did!" cries Binnie, with glances
of rapture towards the two pretty faces. Everybody liked them. Binnie
received their caresses very good-humouredly. The Colonel liked every
woman under the sun. Clive laughed and joked and waltzed alternately
with Rosey and her mamma. The latter was the briskest partner of the
two. The unsuspicious widow, poor dear innocent, would leave her girl at
the painting-room, and go shopping herself; but little J. J. also worked
there, being occupied with his second picture: and he was almost the
only one of Clive's friends whom the widow did not like. She pronounced
the quiet little painter a pert, little, obtrusive, underbred creature.

In a word, Mrs. Mackenzie was, as the phrase is, "setting her cap" so
openly at Clive, that none of us could avoid seeing her play: and Clive
laughed at her simple manoeuvres as merrily as the rest. She was a merry
little woman. We gave her and her pretty daughter a luncheon in Lamb
Court, Temple; in Sibwright's chambers--luncheon from Dick's Coffee
House--ices and dessert from Partington's in the Strand. Miss Rosey,
Mr. Sibwright, our neighbour in Lamb Court, and the Reverend Charles
Honeyman sang very delightfully after lunch; there was quite a crowd
of porters, laundresses, and boys to listen in the court; Mr. Paley
was disgusted with the noise we made--in fact, the party was perfectly
successful. We all liked the widow, and if she did set her pretty
ribbons at Clive, why should not she? We all liked the pretty, fresh,
modest Rosey. Why, even the grave old benchers in the Temple church,
when the ladies visited it on Sunday, winked their reverend eyes
with pleasure, as they looked at those two uncommonly smart, pretty,
well-dressed, fashionable women. Ladies, go to the Temple church. You
will see more young men, and receive more respectful attention there
than in any place, except perhaps at Oxford or Cambridge. Go to the
Temple church--not, of course, for the admiration which you will excite
and which you cannot help; but because the sermon is excellent, the
choral services beautifully performed, and the church so interesting as
a monument of the thirteenth century, and as it contains the tombs of
those dear Knights Templars!

Mrs. Mackenzie could be grave or gay, according to her company: nor
could any woman be of more edifying behaviour when an occasional
Scottish friend bringing a letter from darling Josey, or a
recommendatory letter from Josey's grandmo