d "R.S.V.P." and "Evening dress _de rigueur_" she
thought it best to decline. But her kind leniency was thrown away, for
within half an hour eight notes dropped in upon us, couched in the
politest phraseology.

Here was Langrish's, for instance:--

"Everard Langrish, Esquire, begs to thank Mrs Jones for asking him to
tea at six sharp, when he will be very pleased to fall in with her
wishes and be of service in any other way her better feelings may
dictate."

Langrish told me afterwards he cribbed this last sentence out of a story
he had read in a weekly newspaper. He rather fancied it was "on the
spot."

Trimble's was less romantic:--

"Dear Madam,--I accept with thanks. Sarah gets rather outside
sometimes, but we do what we can for him. Till then,--

"I am yours affectionately,--

"A.J.R. Trimble."

Warminster's was, no doubt, meant to be impressive:--"The President of
the Philosophical Conversation Club presents his compliments to Mrs
Jones, and desires to inform her of his intention to wait upon her at
the hour named in her letter. He trusts that Mrs Jones is in good
health, and that her ailing child will be spared to her a little longer.
Having several matters to attend to, the President of the Philosophical
Conversation Club must now abruptly terminate, namely, Percy Algernon
Warminster."

The ending seemed to me decidedly weak compared with the rest. I will
only give one more--that of Coxhead:--

"Dear Mrs Jones, I'll come to tea;
At six o'clock you shall me see.
I'm sorry Sarah's been laid up
And drinks his physic from a cup.
Unless unto the contrary I hear.
My Eton suit I think I'll wear.
And now 'farewell,' as great John Knox said.
Yours truly, Samuel Wilberforce Coxhead."

This effusion struck me as rather like cheek; but my mother seemed to
like it.

As evening approached I began to grow very nervous, and have to confess
that my mother was the cause of my concern. I was so afraid she was not
properly impressed with the gravity of the occasion--that perhaps she
would not be dressed at her best--or that the tea might not be up to the
mark--or that for any cause the fellows should consider they had been
"done." I'm sure I wearied the life out of her by my inquiries as to
the nature of the jam, as to whether the cake would go round twice,
whether any of the teacups were cracked, whether the nine chairs ranged
round the little room were all sound on their legs, who woul