good-night to Mrs. Linley's pretty little daughter, they would
have seen the stone walls of Kitty's bed-chamber snugly covered
with velvet hangings which kept out the cold; they would have
trod on a doubly-laid carpet, which set the chilly influences of
the pavement beneath it at defiance; they would have looked at a
bright little bed, of the last new pattern, worthy of a child's
delicious sleep; and they would only have discovered that the
room was three hundred years old when they had drawn aside the
window curtains, and had revealed the adamantine solidity of the
outer walls. Or, if they had been allowed to pursue their
investigations a little further, and had found their way next
into Mrs. Linley's sitting room, here again a transformation
scene would have revealed more modern luxury, presented in the
perfection which implies restraint within the limits of good
taste. But on this occasion, instead of seeing the head of a
lively little child on the pillow, side by side with the head of
her doll, they would have encountered an elderly lady of
considerable size, fast asleep and snoring in a vast armchair,
with a book on her lap. The married men among the tourists would
have recognized a mother-in-law, and would have set an excellent
example to the rest; that is to say, the example of leaving the
room.

The lady composed under the soporific influence of literature was
a person of importance in the house--holding rank as Mrs.
Linley's mother; and being otherwise noticeable for having
married two husbands, and survived them both.

The first of these gentlemen--the Right Honorable Joseph
Norman--had been a member of Parliament, and had taken office