我是一个老婆子了，东西都是非常不同，他们在我年少的模样。然后我们，谁走，乘坐旅游巴士，携带6里面，使一两天的路程出人们现在去了几个小时了一个高手和一个闪光灯，以及尖叫声口哨，足以使耳聋之一。接着信件进来，但每周3次：的确，在苏格兰的一些地方，我住的时候我是一个女孩的地方，但后来在每月一次; - 信，但信是当时的，我们取得了伟大的奖品他们，他们阅读和研究他们喜欢的书籍。现在来恫吓后在一天两次，使短期肉干注意到，一些没有开始或结束，而只是一个小尖句，其中有教养的人们会觉得太突然要发言。好，好！他们都可能被改进， - 我敢说他们，但你绝不会与夫人勒德罗满足这些天。
    我会尝试，告诉她你。这不是故事：有，正如我所说，无论开头，中间，也结束。
    我父亲是一个穷牧师的一个大家族。我母亲总是说有良好的血液在血管里流动，而当她想保持她与她被抛出中，人 - 主要是富人的民主制造商，都为自由和法国大革命的立场， - 她将穿上一对的褶边，与真正的老英语点修剪，很该死可以肯定， - 但不能买了新的爱情或金钱，因为它使艺术失去了几年前。这些褶边表明，她说，她的祖先曾大人物，当有钱人，现在谁看的祖父在她下来，已小人物， - 事实上，如果他们有过任何的祖父。我不知道任何一个我们自己的家庭是否注意到了这些溽暑， - 但我们都为孩子们感到很自豪，当我的母亲穿上，并举行了我们的领袖们，成为该教的后裔谁拥有了第一夫人的花边。但不是我亲爱的父亲经常告诉我们，骄傲是一个伟大的罪恶，我们是绝不容许任何东西感到骄傲，但我母亲的溽暑：她是那么天真快乐当她穿上， - 通常，可怜的家伙，一个非常破旧和破旧的长衫， - 我仍然认为，即使在我所有的生活经验，他们是一对家庭的祝福。你会认为我从我的夫人勒德罗游荡了。根本没有。谁曾拥有的花边，乌苏拉汉伯里夫人，
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    I am an old woman now, and things are very different to what they were in my youth. Then we, who travelled, travelled in coaches, carrying six inside, and making a two days' journey out of what people now go over in a couple of hours with a whizz and a flash, and a screaming whistle, enough to deafen one. Then letters came in but three times a week: indeed, in some places in Scotland where I have stayed when I was a girl, the post came in but once a month;--but letters were letters then; and we made great prizes of them, and read them and studied them like books. Now the post comes rattling in twice a day, bringing short jerky notes, some without beginning or end, but just a little sharp sentence, which well-bred folks would think too abrupt to be spoken. Well, well! they may all be improvements,--I dare say they are; but you will never meet with a Lady Ludlow in these days.
    I will try and tell you about her. It is no story: it has, as I said, neither beginning, middle, nor end.
    My father was a poor clergyman with a large family. My mother was always said to have good blood in her veins; and when she wanted to maintain her position with the people she was thrown among,-- principally rich democratic manufacturers, all for liberty and the French Revolution,--she would put on a pair of ruffles, trimmed with real old English point, very much darned to be sure,--but which could not be bought new for love or money, as the art of making it was lost years before. These ruffles showed, as she said, that her ancestors had been Somebodies, when the grandfathers of the rich folk, who now looked down upon her, had been Nobodies,--if, indeed, they had any grandfathers at all. I don't know whether any one out of our own family ever noticed these ruffles,--but we were all taught as children to feel rather proud when my mother put them on, and to hold up our heads as became the descendants of the lady who had first possessed the lace. Not but what my dear father often told us that pride was a great sin; we were never allowed to be proud of anything but my mother's ruffles: and she was so innocently happy when she put them on,--often, poor dear creature, to a very worn and threadbare gown,--that I still think, even after all my experience of life, they were a blessing to the family. You will think that I am wandering away from my Lady Ludlow. Not at all. The Lady who had owned the lace, Ursula Hanbury,