belonging to my lady; and the solicitude exhibited about some humble,
odd-looking box by my lady's maid; the cushions piled in the carriage to
make a soft seat still softer, and to prevent the dreaded possibility of
a jolt; the smelling-bottles, the cordials, the baskets of biscuit and
fruit; the new publications; all provided to guard against hunger,
fatigue, or ennui; the led horses to vary the mode of travelling; and
all this preparation and parade to move, perhaps, some very
good-for-nothing personage about a little space of earth!

I do not mean to apply the latter part of these observations to Lady
Lillycraft, for whose simple kindheartedness I have a very great
respect, and who is really a most amiable and worthy being. I cannot
refrain, however, from mentioning some of the motley retinue she has
brought with her; and which, indeed, bespeak the overflowing kindness of
her nature, which requires her to be surrounded with objects on which to
lavish it.

In the first place, her ladyship has a pampered coachman, with a red
face, and cheeks that hang down like dewlaps. He evidently domineers
over her a little with respect to the fat horses; and only drives out
when he thinks proper, and when he thinks it will be "good for the
cattle."

[Illustration: The Old Coachman]

She has a favourite page to attend upon her person; a handsome boy of
about twelve years of age, but a mischievous varlet, very much spoiled,
and in a fair way to be good for nothing. He is dressed in green, with a
profusion of gold cord and gilt buttons about his clothes. She always
has one or two attendants of the kind, who are replaced by others as