“Lord!” said Ann, “do let her do as she likes.  Adder, don’t be too disagreeable.”

I picked up my bonnet, which she took from me, and put on the top of her head as we went upstairs.

“Murph must bring up your trunk,” said Ann, opening the closet.  “But there is no space to hang anything; the great Mogul’s wardrobe stops the way.”

My chamber was stately in size and appointments.  The afternoon sun shone in, where a shutter was open, behind the dull red curtains, and illuminated the portrait of a nimble old lady in a scarlet cloak, which hung near the gigantic curtained bed, over a vast chair, covered with faded green damask.

“Grandmother Pickersgill,” said Ann, who saw me observing the picture.  Adelaide contemplated it also.  “It was painted by Copley,” she said, “Lord Lyndhurst afterwards.  Grandfather entertained him, and he went to one of grandmother’s parties; he complimented her on her beauty.  But you see that she has not a handsome hand.  Ours is the Pickersgill hand,” and she spread her fingers like a fan.  “She was a regular old screw,” continued Ann, “and used to have mother’s underclothes tucked to last for ever; she was a beast to servants, too.”

My trunk was brought in, which I unlocked and unpacked, while Adelaide opened a drawer in a great bureau.

“Oh, you know it is full of Marm’s fineries,” said Ann, in a confidential tone; “I’ll ring for Hannah.”  Adelaide busied herself in throwing the contents of the drawers on the floor.  “There’s her ball dresses,” commented Ann, as a pink satin, trimmed with magnificent lace, tumbled out.  “Old Carew brought the lace over for her.”

“Bring a basket, Hannah, and take these away somewhere, to some other closet of Mrs. Somers’s.”

“That gold fringe, do you remember, Adder?  She looked like an elephant with his howdah on when she wore it.”

Her impertinence inspired Adelaide, who joined her in a flow of vituperative wit at the expense of their mother and other relatives, incidentally brought in.  Instead of being aghast, I enjoyed it, and was feverish with a desire to be as brilliant, for my vocabulary was deficient and my sense of inferiority was active during the whole of my visit in Belem.  I blushed often, smiled foolishly, and was afflicted with a general apprehension in regard to gaucherie.

I changed my traveling dress, as they were not inclined to leave me, with anxiety, for I was weak enough to wish to make an impression with my elegant bearing and appointments.  Being so anatomized, I was oppressed with an indefinite discouragement.  Their stealthy, sharp, selfish scrutiny brought out my failures.  My dress seemed ill-made; my hair unbecomingly dressed; my best collar and ribbon, which I put on, were nothing to the lace I had just seen falling on the floor.  When we descended it was twilight.  Ann said she must study, and left us by the parlor fire.  Adelaide lighted a candle, and took a novel, which she read