ced to be the perfection of
cookery; and when the meal was over, came a noise of little feet at the
parlour door, which being opened, there appeared, first, a tall nurse
with a dancing baby; second and third, two little girls with little
frocks, little trousers, long ringlets, blue eyes, and blue ribbons to
match; fourth, Master Alfred, now quite recovered from his illness, and
holding by the hand, fifth, Miss Ethel Newcome, blushing like a rose.

Hannah, grinning, acted as mistress of the ceremonies, calling out the
names of "Miss Newcomes, Master Newcomes, to see the Colonel, if you
please, ma'am," bobbing a curtsey, and giving a knowing nod to Master
Clive, as she smoothed her new silk apron. Hannah, too, was in new
attire, all crisp and rustling, in the Colonel's honour. Miss Ethel did
not cease blushing as she advanced towards her uncle; and the honest
campaigner started up, blushing too. Mr. Clive rose also, as little
Alfred, of whom he was a great friend, ran towards him. Clive rose,
laughed, nodded at Ethel, and ate gingerbread nuts all at the same time.
As for Colonel Thomas Newcome and his niece, they fell in love with
each other instantaneously, like Prince Camaralzaman and the Princess of
China.

I have turned away one artist: the poor creature was utterly incompetent
to depict the sublime, graceful, and pathetic personages and events with
which this history will most assuredly abound, and I doubt whether even
the designer engaged in his place can make such a portrait of Miss Ethel
Newcome as shall satisfy her friends and her own sense of justice. That
blush which we have indicated, he cannot render. How are you to copy
it with a steel point and a ball of printer's ink? That kindness which
lights up the Colonel's eyes; gives an expression to the very wrinkles
round about them; shines as a halo round his face;--what artist can
paint it? The painters of old, when they portrayed sainted personages,
were fain to have recourse to compasses and gold leaf--as if celestial
splendour could be represented by Dutch metal! As our artist cannot come
up to this task, the reader will be pleased to let his fancy paint for
itself the look of courtesy for a woman, admiration for a young beauty,
protection for an innocent child, all of which are expressed upon the
Colonel's kind face, as his eyes are set upon Ethel Newcome.

"Mamma has sent us to bid you welcome to England, uncle," says Miss
Ethel, advancing, and never think