a promising writer; and was already, to more than a few, personally
known as a very agreeable, gentlemanly fellow, so that in the following
season he had a good many invitations. It was by nothing beyond the
ephemeral that he was known; but may not the man who has invented a good
umbrella one day build a good palace? His acquaintance was considerably
varied, but of the social terraces above the professional, he knew for a
time nothing.

One evening, however, he happened to meet, and was presented to Lady
Tremaine: she had asked to have the refined-looking young man, of whom
she had just heard as one of the principal writers in the "Field
Battery," introduced to her. She was a matronly, handsome woman, with
cordial manners and a cold eye; frank, easy, confident, unassuming.
Under the shield of her position, she would walk straight up to any
subject, and speak her mind of it plainly. It was more than easy to
become acquainted with her when she chose.

The company was not a large one, and they soon found themselves alone in
a quiet corner.

"You are a celebrated literary man, Mr. Colman, they tell me!" said Lady
Tremaine.

"Not in the least," answered Walter. "I am but a poor hack."

"It is well to be modest; but I am not bound to take your description of
yourself. Your class at least is in a fair way to take the lead!"

"In what, pray?"