easy chair with an energetic little plump, 'and tell me how you and your
papa get on. I can remember him quite a cheerful man once, and rather
amusing--yes, indeed--and now you see what a bore he is--all by shutting
himself up and nursing his whims and fancies. Are those your drawings,
dear?'

'Yes, very bad, I'm afraid; but there are a few, _better_, I think in the
portfolio in the cabinet in the hall.'

'They are by _no_ means bad, my dear; and you play, of course?'

'Yes--that is, a little--pretty well, I hope.'

'I dare say. I must hear you by-and-by. And how does your papa amuse you?
You look bewildered, dear. Well, I dare say, amusement is not a frequent
word in this house. But you must not turn into a nun, or worse, into a
puritan. What is he? A Fifth-Monarchy-man, or something--I forget; tell me
the name, my dear.'

'Papa is a Swedenborgian, I believe.'

'Yes, yes--I forgot the horrid name--a Swedenborgian, that is it. I don't
know exactly what they think, but everyone knows they are a sort of pagans,
my dear. He's not making one of _you_, dear--is he?'

'I go to church every Sunday.'

'Well, that's a mercy; Swedenborgian is such an ugly name, and besides,
they are all likely to be damned, my dear, and that's a serious
consideration. I really wish poor Austin had hit on something else; I'd