out of his way when he met him might be so called; seldom addressed by Mrs. Mordaunt, whom indeed he rarely saw; not allowed to enter the drawing or dining-rooms, in short, living like a little fairy Pacolet, attached to Calantha and Alice, and the three rooms they occupied.

CHAPTER IV.

"Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height
Clapp'd his glad wings, and sate to view the fight."

Rape of the Lock.

PEOPLE had come and gone during this time. Sons with their wives, and daughters with their husbands and their children, and general company such as meet at dinner-parties in country houses; but Gideon had seen nothing of them, except as far as watching their carriages, and observing their horses, in the proceedings of which he, like other little boys, took the most intense interest.

But it was now more than eighteen months since, owing to various circumstances, any family party had been assembled at Mordaunt Hall, and now there was to be a grand assemblage.

It was the anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Mor

daunt's fortieth wedding-day, and it was to be made a sort of jubilee.

All the married sons and daughters, and all their children, were to be assembled together. And they all were assembled together.

Autumn has fallen into the sere and yellow leaf-that leaf itself is beginning to leave the stem, and to strew the gravel walks with gold and crimson, and the wind sings mournfully among the trees of the plantations, and whistles through the long passages, or may be heard solemnly booming over the distant woods. The heavy clouds roll in gloomy grandeur towards the horizon, dropping their black curtains over the departing sun, who has retired, as they used to say, to his western chambers.

It is a grey, gloomy November night without.

Within the large drawing-room is one blaze of cheerful light. The two large chandeliers are filled with candles, and are glittering and sparkling, bravely reflected by the immense mirrors in

rich old gilded frames of wreathed flowers, which reach from ceiling to floor. An immense wood fire is blazing in the chimney, and sheds a dazzling brightness upon the fender and the large brazen knobs, or dogs, and bright bars which hold in the wood. The snow-white marble chimney-piece is surmounted by another glass with girandoles, and carving and gilding rich and fine. Dark-green velvet are the chairs and curtains, lightened by rich gilding too; and many are the settees and sofas, arm-chairs and elbow, small chairs and chaises-longues, drawn in a large cheerful circle round, and filled with a gailydressed, handsome company, every one of which are relations.

Mr. Mordaunt is getting rather old, he is almost grey, and he stoops, and he has the gout every year; but he still looks handsome, animated, and gentlemanlike to a degree. There he sits in his own peculiar arm-chair, very large, most comfortably stuffed and pillowed it is, of massive build, and seems planted in its place by the fire, for indeed it is too heavy to be easily moved. He has one of those footstools called most irre

verently a "heaven upon earth," before him, upon which his still handsome, though somewhat gouty, leg is resting.

Opposite to him, in a most comfortable bergère, sits Mrs. Mordaunt, in a dress of dove-coloured silk; her shoulders, neck, and bosom, buried in fine laces; the lace of her cap, or head-dress, falling most charmingly upon her matron cheek, still pure and unwrinkled, and her large calm blue eye fixed with benignant serenity upon the group she is watching. By her side sits her eldest son's wife, a fine, handsome woman of calm, genteel manners and deportment, holding a little boy by the hand, to whom she is shewing pictures; over her chair leans her husband, looking now at his youngest son, now at other groups in the room.

Next to Mrs. Bevis Mordaunt sits the eldest married daughter of the house, Mrs. Archer,—she who had been Emma, with the exception of Lucilla reckoned the handsomest of the family. She is still very handsome, holds herself erect, and dresses so as to display her fine face and figure to the greatest advantage. She is now, however, though splendidly dressed, sitting as if