ble or clever, pray why do you court his acquaintance? Of what earthly use is he to you, to me, or to anybody?"

"Well, indeed, Reuben, when you put it in that light, I do not know what to say: I ask him because everybody else does; I neither love him nor respect him. I'm sure—in short he is a very tiresome old man, and I shall never be at home to him again."

"He will be no loss," said Reuben.

"But then what is one to do?" continued Mrs. Mountjoy; "how is one to choose one's society?"

"On two principles, aunt-nobody is worth knowing except for his talents or his virtues—his moral grandeur or his intellectual celebrity."

"My dear boy," said the fair widow, "would you have me turn everybody out of my house but yourself and Mr. Primrose ?"

Reuben smiled, thanked his aunt for so handsome a compliment, and said he feared his rule would indeed proscribe a great many persons of her acquaintance.

"I am sure," she said, "Sir Finch Goldfinch has neither virtue nor talent."

"He has got a box at the opera which he never lends you, and he gives a ponderous dinner now and then that bores you to death; in return for which favours you load him with all kinds of hospitable attentions, merely because he is Sir Finch Goldfinch."

"I must plead guilty, my dear; but I'll send him packing with Mr. Leadenhall."

"Do now, like a dear good sensible aunt, and cashier Sir Allan De Bray and Lord Greenwich at the same time; the latter is a mere lord, and the other a mere baronet."

"And only a baronet of Nova Scotia, my dear."

"Which makes the case against him perfectly irresistible," said Reuben, smiling; "and now don't you think, my dear aunt, we might throw a few ladies overboard with advantage?"

"Let them all go, if you please, my love," said Mrs. Mountjoy, "I don't give balls, only dinners; so a circle of men is what I want; you and Mr. Primrose, must go elsewhere for beauties and fortunes."

So it was arranged. Mrs. Mountjoy, in fact, gave Reuben a carte blanche to fill her rooms with men of intellectual renown

and moral grandeur; but as such fruit grows not on every tree, he was forced to put up for some time with company not quite so

distinguished. The first set consisted of Mr. Araby, a handsome young clergyman, the author of "Melancthon" in twenty books; Mr. Bavard, a talkative and parasitical doctor, who held the distinguished office of family physician in the household of the Earl of Powderham;-these were the nominees of Mr. Primrose. De Tabley brought his uncle, a veteran dandy and old clubbist, who represented at that time the borough of Breeches-Pocket. Winning contributed a couple of loquacious barristers, and there was a certain Captain Shunfield, of the Guards, who got in by some means or other, nobody well knew how.

When Reuben reviewed his troops, he felt almost as much ashamed of them as Falstaff was of his regiment, and could not but feel that he had turned out the Leadenhalls and Goldfinches without getting much better men in their place. The dinner days were Wednesdays and Saturdays. On Sundays Mrs. Mountjoy, Reuben, Primrose, and Winning excluded all the rest of the world. The remaining days were open, and for these Mrs. Mountjoy felt herself quite at liberty to accept agreeable invitations when she received them. Reuben used often, in his latter days, to relate the little incidents of his aunt's first entertainment in Burlington Gardens. One of these was the following:-Mrs. Mountjoy received a note from Winning in the morning, requesting permission to bring his friend, little Master Turner, with him to dinner. Reuben and Primrose were astonished and indignant at a request so monstrously unreasonable; Mrs. Mountjoy was very unhappy; but at length her good-nature and regard for Winning prevailed over other considerations, and she returned a civil answer, saying, that she would be happy to receive Mr. Winning and his young friend. When the dinner-hour came, old De Tabley was one of the earliest arrivals, and Mrs. Mountjoy commissioned his nephew to prepare him for what was to happen. The old gentleman, not over fond of children at any time, was scarcely able to conceal his annoyance, and fidgeted about the room until Mrs. Mountjoy almost feared he would leave the house. Reuben looked on like a philosopher, not a little annoyed by all the fuss that he saw made about the seemingly trivial occurrence of a little boy accidentally brought to a dinner-party. When Mr. Winning and Master Turner were announced, a comic painter could not have had a better subject than the company presented, particularly the figure of old Tabley, who stood in the centre of the room, perfectly rigid, his features puckered up with the acrimony of his feelings, and his eye-glass intently fixed upon the door.

The object of all this alarm proved the next moment to be a little master, indeed, but only a Master in Chancery.

"A pleasant opening," said Primrose aside to the widow, "of your London campaign." But the pleasantry all evaporated in that one trivial occurrence, and notwithstanding all the preparation for an agreeable dinner, it turned out one of the dullest that ever was given. For a long time nobody could talk for Mr. Bavard, which provoked no one so much as Mrs. Mountjoy, who was anxious that her nephhew should come forward, and had no notion of giving dinners for Mr. Bavard to shine at. Reuben would probably have spoiled the dinner himself, if it had not been done for him by the parasitical and prating doctor, who, by virtue of his longer experience, possessed the assurance and pertinacity which our "coming man " had yet to acquire.

At length, having exhausted all other topics, Doctor Bavard began to hold forth upon the art of conversation itself (in which he was such an adept), and said, among other things, that it was like Nature, and abhorred a vacuum, upon which Winning quickly and pointedly added that "it more resembled Commerce, for it abhorred monopoly."

"And Law," said Master Turner, following up the blow, “for it is averse to perpetuities."

"Attica and Laconia in close alliance," said Reuben, with some pomposity, "but war to the knife with Thebes."

And having thus got what the French call the "parole," he kept possession of it with a tenacity of purpose worthy of a better cause; beginning with Plutarch's Apothegms, and ending with the Facetia of Hierocles, not one of which would he probably have left untold, if he had not been suddenly cut short by a hint to pass the bottle, which had been standing stock still while his tongue had been running so volubly. The pause delighted everybody save Mrs. Mountjoy, whose admiration for Reuben was such that she could have heard him talk for ever with satisfaction.

"However, I agree with Mr. Bavard, that conversation is a mere art," said Captain Shunfield, filling his glass: "I have met with works on the subject."

"Have you found them practically useful?" said Primrose cruelly.

แ "Well," said the Captain, "I think I picked up some good hints."

"I'll tell you what the art of agreeable conversation consists in," continued Hyacinth, getting the start of Bavard, who was

preparing to begin again; "it consists in being agreeable to to present at the expense of the absent."

"A good definition of tea-table talk," said Reuben.

"Apropos to that," said Bavard, but got no further.

"Does not a great deal depend upon the accompaniments, as in music?" said George De Tabley: "the accompaniment of a good dinner, for instance."

"Depend upon it there is," said Primrose. "Just for a moment imagine the dishes and wines before us swept away by magic, and the Barmecide's feast in its place, or Timon's last dinner to his summer friends."

“I remember an anecdote,” said Bavard,

"I should not undertake to be witty under such circumstances," said old De Tabley.

"Nor I, positively," said the guardsman.

"Apropos," said Mr. Bavard, but was again cut short, for Reuben began to recollect his astrology, and observed that to make society perfect, Mercury ought to be in conjunction with Bacchus.

"Unfortunately there is no such planet," said Winning.

There must be a planet Bacchus," said Primrose," or I should blush for the Copernican system. It will be discovered one of these days."

"All very prettily observed," said Master Turner; "but perhaps I may venture to improve upon what has been said by recollecting the advantage which we now enjoy of a conjunction between Mercury and Bacchus in the house of another planet, and a fair one."

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'They ought to be in trine," said Reuben.

Why, I think your nephew is an astrologer," said old De Tabley, addressing Mrs. Mountjoy, and laughing heartily.

"I have read a little on the subject," said Reuben, slightly colouring.

Winning glanced at Primrose, as much as to say, What is there about which he has not read something?

With the exception of this little trifling conversation, which took place towards the end of the dinner, the day was a decided failure. As to Mr. Bavard, Reuben made an enemy of him for life, but he was compensated by the golden opinions he won from Master Turner, who extolled him highly to Mrs. Mountjoy; and having learned from her who he was, took Reuben aside just before he retired, and astonished him very much by saying, "I have not

the pleasure of knowing your father, but I heard the Chancellor say, not long ago, that the best sermon he ever heard in his life, was one delivered by a Mr. Medlicott, in a country church near Chichester; if you are the son of that distinguished gentleman and eminent divine, allow me to congratulate you."

CHAPTER II.

NOT IMPORTANT, BUT NOT LONG.

PRIMROSE often breakfasted with Mrs. Mountjoy: he did so on the day after the dinner related in the last chapter. Reuben mentioned what Master Turner had said to him, and told the story of his grandfather's sermon, which diverted his aunt and his friend extremely.

"By the by," said Primrose, "where is the Dean at present?" Reuben knew nothing about him.

Mrs. Mountjoy knew just as little. There was nothing extraordinary in this, for no man had so many whereabouts, between his ecclesiastical duties, his university connections, and his private affairs and speculations.

"But," said the widow, "it is so long now since I have heard of my father, that I begin to grow a little uneasy. I wonder where we would be most likely to hear something about him?" 'Well," said Primrose, "the Barsacs are connected with a house in the city-Barsac and Upjohn-perhaps by inquiring there we might pick up some information."

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Reuben and Primrose walked towards the city, through as thick a fog as encompassed Æneas when he visited Carthage. When they had got as far as the Temple, the darkness was actually Cimmerian, so they abandoned their purpose, but thought they might as well call upon Winning.

"If it were not for the fog," said Winning, "I should was glad to see you."

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Suppose a bill payable at sight were dishonoured on a day like this, could an action be maintained?" asked Primrose. "By the custom of London, I suppose it could ;" said Winning, groping about in the obscurity for chairs to accommodate his friends. He then stirred up his fire, which made the geo