ith something more wonderful. Is she really a
lady?'

'By birth,' said Mrs. Edmonstone. It is only her high spirits and small
judgment that make her so absurd.'

'How loud she is, too!' said Laura. 'What was all that about horses,
Guy?'

'She was saying she drove two such spirited horses, that all the grooms
were afraid of them; and when she wanted to take out her little boy, Mr.
Brownlow said "You may do as you like my dear, but I won't have my son's
neck broken, whatever you do with your own." So Maurice answered by
declaring he knew a lady who drove not two, but four-in-hand, and when
the leaders turned round and looked her in the face, gave a little nod,
and said, 'I'm obliged for your civility.'

'Oh! I wish I had heard that,' cried Laura.

'Did you hear her saying she smoked cigars?'

Everyone cried out with horror or laughter.

'Of course, Maurice told a story of a lady who had a cigar case hanging
at her chatelaine, and always took one to refresh her after a ball.'

Guy was interrupted by the announcement of his horse, and rode off at
once to Mr. Lascelles.

On his return he went straight to the drawing-room, where Mrs.
Edmonstone was reading to Charles, and abruptly exclaimed,--

'I told you wrong. She only said she had smoked one cigar.' Then
perceiving that he was interrupting, he added, 'I beg your pardon,' and
went away.

The next evening, on coming in from a solitary skating, he found the
younger party in the drawing-room, Charles entertaining the Miss Harpers
with the story of the cigars. He hastily interposed--

'I told you it was but one.'

'Ay, tried one, and went on. She was preparing an order for Havannah.'

'I thought I told you I repeated the conversation incorrectly.'

'If it is not the letter, it is the spirit,' said Charles, vexed at the
interference with his sport of amazing the Miss Harpers with outrageous
stories of Mrs. Brownlow.

'It is just like her,' said one of them. 'I could believe anything of
Mrs. Brownlow.'

'You must not believe this,' said Guy, gently. 'I repeated incorrectly
what had better have been forgotten, and I must beg my foolish
exaggeration to go no further.'

Charles became sullenly silent; Guy stood thoughtful; and Laura and
Amabel could not easily sustain the conversation till the visitors took
their leave.

'Here's a pother!' grumbled Charles, as soon as they were gone.

'I beg your pardon for spoiling your story,' said Guy; but it was my
fa