A FARCE.


Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see
George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three
friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed
with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party
that could be imagined.

Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton--his refined thought and
gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of
humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one
not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more
entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an
intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that,
if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have
found two nicer fellows.

A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which
Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well
informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was
mentioned.

"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really
a very capital thing."

"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre."

"Nor I," said Hardy.