other, all in low-gowns, with satin petticoats, short sleeves, pink sashes, and white shoes.

Closely following his sisters, came our friend Tom, his face not improved by sundry black patches, the consequence of his fall; but his neck, about which he seemed much more occupied, shining in the unsullied purity of his best starched cloth. Once before had he seen Lady Matilda, when he called to pay his respects in London: but his introduction was not an auspicious one; for her Ladyship's groom of the chambers, who was a man of discrimination, having introduced him as-"The young man from Hamlet's, my Lady;"-she saluted him with"Haven't you brought your little bill with you?”— To which he replied "Little Jem, you mean, my Lady; my brother Jem."

When they were seated, Mrs. Hobson began :— "Well, I'm sure it's all very pleasant travelling, to see people who can talk French so fast; and then the roads all paved and straight, like streets without houses; whilst there they're making all Lunnon like a turnpike road, with buildings. I'm sure, Mr. Grumbleton told Hobson, he did'nt know his counting-house in Bishopsgate from his country-house at Hackney, now they were both equally muddy and dusty. I'm sure you must like foreign parts, Lady Matilda."

"I am not,” replied Matilda, "particularly fond of roads which follow the crow in his flight; nor has

the chaise-window shown me much to admire in passing through France: but I have been very much pleased with all I have seen to-day-without compliment," she added, smiling, and rather amused at the unintentional flattery which her speech might be supposed to convey. "Well, I admire all I have seen of foreign parts," retorted Mrs. Hobson.— "Yes," grumbled old Hobson, "and the more you admire them, the more they laugh at you; you'd better have staid at home; it's all very well for my Lady there, who can show herself against any thing they can show her."

All the Hobson family were in mute astonishment at the phenomenon of any thing so like a civil speech coming out of the mouth of its head; though, perhaps, after all, it was only said to give additional bitterness to his attack upon his wife. She, however, seemed quite invulnerable, as she continued-" Well, never trouble your head about all that, but send me some more soup, my dear."-"Here," addressing the fille who was waiting-" What is the girl staring at?-Ici-what d'ye call her?-Garçon, prenez mon plat." The charge of staring was certainly well founded against la fille, for she could not take her eyes off the profuse display of white necks and red elbows, on the part of the Miss Hobsons, of which she had never before seen the like; and, with that nice observation of manners and appearance with which French women of every rank are always en

dued, she was puzzled beyond measure, to account for the three "horreurs" being seated at the same table with a person like Lady Matilda, whom one glance told her to be "mise à merveille." That the mere accident of travelling at the same time should have produced this union among English people, all her former experience told her was very unlikely, as she had often known, when two solitary Englishmen had arrived separately, that the last comer would wait, starving for want of his supper, in his bedroom, till the other had left the saloon, rather than sit down in the room with a man he did not know.

The soubrette's speculations were, however, interrupted, by Sir James sending her to his courier for his English comforts, in a canteen as big as the trunk in which Iachimo hides himself. Cocoa paste, essence of coffee, &c. were not very serviceable at dinner, but some Harvey's sauce was hailed with great glee; though, as there was no fish, there arose some difficulty whether to apply it to fricandeau, fricass, pâté melée, or poulet rôti.

The sight of all these English comforts, however, gave a new turn to Mrs. Hobson's feelings about the comparative merits of the two countries. Her opinions were always as lightly formed as they were loosely expressed; and so that she was but allowed to talk, she could be, alternately, equally voluble on both sides of any question.

"Well, after all, there is nothing like Old Eng

land-where things are good, if they're dear; and there is great cheating in all their cheapness here. What d'ye think? t'other night when we were at that town (what's it's name?) where they all fought for ten years about one naughty lady (more shame for them!)" "Do you mean Troyes?" said Lady Matilda, smiling: "Yes, Troy-aye-when we were at Troy, I saw how cheap Champaigne was-so thinks I, one may have Port for next to nothing-so I sent for some to make some bishop for my good man there -who is as fond of it as mother's milk-ayc, for all you look so, you are;-well, would you believe it? they charged more than ever I payed for claret at the Bridgewater Arms, when I wanted a bottle or two on some great occasion; now you see there was no reason in that at all. To be sure, such things as they call wine here! they gave us a bottle the other night, they told us was wine, though their own name for it was Saint Cider, I believe." "Saint Péray, mamma," said Miss Hobson: "Ah-wellperry or cider, it's all one, and not so good as Herefordshire-neither."

As Mrs. Hobson was one of those persons who talk for talking sake, and precisely because they have nothing to say—and as there is no reason whatever, in the nature of that kind of talk, why it should ever end spontaneously-perhaps I had better put a forced stop to it at once, if it be only for the purpose of impressing my readers with a due sense of my modera

tion, in letting them off so easily, when I evidently have them at my mercy. Sparing them, therefore, for the present, any further échantillons of "Hobson's choice," I will only add, that our heroine retired early to her room, more than ever convinced, that no bodily exertions can be half so overpowering as those social efforts which labour to support the forced intercourse of uncongenial companions.

CHAPTER IX.

THE next morning, Pierre announced that all the skill of the marischal had only succeeded in rendering the dicky perfectly unserviceable, and that it was now impossible that it could be mended short of Geneva. In this dilemma, the Dorntons could do no less than offer to take Miss Hobson with them, and let Tom share the Britchker with Ma'mselle Felicie. This arrangement, which gave general satisfaction to all the Hobson party, was proposed, by Lady Matilda, with that unaffected facility with which she always promoted any thing really good-natured, without considering its effect upon her own immediate comforts.

Tom was delighted at first with his new compa