"Aha! my dear Mr. -------!" said the earl, holding out both his hands to
the Lycurgus of the rooms; "how are you? Pray can you inform me who that
young man is, now dancing with Miss Brandon?"

"It is--let me see-oh! it is a Captain Clifford, my lord! a very fine
young man, my lord! Has your lordship never met him?"

"Never! Who is he? One under your more especial patronage?" said the
earl, smiling.

"Nay, indeed!" answered the master of the ceremonies, with a simper of
gratification; "I scarcely know who he is yet; the captain only made his
appearance here to-night for the first time. He came with two other
gentlemen,--ah! there they are!" and he pointed the earl's scrutinizing
attention to the elegant forms of Mr. Augustus Tomlinson and Mr. Ned
Pepper, just emerging from the card-rooms. The swagger of the latter
gentleman was so peculiarly important that Mauleverer, angry as he was,
could scarcely help laughing. The master of the ceremonies noted the
earl's countenance, and remarked that "that fine-looking man seemed
disposed to give himself airs."

"Judging from the gentleman's appearance," said the earl, dryly (Ned's
face, to say truth, did betoken his affection for the bottle), "I should
imagine that he was much more accustomed to give himself thorough
draughts!"

"Ah!" renewed the arbiter elegantiarum, who had not heard Mauleverer's
observation, which was uttered in a very low voice,--"ah! they seem real
dashers!"