A very old lady, in a lofty cap and faded silk gown⁠—no less a personage than Mr. Wardle’s mother⁠—occupied the post of honour on the right-hand corner of the chimneypiece; and various certificates of her having been brought up in the way she should go when young, and of her not having departed from it when old, ornamented the walls, in the form of samplers of ancient date, worsted landscapes of equal antiquity, and crimson silk teakettle holders of a more modern period. The aunt, the two young ladies, and Mr.