the Greater had given George the Less an order on his jeweller for a
_tabatière_ with his portrait on the top. On their quarrel this order
was, with very bad taste, rescinded, although Brummell's snuff-box had
already passed into the Prince's hands and had not been returned. It is
said that the Beau employed a friend to remind the king of this
agreement, and ask for his box; to whom the latter said that the story
was all nonsense, and that he supposed 'the poor devil,' meaning his
late intimate friend, wanted £100 and should have it. However, it is
doubtful if the money ever reached the 'poor devil.' The story does not
tell over well, for whatever were the failings and faults of George IV.,
he seems to have had a certain amount of good nature, if not absolutely
of good heart, and possessed, at least, sufficient sense of what became
a prince, to prevent his doing so shabby an act, though he may have
defrauded a hundred tradesmen. In these days there _were_ such things as
'debts of honour,' and they were punctiliously attended to. There are,
as we have said, various versions of this story, but all tend to show
that Brummell courted the notice of his late master and patron on his
way through the place of his exile; and it is not remarkable in a man
who borrowed so freely from all his acquaintances, and who was, in fact,
in such a state of dependence on their liberality.

Brummell made one grand mistake in his career as a Beau: he outlived
himself. For some twenty-four years he survived his flight from England,
to which country he never returned. For a time he was an assiduous
writer of begging-letters and the plague of his friends. At length he
obtained the appointment of consul at the good old Norman town of Caen.
This was almost a sinecure, and the Beau took care to keep it so. But no
one can account for the extraordinary step he took soon after entering
on his consular duties. He wrote to Lord Palmerston, stating that there
were no duties attached to the post, and recommending its abolition.