One more group remains. A middle-aged gentleman, and a lady, rich in the beauty of middle life—a throng of children, that would throw Harriet Martineau into hysterics, gambol round them, while a handsome old gentlewoman, whom they term “grandmama,” superintends their movements. If you cannot guess who they are—why go up to the steward’s house upon the hill—and Mr. O’Toole, or his pretty wife, will inform you.