Gashleigh, with rage in her heart, was counting that two people had
failed, and that there were only seventeen after all.

Mr. Truncheon passed our names to Mr. Billiter, who bawled them out on
the stairs. Rosa was smiling in a pink dress, and looking as fresh as
an angel, and received her company with that grace which has always
characterized her.

The moment of the dinner arrived, old Lady Bungay scuffled off on
the arm of Fitzroy, while the rear was brought up by Rosa and Lord
Castlemouldy, of Ballyshanvanvoght Castle, co, Tipperary. Some fellows
who had the luck took down ladies to dinner. I was not sorry to be out
of the way of Mrs. Rowdy, with her dandified airs, or of that high and
mighty county princess, Mrs. Topham Sawyer.




VII.


Of course it does not become the present writer, who has partaken of the
best entertainment which his friends could supply, to make fun of their
(somewhat ostentatious, as it must be confessed) hospitality. If they
gave a dinner beyond their means, it is no business of mine. I hate a
man who goes and eats a friend's meat, and then blabs the secrets of
the mahogany. Such a man deserves never to be asked to dinner again; and
though at the close of a London season that seems no great loss, and
you sicken of a whitebait as you would of a whale--yet we must always
remember that there's another season coming, and hold our tongues for