth, Mr. Carvel?"

Indeed, much to the amusement of the company, I took no pains to hide my
enthusiasm at the brilliancy of the scene which burst upon me. A great
orchestra rose in the midst of a stately grove lined on all four sides
with supper-boxes of brave colours, which ran in straight tiers or swept
around in circles. These were filled with people of all sorts and
conditions, supping and making merry. Other people were sauntering under
the trees, keeping step with the music. Lamps of white and blue and red
and green hung like luminous fruit from the branches, or clustered in
stars and crescents upon the buildings.

"Why, Richard, you are as bad as Farmer Colin."

"'O Patty! Soft in feature,
I've been at dear Vauxhall;
No paradise is sweeter,
Not that they Eden call.'"

whispered Dolly, paraphrasing.

At that instant came hurrying Mr. Tom Tyers, who was one of the brothers,
proprietors of the gardens. He was a very lively young fellow who seemed
to know everybody, and he desired to know if we would walk about a little
before being shown to the boxes reserved for us.

"They are on the right side, Mr. Tyers?" demanded Mr. Storer.

"Oh, to be sure, sir. Your man was most particular to stipulate the pink
and blue flowered brocades, next the Prince of Wales's."

"But you must have the band stop that piece, Mr. Tyers," cried Lady
Sarah. "I declare, it is too much for my nerves. Let them play Dibbin's
Ephesian Matron."

"As your Ladyship wishes," responded the obliging Mr. Tyers, and sent off
an uniformed warder to the band-master.

As he led us into the Rotunda, my Lady Dolly, being in one of her
whimsical humours, began to recite in the manner of the guide-book, to
the vast diversion of our party and the honest citizens gaping at us.

"This, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen," says the minx, "is that
marvellous Rotunda commonly known as the 'umbrella,' where the music
plays on wet nights, and where we have our masquerades and ridottos.
Their Royal Highnesses are very commonly seen here on such occasions.
As you see, it is decorated