the Turkish tent, the Alhambra, the pagoda, formed a proud moment
to Lady Clonbrony. Much did she enjoy, and much too naturally,
notwithstanding all her efforts to be stiff and stately, much too
naturally did she show her enjoyment of the surprise excited in some and
affected by others on their first entrance.

One young, very young lady expressed her astonishment so audibly as to
attract the notice of all the bystanders. Lady Clonbrony, delighted,
seized both her hands, shook them, and laughed heartily; then, as the
young lady with her party passed on, her ladyship recovered herself,
drew up her head, and said to the company near her--

'Poor thing! I hope I covered her little NAIVETE properly? How NEW she
must be!'

Then, with well-practised dignity, and half-subdued self-complacency
of aspect, her ladyship went gliding about--most importantly busy,
introducing my lady THIS to the sphynx candelabra, and my lady THAT to
the Trebisond trellice; placing some delightfully for the perspective of
the Alhambra; establishing others quite to her satisfaction on seraglio
ottomans; and honouring others with a seat under the statira, canopy.
Receiving and answering compliments from successive crowds of select
friends, imagining herself the mirror of fashion, and the admiration of
the whole world, Lady Clonbrony was, for her hour, as happy certainly as
ever woman was in similar circumstances.

Her son looked at her, and wished that this happiness could last.
Naturally inclined to sympathy, Lord Colambre reproached himself for not
feeling as gay at this instant as the occasion required. But the festive
scene, the blazing lights, the 'universal hubbub,' failed to raise his