g dandies or old dowagers?"

"Mamma is very odd and sometimes very captious, my dear Colonel," said
Lady Anne, with a blush; "she suffers so frightfully from tic that we
are all bound to pardon her."

Truth to tell, old Lady Kew had been particularly rude to Colonel
Newcome and Clive. Ethel's birthday befell in the spring, on which
occasion she was wont to have a juvenile assembly, chiefly of girls of
her own age and condition; who came, accompanied by a few governesses,
and they played and sang their little duets and choruses together,
and enjoyed a gentle refection of sponge-cakes, jellies, tea, and the
like.--The Colonel, who was invited to this little party, sent a fine
present to his favourite Ethel; and Clive and his friend J. J. made a
funny series of drawings, representing the life of a young lady as
they imagined it, and drawing her progress from her cradle upwards: now
engaged with her doll, then with her dancing-master; now marching in
her back-board; now crying over her German lessons: and dressed for
her first ball finally, and bestowing her hand upon a dandy, of
preternatural ugliness, who was kneeling at her feet as the happy
man. This picture was the delight of the laughing happy girls; except,
perhaps, the little cousins from Bryanstone Square, who were invited to
Ethel's party, but were so overpowered by the prodigious new dresses in
which their mamma had attired them, that they could admire nothing but
their rustling pink frocks, their enormous sashes, their lovely new silk
stockings.

Lady Kew coming to London attended on the party, and presented her
granddaughter with a sixpenny pincushion. The Colonel had sent Ethel
a beautiful little gold watch and chain. Her aunt had complimented
her with that refreshing work, Alison's History of Europe, richly
bound.--Lady Kew's pincushion made rather a poor figure among the gifts,
whence probably arose her ladyship's ill-humour.

Ethel's grandmother became exceedingly testy when, the Colonel arriving,
Ethel ran up to him and thanked him for the beautiful watch, in return
for which she gave him a kiss, which, I dare say, amply repaid Colonel
Newcome; and shortly after him Mr. Clive arrived, looking uncommonly
handsome, with that smart little beard and mustachio with which nature
had recently gifted him. As he entered, all the girls, who had been
admiring his pictures, began to clap their hands. Mr. Clive Newcome
blushed, and looked none the worse for that in