rkable feature of the game to Sir Robert, and, when it was
over, the first thought of both was to place a chair for her in the
corner she generally occupied. They were not in haste,--it was
impossible to associate the idea of hurry or flurry with either of
them,--but somehow there was a little collision between them in doing
this, followed by formal bows and elaborate mutual apologies, which were
broken in upon by Miss Aglonby's low voice, saying, "Brother Edmund, I
feared that you had slipped again.--He sustained a grave injury in that
way last winter" (this to Sir Robert), "and I am always afraid that the
disastrous experience may be repeated.--Brother Gregory, I thank you. I
am entirely comfortable, and I beg that you will be seated now. Perhaps
our guest will do us the favor to resume the very instructive and
entertaining discourse with which he was beguiling us earlier in the
evening."

Thus adjured, Sir Robert proceeded to instruct and entertain, with such
success that all three of his companions were charmed, though they gave
no frivolous evidences of it, such as laughing heartily, interrupting
him to interject phrases or opinions into the "discourse," or replying
in an animated strain. They listened with intelligent seriousness to
what he had to say, weighed it apparently, replied to it with gravity,
responded to some jest with a smile; but, although they were not people
to approve of crackling thorns under a pot, or any form of folly, they
were, in their way, appreciative of the culture, humor, and insight he
showed. Mr. Aglonby begged to be favored with his "observations" on
America, and added that "the dispassionate reflections of an intelligent
foreigner should be esteemed of the utmost value by all judicious
patriots and enlightened political economists, calling attention, as
they often did, to evils and dangers whose existence had not been
previously suspected." Mr. Gregory Aglonby wished to hear more of his
travels among "that God-forsaken people the French." Miss Aglonby was
eager to know more of the England of "Bracebridge Hall."

When bedtime came at last ("the proper season for repose," dear old Anne
Buller called it, when she rose to "retire"), another courtesy was
executed in front of Sir Robert by the chatelaine of "Heart's Content,"
who said, "How truly it has been remarked that we owe some of our
keenest pleasures in life to strangers! You must permit me to thank you
again for your improving and