We were in number and in character, as follows:
First—to get my sister and myself out of the way—there were we two. In the drawing of lots, my sister drew her own room, and I drew Master B.'s. Next there was our first cousin John Herschel, so called after the great astronomer, than whom I suppose a better man at a telescope does not breathe. With him was his wife, a charming creature to whom he had been married in the previous spring. I thought it (under the circumstances) rather imprudent to bring her, because there is no knowing what even a false alarm may do at such a time; but I suppose he knew his own business best, and I must say that if she had been my wife, I could never have left her endearing and bright face behind. They drew the clock room. Alfred Starling, an uncommonly agreeable young fellow, of eight and twenty, for whom I have the greatest liking, was in the double room; mine, usually, and designated by that name from having a dressing-room within it, with two large and cumbersome windows which no wedges I was ever able to make, would keep from shaking, in any weather, wind or no wind. Alfred is a young fellow who pretends to be "fast" (another word for loose, as I understand the term), but who is much too good and sensible for that nonsense, and who would have distinguished himself before now, if his father had not unfortunately left him a small independence of two hundred a year, on the strength of which his only occupation in life has been to spend six. I am in hope's, however, that his banker may break, or that he may enter into some speculation guaranteed to pay twenty per cent.; for I am convinced that if he could only be ruined, his fortune is made. Belinda Hates, bosom friend of my sister, and a most intellectual, amiable, and delightful girl, got the picture room. She has a fine genius for poetry, combined with real business earnestness, and "goes in"—to use an expression of Alfred's—for Woman's Mission, Woman's Rights, Womans's Wrongs, and every thing that is woman's with a capital W, or is not and ought to be, or is and ought not to be. "Most praiseworthy, my dear, and heaven prosper you!" I whispered to her on the first night of my taking leave of her at the picture-room door, "but don't overdo it. And in respect of the great necessity there is, my darling, for more employments being
