and is a great stickler for old-fashioned gallantry, devoted
attentions, and eternal constancy, on the part of the gentlemen. She
lives, however, after her own taste. Her house, I am told, must have
been built and furnished about the time of Sir Charles Grandison:
every thing about it is somewhat formal and stately; but has been
softened down into a degree of voluptuousness, characteristic of an
old lady, very tender-hearted and romantic, and that loves her ease.
The cushions of the great arm-chairs, and wide sofas, almost bury you
when you sit down on them. Flowers of the most rare and delicate kind
are placed about the rooms, and on little japanned stands; and sweet
bags lie about the tables and mantel-pieces. The house is full of pet
dogs, Angora cats, and singing birds, who are as carefully waited upon
as she is herself.

She is dainty in her living, and a little of an epicure, living on
white meats, and little lady-like dishes, though her servants have
substantial old English fare, as their looks bear witness. Indeed,
they are so indulged, that they are all spoiled; and when they lose
their present place, they will be fit for no other. Her ladyship is
one of those easy-tempered beings that are always doomed to be much
liked, but ill served by their domestics, and cheated by all the
world.

Much of her time is passed in reading novels, of which she has a most
extensive library, and has a constant supply from the publishers in
town. Her erudition in this line of literature is immense; she has
kept pace with the press for half a century. Her mind is stuffed with
love-tales of all kinds, from the stately amours of the old books of
chivalry, down to the last blue-covered romance, reeking from the
press; though she evidently gives the preference to those that came