Each of the girls stood on tiptoe and rearranged the bows on their bosoms, and Mr.Slope rushed upstairs three steps at a time.
"But who is it, Netta ?" whispered the bishop to his youngest daughter.
"La Signora Madeline Vesey Neroni," whispered back the daughter; "and mind you don't let anyone sit upon the sofa." "La Signora Madeline Vicinironi!" muttered to himself the bewildered prelate.

Had he been told that the Begum of Oude was to be there, or Queen Pomara of the Western Isles, he could not have been more astonished.

La Signora Madeline Vicinironi, who, having no legs to stand on, had bespoken a sofa in his drawing-room! Who could she be?
He however could now make no further inquiry, as Dr.and Mrs.
Stanhope were announced.

They had been sent on out of the way a little before the time, in order that the signora might have plenty of time to get herself conveniently packed into the carriage.
The bishop was all smiles for the prebendary's wife, and the bishop's wife was all smiles for the prebendary.

Mr.Slope was presented and was delighted to make the acquaintance of one of whom he had heard so much.