unfinished and incomplete, by denying him the possibility of caring for
anything but himself.

His plan for winning Templeton's esteem and deference was, however,
completely triumphant. He took care that nothing in his /menage/ should
appear "/extravagant/;" all was sober, quiet, and well-regulated. He
declared that he had so managed as to live within his income: and
Templeton receiving no hint for money, nor aware that Ferrers had on the
Continent consumed a considerable portion of his means, believed him.
Ferrers gave a great many dinners, but he did not go on that foolish
plan which has been laid down by persons who pretend to know life, as a
means of popularity--he did not profess to give dinners better than
other people. He knew that, unless you are a very rich or a very great
man, no folly is equal to that of thinking that you soften the hearts of
your friends by soups /a la bisque/, and Johannisberg at a guinea a
bottle. They all go away saying, "What right has that d----d fellow to
give a better dinner than we do? What horrid taste! What ridiculous
presumption."

No; though Ferrers himself was a most scientific epicure, and held the
luxury of the palate at the highest possible price, he dieted his
friends on what he termed "respectable fare." His cook put plenty of
flour into the oyster sauce; cod's head and shoulders made his
invariable fish; and four /entrees/, without flavour or pretence, were
duly supplied by the pastry-cook, and carefully eschewed by the host.
Neither did Mr. Ferrers affect to bring about him gay wits and brilliant
talkers. He confined himself to men of substantial consideration, and
generally took care to be himself the cleverest person present; while he
turned the conversation on serious matters crammed for the
occasion--politics, stocks, commerce, and the criminal code. Pruning