just then, it might truly have been
said,--

Though prince and peer and poet rare
Were sunk among the piles,
The noblest man who perished there
Was faithful W. N----s.

The sight-seeing fever raged fiercely at first, and the flock of
Americans went from Windsor Castle to the Tower of London, from
Westminster Abbey to Madame Taussaud's Waxwork Show, with a vigour that
appalled the natives. They would visit two or three galleries in the
morning, lunch at Dolly's (the dark little chop-house which Johnson,
Goldsmith, and the other worthies used to frequent in the good old
times), go to Richmond in the afternoon and dine at the 'Star and
Garter,' or to Greenwich and eat 'white baits fish,' as the Russian
called that celebrated dish, and finish off the evening at some theatre,
getting home at midnight, in a procession of two cabs and a hansom.

When the first excitement was over, Lavinia and Matilda took a turn at
society, having friends in London. Amanda could not conquer her
prejudices sufficiently to accompany them, and, falling back on the
climate as her excuse, stayed at home and improved her mind.

'I feel now like girls in novels. You are the Duchess of Devonshire and
I am Lady Maud Plantagenet, going to a ball at Buckingham Palace. I know
that I was made to sit in the lap of luxury: it agrees with me so well,'
said Matilda, as the two rolled away to Aubrey House in a brougham, all
lamps, glass, and satin. Her long blue train lay piled up before her,
the light flashed on her best Roman ear-rings, her curls were in their
most picturesque array, and--crowning joy of all--cream-coloured gloves,
with six buttons, covered her arms, and filled her soul with happiness,
because they were so elegant and cost so little, being bought in Rome
just after the flood.

Dowager Livy responded gravely from the depths of her silver-grey silk,
enlivened with pink azaleas,--

'My child, thank your stars that you are a free-born Yankee, and have no
great name or state to keep up. Buckingham Palace is all very well, and
I shouldn't mind calling on Mrs. Guelph, or Saxe Coburg, whichever it
is, but I much prefer to be going to the house of a Radical M.P., who is
lending a hand to all good works. Mrs. T. is a far more interesting
woman to me than Victoria, for her life is spent in helping her
fellow-creatures. I consider her a model Englishwoman--simple, sincere,
and accomplished; full of good sense, intelli