First Critical Visitor (examining a View of St. James’s Park).  I wonder where that was taken.  In Scotland, I expect—­there’s two Highlanders there, you see.

Second C.V. Shouldn’t wonder—­lot o’ work in that, all those different colours, and so many dresses. [Admires, thoughtfully.

A Well-read Woman.  That’s Queen CHARLOTTE, that is.  GEORGE THE THIRD’s wife, you know—­her that was so domestic.

Her Companion.  Wasn’t that the one that was shut up in the Tower, or something?

The W.W. In the Tower?  Lor, my dear, no, I never ’eard of it.  You’re thinking of the TUDORS, or some o’ that lot, I expect!

Her Comp. Am I?  I daresay.  I never could remember ’Istry.  Why, if you’ll believe me, I always have to stop and think which of the GEORGES came first!

More Critical Visitors (before Portraits).  He’s rather pleasant-looking, don’t you think?  I don’t like her face at all.  So peculiar.  And what a hideous dress—­like a tea-gown without any upper part—­frightful!

A Sceptical V. They all seem to have had such thin lips in those days.  Somehow, I can’t bring myself to believe in such very thin lips—­can you, dear?

Her Friend.  I always think it’s a sign of meanness, myself.

The S.V. No; but I mean—­I can’t believe everyone had them in the eighteenth century.

Her Friend.  Oh, I don’t know.  If it was the fashion!

ABOUT THE CASES.

Visitor (admiring an embroidered waistcoat of the time of GEORGE THE SECOND—­a highly popular exhibit).  What lovely work!  Why, it looks as if it was done yesterday!

Her Companion (who is not in the habit of allowing his enthusiasm to run away with him).  Um—­yes, it’s not bad.  But, of course, they wouldn’t send a thing like that here without having it washed and done up first!

An Old Lady.  “Tea-pot used by the Duke of WELLINGTON during his campaigns.”  So he drank tea, did he?  Dear me!  Do you know, my dear, I think I must have my old tea-pot engraved.  It will make it so much more interesting some day!

IN THE SOUTH GALLERY.

Mr. Prattler (before a Portrait of Lady HAMILTON, by ROMNEY).  There!  Isn’t she too charming?  I do call her a perfect duck.’

Miss Ammerson.  Yes, you mustn’t forget her when you bring those biscuits.

An Amurrcan Girl.  Father, see up there; there’s BYRON.  Did you erver see such a purrfectly beautiful face?

Her Father (solemnly).  He was a beautiful Man—­a beautiful Poet.

The A.G. I know—­but the expression, it’s real saint-like!

Father (slowly).  Well, I guess if he’d had any different kind of expression, he wouldn’t have written the things he did write, and that’s a fact!