Laura’s respect for these, women had augmented during this conversation, naturally enough; affection and devotion are qualities that are able to adorn and render beautiful a character that is otherwise unattractive, and even repulsive.

Mrs. Gashly—­“I do believe I would a died if I had been in your place, Mrs. Oreille.  The time Hildebrand was so low with the pneumonia Emmeline and me were all, alone with him most of the time and we never took a minute’s sleep for as much as two days, and nights.  It was at Newport and we wouldn’t trust hired nurses.  One afternoon he had a fit, and jumped up and run out on the portico of the hotel with nothing in the world on and the wind a blowing liken ice and we after him scared to death; and when the ladies and gentlemen saw that he had a fit, every lady scattered for her room and not a gentleman lifted his hand to help, the wretches!  Well after that his life hung by a thread for as much as ten days, and the minute he was out of danger Emmeline and me just went to bed sick and worn out.  I never want to pass through such a time again.  Poor dear Francois—­which leg did he break, Mrs. Oreille!”

Mrs. O.—­“It was his right hand hind leg.  Jump down, Francois dear, and show the ladies what a cruel limp you’ve got yet.”

Francois demurred, but being coaxed and delivered gently upon the floor, he performed very satisfactorily, with his “right hand hind leg” in the air.  All were affected—­even Laura—­but hers was an affection of the stomach.  The country-bred girl had not suspected that the little whining ten-ounce black and tan reptile, clad in a red embroidered pigmy blanket and reposing in Mrs. Oreille’s lap all through the visit was the individual whose sufferings had been stirring the dormant generosities of her nature.  She said: 

“Poor little creature!  You might have lost him!”

Mrs. O.—­“O pray don’t mention it, Miss Hawkins—­it gives me such a turn!”

Laura—­“And Hildebrand and Percy—­are they-are they like this one?”

Mrs. G.—­“No, Hilly has considerable Skye blood in him, I believe.”

Mrs. H.—­“Percy’s the same, only he is two months and ten days older and has his ears cropped.  His father, Martin Farquhar Tupper, was sickly, and died young, but he was the sweetest disposition.—­His mother had heart disease but was very gentle and resigned, and a wonderful ratter.” —­[** As impossible and exasperating as this conversation may sound to a person who is not an idiot, it is scarcely in any respect an exaggeration of one which one of us actually listened to in an American drawing room —­otherwise we could not venture to put such a chapter into a book which, professes to deal with social possibilities.—­The authors.]

So carried away had the visitors become by their interest attaching to this discussion of family matters, that their stay had been prolonged to a very improper and unfashionable length; but they suddenly recollected themselves now and took their departure.