ther world to the inhabitants of St. James's Square. Grunter imitated Dr. Johnson in drinking countless cups of tea. Ellen's arm ached with pouring it out of a very heavy and unmanageable teapot; and Annie was half dead with cutting his bread and butter with a knife blunt as himself. But mirth and good humour prevailed. Ellen was like a perpetual sunbeam; - there could be no gloom where Ellen smiled. At length the protracted repast was over, and the pilgrims repaired, with many misgivings, to their respective beds. CHAPTER LX. O, how much more doth Beauty beauteous seem, Shakespeare's Sonnets. None of the party could boast of a particularly good night, but all of course forbore to allude to the cause of disturbance each had secretly to complain of. Grunter, alone, who appeared bearing dreadful marks of recent encounters with nameless foes, his eyes nearly closed by the swelling of the lids — Grunter, alone, ventured to declare that, during their stay in town, he must find himself another abode. To this no one particularly objected, and, as he was not inclined to incur any ex pense, he resolved to ask his friend, Fitzcribb, to receive him for a day or two. None much liked the neighbourhood Mr. Lindsay had chosen, but all but Grunter had too much tact and delicacy to make any positive complaint. Yet, when after long sleeplessness, caused partly by noises from without, partly by horrors from within, the dawn saw slumber weigh the weary lids of the pilgrims, all were roused by the sudden uproar and excitement of the arrival of the whole vegetable and many of the animal world in Covent Garden Market. Peace and sleep were then no more; and, after many vain efforts, all rose and proceeded to the breakfast-room. Miss Tibby was silent and mysterious about the night she had passed, and only observed "London is vastly inferior to Edinbro,' kinsmon, in the comfort of its hotels. My rest has nae been a'thegither what I could wish; for a' that, I mak nae complaint, it is na my custom, and was na in my younger days. I've met wi' some disturbances which shall be nameless." Annie was sleepy and silent; the Reverend Gregory but half awake; Mr. Lindsay, all urbane, inquiring about every one; and Ellen alone entirely taken up with him, his health, his rest, quite careless of her own accommodation, resolute in shaking off all indications of her wretched and sleepless night, cheerfully pointing out all that could interest in the varied groups to be seen from the windows, praising the luxuriant cart-loads of fruit, vegetables, and flowers, and trying to conceal the fact that, instead of the fragrant odours that might have been expected, a very strong and odious smell of cabbage-leaves and old stalks found its way into the room, the bad, being, as in all things, so much the stronger and more intrusive of the two powers struggling for admission. Mr. Lindsay watched with tender interest Ellen's cheerful and endearing endurance of all these minor trials: they are, after all, the real tests of a generous, a patient, and selfsacrificing nature. We can all rouse ourselves for great disasters: there is a self-applause, which sustains us in an heroic combat with a grand misfortune; but the hero who rushes to battle, who leads a forlorn hope, or braves a death-wound, fearless and collected the while, may be roused to wrath and irritation by the repeated attacks of that light infantry of the air, a swarm of gnats. A monotonous streetorgan, or a ceaseless bagpipe, may drive him half frantic, or the intrusion of a villanous odour upset his equanimity. Breakfast over, Grunter set out to visit the Fitzcribbs, taking the Reverend Gregory with him, as the latter wished to be directed to some cheap book-stalls. Mr. Lindsay remained within, expecting his son, and beguiling the time with a newspaper; and Annie, Miss Tibby, and Ellen retired to their rooms to prepare for a walk, |