Lord BLETHERHAM, the other morning, at a chemist's in Piccadilly--he'd
dropped in there for a pick-me-up; and there he was, tellin' chemist
all the troubles he'd had with his other sons marryin' the way they
did, and that. Rum man to go and confide in his chemist, but he's like
that--fond of the vine!

_Mr. C.S._ Er--er--it's becoming a very serious thing, Sir, the way
our aristocracy is deteriorating, is it not?

_Col. S._ Is it? What have they been up to now, eh? Haven't seen a
paper for days.

_Mr. C.S._ I mean these mixed marriages, and, well, their general
goings on, I don't know if you're acquainted with a paper called the
_Penny Patrician_? I take it in regularly, and I assure _you_--loyal
supporter of our old hereditary institutions as I am--some of the
revelations I read about in high life make me blush--yes, downright
_blush_ for them! [_Mrs. HURLINGHAM retires._

_Col. S._ Do they, though? If I were you I should let 'em do their own
blushin', and save my pennies.

_Mr. C.S._ (_deferentially_). No doubt you're right, Sir, but I _like_
the _Patrician_ myself--it's very smartly written. Talking of that,
do you happen to know the ins and outs of that marriage of young Lord
GOSLINGTON's? Something very mysterious about the party he's going to
marry--who _are_ her people now?

_Col. S._ Can't say, I'm sure--no business of mine, you know.