gether a really pleasing look. Her daughters were dressed in the first style, and though none of them were very young, they looked well, and much more juvenile than the registry of their births in the family bible would have borne out.

"Well," said Mrs. Manford, "I wish this Sir John Scarsbrook would come-here we are waiting dinner at half-past two, and sitting not knowing what to do with ourselves."

"Well mother, never mind," answered one of the daughters, "you know we took care to get something into our insides, at one o'clock; I'm not a bit hungry, and I don't care if the man don't come for an hour."

"Lork, Phœbe," said another of the polished party, "how thee does talk to be sure, why I'm all in a flustration; folks say, Sir John is so impudent!"

"And if he be," said Phoebe, "I know one that can match him, I should like him to try his impudence on wi' me."

They say his coming to the some of their

"Well Phoebe," continued her mother, "you must mind your P's and Q's with him. sister, Lady Lucy, and the Earl are Hall, and may be they'll ask us to grand parties."

"I don't care much about it," said Phoebe, "we've plenty of folks 'bout 'em."

The conversation ran on in this strain for some time, and was only interrupted by the sight of a carriage driving at a rapid rate through the gates. The female Manfords, notwithstanding their assumed lady-like composure, were as the mother said, "all in a twitter!" Their expected guest was of far higher rank than any individual they had as yet associated with, and like all rich vulgar people, their notions of the "quality," as they called them,

made them uneasy, when about to be brought into contact with one of them.

On seeing the carriage, therefore, they were no little flurried, all but the indomitable Phobe, one of those coarse minded women, whom nothing touches nor daunts. She very civilly compared her mother and sisters to so many "hens in egg,” a felicitous comparison we are bound to suppose, because it tickled the fancies of the manufacturing ladies to a wonderful degree, and procured her a compliment from her mother, in this shape, "thou'rt a rare wench, Phoebe." At this moment Sir John was announced, by their awkward footman.

The ladies rose and blushed, and their visitor having shook hands with Mrs. Manford, and bowed individually to the daughters, said—

"I must apologize, my dear Mrs. Manford, for having delayed your dinner, but, the fact is, my sister arrived at Vale Hall just as I was stepping into the carriage, and detained me for a short time. But where is my friend Mr. Manford?"

Luckily, at this moment, our old friend, Johnny Manford was seen approaching from the factory, and in the excess of their good breeding, the three female Manfords rushed one and all from the room, no doubt to notify to John, the presence of Sir John.

When Manford made his appearance, he presented most of the traits we have noticed at an earlier period of his life; his person was indeed stouter, and his outward man improved. His countenance though still the same was yet different;acquired importance, and intercourse with the busy world had softened down some of its most prominent idiotic characteristics, but the expression remained in a great measure unaltered.

There are but few people who behave with any

grace at dinner; whether the act of eating be in itself ungraceful, or whether the artificial restraints imposed on society, by the arbitrary goddess of fashion, make dinner an awkward meal, so most undoubtedly it is. If a man or woman sit down positively hungry, the case is improved, as the instinct of hunger proves an overmatch for factitious delicacy. On the present occasion, the truth of the foregoing axiom was strikingly illustrated, when all the parties, save John and Sir John, had already got "something in their insides."

Talking not being an essential requisite, very little was said, beyond, an occasional remark from the baronet to his host. The young ladies handled their forks clumsily, and the lady-mother drank too much wine. After a while this imbibition, joined to two stout glasses of brandy and water, which she had previously drank to keep up her appetite, made her eloquent in her hospitable attentions, and this too, when her guest was becoming satisfied with his good cheer.

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Try another piece of duck, Sir John-it's one I fed myself and plucked too-the servants tug and tear them so, I always dress 'em myself-let me help you, you see it's as brown as a berry, and

as tender as marrow."

Sir John courteously declined the proffered morsel.

"Taste another slice of lamb, then, Sir John; Jem Ward, the butcher, swore it was a real Downshire one, and put on a halfpenny a pound-I told him, that wasn't I expecting you, I'd have eaten nails, sooner than be done by him."

Again Sir John bowed, and declined.

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Do take a bit more of the stewed tench," continued the indefatigable hostess, "it's a charming fish; I eats them myself since they cleared the pit

of dead cats and dogs, that the factory lads had thrown in."

And so on, through a well-filled table,—Mrs. Manford recommending each dish by some piquant remark of a similar nature to the above, and her guest as punctually declining.

The

The meal, however, like other mundane troubles, had at last an end, and a choice and varied selection of early fruits was placed before them. young ladies were more at ease in cracking nuts, and swallowing grapes, and in whispering their thoughts, as they sat gathered together in a close knot. Mrs. Manford, now in her altitudes, and with a face gloriously illuminated, amused her visitor with a spirited and graphic account of her household appurtenances; such as the number of her servants, the colours of her carpets, and various other highly interesting details. Sir John, who was a well-bred man, and a man of the world, listened very patiently to an amusing edition of Mrs. Malaprop, till John Manford, pulling out his watch, intimated to him, that his time was nearly up, as he called it; and that he must be off' to the mill shortly. The ladies on this hint withdrew, and the gentlemen were left to their wine and their business.

CHAPTER IV.

THE MANUFACTURER AND THE BARONET.

"Sometimes nature will display its folly,
Its tenderness: and inake itself a pastime
For harder bosoms."

Winter's Tale.

It will hardly be supposed that a man of Sir John Scarsbrook's rank and character would be found at the table of the plebeian Manford, either from idle curiosity, or to indulge in friendly association. The following conversation will throw some light upon the position of the parties.

"I have," said the baronet, "as you are aware, occasion for money, and have come to the resolution of disposing of the Shortwood's estate; my agent tells me, you have spoken to him on the subject, as the property is contiguous to your own, and as you are aware, there is abundance of coal and stone under it."

"Why, aye," answered John, "I ha' looked it over, and should never heed buying it; but I'll ne'er give the upshot price of fifteen thousand pounds for it."

"What, Mr. Manford, a man like you, rich enough to buy my whole lordship, stand haggling about the price?-you know its well worth the money to you."

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Why, as to that, I've worked hard for my money, and I sha'nt let it slip through my fingers very easily; I'll not deny that Shortwood's may be worth