book-seller, telling him they were to be a part of the fashionable
something or other, and he offered me, I will not say how much, to
finish it in three volumes, and let him pay all the newspapers for
recommending it as the work of a lady of quality, who had made very
free with the characters of her acquaintance.

CAPTAIN FITZCHROME. Surely you have not done so?

LADY CLARINDA. Oh, no! I leave that to Mr. Eavesdrop. But Mr.
Puffall made it a condition that I should let him say so.

CAPTAIN FITZCHROME. A strange recommendation.

LADY CLARINDA. Oh, nothing else will do. And it seems you may
give yourself any character you like, and the newspapers will print
it as if it came from themselves. I have commended you to three of
our friends here as an economist, a transcendentalist, and a
classical scholar; and if you wish to be renowned through the world
for these, or any other accomplishments, the newspapers will
confirm you in their possession for half-a-guinea a piece.

CAPTAIN FITZCHROME. Truly, the praise of such gentry must be a
feather in any one's cap.

LADY CLARINDA. So you will see, some morning, that my novel is
"the most popular production of the day." This is Mr. Puffall's
favourite phrase. He makes the newspapers say it of everything he
publishes. But "the day," you know, is a very convenient phrase;
it allows of three hundred and sixty-five "most popular
productions" in a year. And in leap-year one more.