Francis, who were all handsome enough to make you feel as if you
could faint. And there was their mother, the Duchess of Tidyshire;
and of course there were all sorts of maids and footmen and cooks
and scullery maids and even gardeners.

"We never thought of living to see such grand society," said Peter
Piper to his brother and sisters. "It's quite a kind of blessing."

"It's almost like being grand ourselves, just to be able to watch
them," said Meg and Peg and Kilmanskeg, squeezing together and
flattening their noses against the attic windows.

They could see bits of the sumptuous white and gold drawing-room
with the Duchess sitting reading near the fire, her golden glasses
upon her nose, and Lady Gwendolen playing haughtily upon the harp,
and Lady Muriel coldly listening to her. Lady Doris was having her
golden hair dressed by her maid in her bed-room and Lord Hubert was
reading the newspaper with a high-bred air, while Lord Francis was
writing letters to noblemen of his acquaintance, and Lord Rupert
was--in an aristocratic manner--glancing over his love letters from
ladies of title.

[Transcriber's Note: See picture duchess.jpg]

Kilmanskeg and Peter Piper just pinched each other with glee and
squealed with delight.

"Isn't it fun," said Peter Piper. "I say; aren't they awful swells!
But Lord Francis can't kick about in his trousers as I can in mine,
and neither can the others. I'll like to see them try to do this,"--