his meat stop his mouth. The preponderance of his observations, perhaps, were addressed to Amelia, though a watchful observer might have seen that the spectacles were oftener turned upon Emily. Up to the withdrawal of the cloth, however, there was no perceptible advantage on either side.

As his lordship settled to the sweets, at which he was a great hand at dessert, Amelia essayed to try her influence with the popular subject of a ball.

‘I wish the members of your hunt would give us a ball, my lord,’ observed she.

‘Ah, hay, hum, ball,’ replied he, ladling up the syrup of some preserved peaches that he had been eating; ‘ball, ball, ball. No place to give it -- no place to give it,’ repeated he.

‘Oh, give it in the town-hall, or the long room at the Angel,’ replied she.

‘Town-hall -- long room at the Angel -- Angel at the long room of the town-hall -- oh, certainly, certainly, certainly,’ muttered he, scraping away at the contents of his plate.

‘Then that’s a bargain, mind,’ observed Amelia, significantly.

‘Bargain, bargain, bargain -- certainly,’ replied he; ‘and I’ll lead off with you, or you’ll lead off with me -- whichever way it is -- meanwhile, I’ll trouble you for a piece of that gingerbread.’

Having supplied him with a most liberal slice, she resumed the subject of the ball.

‘Then we’ll fix it so,’ observed she.

‘Oh, fix it so, certainly -- certainly fix it so,’ replied his lordship, filling his mouth full of gingerbread.

‘Suppose we have it on the day of the races?’ continued Amelia.

‘Couldn’t be better,’ replied his lordship; ‘couldn’t be better,’ repeated he, eyeing her intently through his formidable specs.

His lordship was quite in the assenting humour, and would have agreed to anything -- anything short of lending one a five-pound note.

Amelia was charmed with her success. Despite the spot on her nose, she felt she was winning.

His lordship sat like a target, shot at by all, but making the most of his time, both in the way of eating and staring between questions.

At length the ladies withdrew, and his lordship having waddled to the door to assist their egress, now availed himself of Jawleyford’s invitation to occupy an armchair during the enjoyment of his ‘Wintle.’

Whether it was the excellence of the beverage, or that his lordship was unaccustomed to wine-drinking, or that Jawleyford’s conversation was unusually agreeable, we know not, but the summons to tea and coffee was disregarded, and when at length they did make their appearance, his lordship was what the ladies call rather elevated, and talked thicker than there was any occasion for. He was very voluble at first -- told all how Sponge had knocked him about, how he detested him, and wouldn’t allow him to come to the hunt ball, &c; but he gradually died out, and at last fell asleep beside Mrs Jawleyford on the sofa, with his little legs crossed, and a half-emptied coffee-cup in his hand, which Mr Jawleyford and she kept anxiously watching, expecting the contents to be over the fine satin furniture every moment.

In this pleasant position they remained till he awoke himself with a hearty snore, and turned the coffee over on to the carpet. Fortunately there was little damage done, and, it being nearly twelve o’clock, his lordship waddled off to bed.