names. We will forthwith send them an invitation to tea this very
evening, and they shall be their own etymologists.'

At the appointed hour, three ladies were ushered into the
drawing-room, bearing so startling a resemblance to each other in
person, manner, and costume, that we at once decided they must be
_trins_. Not so, however; there was a year or two's difference in age
between them, which rendered the strong resemblance more remarkable.
They were tall, well-formed, plump ladies, of middle or uncertain age;
with round, unmeaning faces, flaxen locks, and pale-blue eyes. There
was not a perceptible thread or pucker different in their three
dresses, which must have fitted all indiscriminately; the flaxen curls
were arranged in precisely the same waves round each mealy
countenance; and the neat caps, with bright-green ribbons, doubtless
had the same exact quantity of tulle and gauze in their fashioning.
Each sister owned a delicate work-basket--trinal baskets also; and in
each receptacle reposed a similar square of worsted-work, the same to
the last stitch. We heard the visitors named as Miss Bonderlay, Miss
Paulina Bonderlay, and Miss Constantia Bonderlay; but that was of no
use, since they were not ticketed, and our blunders became
embarrassing and ludicrous. We addressed Miss Bonderlay as Miss
Paulina, when the senior lady drew up with dignified composure, and
pointing to a sister, said: '_I_ am Miss Bonderlay: _that_ lady is
Miss Paulina Bonderlay.' And so on with the other two, who explained
that they were juniors, as they waved a lily hand towards their eldest
sister, indicative of her supremacy. But as the evening advanced, we
learned to distinguish them by a peculiarity of expression, which had
gained for these amiable maidens the somewhat singular cognomens of
Really! Indeed! and Impossible! for their conversation, if
conversation it could be called, consisted almost wholly of these