of the tables were so thin, it was a marvel how they supported them; the chairs were high-backed and upright, and as hard as stuffing could make them; the sofas were ditto; while the tables, supported by the spiral legs, were of shapes wholly vanished from the modern upholsterer. There was a card, a sofa, and one oval-shaped table, with a drawer, and leaves that let up and down; all bearing that high polish, which made it the boast of the old-fashioned school that you could make the mahogany serve as a mirror. It would have made half a human existence, the hours of rubbing bestowed by footmen and housemaid on those shining surfaces.
The salmon-coloured walls were covered with divers specimens of feminine ingenuity—samplers, whose subjects it was a puzzle to guess; but the "Fanny," "Mary" and "Elizabeths" worked at the bottom, were distinct enough. I never was more struck with the disrepute into which these laborious trifles had fallen, than by one day finding an old and valued friend unpicking the one, on which the temple of Solomon had been worked in many colours, for a knife-cloth. It was a farewell to the last graceful vanity of youth. Beside these samplers hung divers fruit-pieces worked in worsted and flower pieces worked in floss-silk; also two or three drawings. All these had belonged to Claver House; they had been worked by the young ladies, and many a bright young face did they recall. There was also a round mirror, with
