ently to put an all-
important question.

"How do you like England?"

"I think it's lovely," said Cornelia.

In the fishmonger's shop Mrs Rhodes and Mrs Muir came up in their
turn, and opened wide eyes of surprise as the strange girl again
repeated their names in her high monotone. Evidently this was an
American custom. Strange people, the Americans! The ladies simpered,
and put the inevitable query: "How do you like England?"

"I think it's sweet," said Cornelia.

The draper's shop was a revelation of old-world methods. One anaemic-
looking assistant endeavoured to attend to three counters and half a
dozen customers, with an unruffled calm which they vainly strove to
emulate. Miss Briskett produced a pattern of grey ribbon which she
wished to match. Four different boxes were lifted down from the wall,
and their contents ransacked in vain, while the patient waiters received
small sops in the shape of cases and trays, shoved along to their corner
of the counter. When persuasion failed to convince Miss Briskett that
an elephant grey exactly matched her silvery fragment--"I'll see if we
have it in stock!" cried the damsel, hopefully, and promptly disappeared
into space. The minutes passed by; Cornelia frowned and fidgeted, was
introduced to a fourth dame, and declared that England was "'cute."
Weary waiters for flannel and small-wares looked at their watches, and
fidgeted restlessly, but no one rebelled, nor showed any inclination to
walk out of the shop in disgust. At length the assistant reappeared,
flushed and panting, to regret that they were "sold out," and "What is
your next pleasure, madam?"

Madam's next pleasure was a skein of wool, which investigation again
failed to produce. "But we have a very nice line in kid gloves; can I
show you something in that line this morning?" Miss Briskett refused to
be tempted, and produced a coin from her purse in payment of a small
account. Cornelia was interested to be introduced to "hef-a-crown," and
tried to calculate what would be left after the subtraction of a
mysterious "seven-three." She had abundant time to calculate, for, to
the suspicious mind, it might really appear as if the assistant had
emigrated to foreign climes with the half-crown as capital in hand. The
little shop was dull and stuffy; an odour of flannel filled the air; the
faces of the patient waiters were colourless and depressed. Cornelia
flounced on her seat, and curled her beautiful l