have yet to learn whether she ranks by his birth,
or his present title. If so, a young Baronetcy cannot possibly be a
gain. One thing is certain. She cares very little about it. She is most
eccentric. But remember what I have told you. It will be serviceable
when you are speaking of the family.

'The dinner-hour, six. It would no doubt be full seven in Town. I am
convinced you are half-an-hour too early. I had the post of honour
to the right of Sir Franks. Evan to the right of Lady Jocelyn. Most
fortunately he was in the best of spirits--quite brilliant. I saw the
eyes of that sweet Rose glisten. On the other side of me sat my
pet diplomatist, and I gave him one or two political secrets which
astonished him. Of course, my dear, I was wheedled out of them. His
contempt for our weak intellects is ineffable. But a woman must now and
then ingratiate herself at the expense of her sex. This is perfectly
legitimate. Tory policy at the table. The Opposition, as Andrew says,
not represented. So to show that we were human beings, we differed
among ourselves, and it soon became clear to me that Lady Jocelyn is the
rankest of Radicals. My secret suspicion is, that she is a person of no
birth whatever, wherever her money came from. A fine woman--yes; still
to be admired, I suppose, by some kind of men; but totally wanting in
the essentially feminine attractions.

'There was no party, so to say. I will describe the people present,
beginning with the insignifacants.

'First, Mr. Parsley, the curate of Beckley. He eats everything at table,
and agrees with everything. A most excellent orthodox young clergyman.
Except that he was nearly choked by a fish-bone, and could not quite
conceal his distress--and really Rose should have repressed her desire
to laugh till the time for our retirement--he made no sensation. I saw
her eyes watering, and she is not clever in turning it off. In that
nobody ever equalled dear Papa. I attribute the attack almost entirely
to the tightness of the white neck-cloths the young clergymen of the
Established Church wear. But, my dear, I have lived too long away from
them to wish for an instant the slightest change in anything they think,
say, or do. The mere sight of this young man was most refreshing to my
spirit. He may be the shepherd of a flock, this poor Mr. Parsley, but he
is a sheep to one young person.

'Mr. Drummond Forth. A great favourite of Lady Jocelyn's; an old friend.
He went with them to the