surrounded by a stalwart Court, in
whom a practised eye would have discerned guardsmen, and Ripton, with a
sinking of the heart, apprehended lords. They were fine men, offering
inanimate homage. The trim of their whiskerage, the cut of their coats,
the high-bred indolence in their aspect, eclipsed Ripton's sense of
self-esteem. But they kindly looked over him. Occasionally one committed
a momentary outrage on him with an eye-glass, seeming to cry out in a
voice of scathing scorn, "Who's this?" and Ripton got closer to his hero
to justify his humble pretensions to existence and an identity in the
shadow of him. Richard gazed about. Heroes do not always know what to say
or do; and the cold bath before dinner in strange company is one of the
instances. He had recognized his superb Bellona in the lady by the garden
window. For Brayder the men had nods and yokes, the ladies a pretty
playfulness. He was very busy, passing between the groups, chatting,
laughing, taking the feminine taps he received, and sometimes returning
them in sly whispers. Adrian sat down and crossed his legs, looking
amused and benignant.

"Whose dinner is it?" Ripton heard a mignonne beauty ask of a cavalier.

"Mount's, I suppose," was the answer.

"Where is he? Why don't he come?"

"An affaire, I fancy."

"There he is again! How shamefully he treats Mrs. Mount!"

"She don't seem to cry over it."

Mrs. Mount was flashing her teeth and eyes with laughter at one of her
Court, who appeared to be Fool.

Dinner was announced. The ladies proclaimed extravagant appetites.
Brayder posted his three friends. Ripton found himself under the lee of a
dame with a bosom. On the other aide of him was the mignonne. Adrian was
at the lower end of the table. Ladies were in profusion, and he had his
share. Brayder drew Richard from seat to seat. A happy man had
established himself next to Mrs. Mount. Him Brayder hailed to take the
head of the table. The happy man objected, Brayder continued urgent, the
lady tenderly insisted, the happy man grimaced, dropped into the post of
honour, strove to look placable. Richard usurped his chair, and was not
badly welcomed by his neighbour.

Then the dinner commenced, and had all the attention of the company, till
the flying of the first champagne-cork gave the signal, and a hum began
to spread. Sparkling wine, that looseneth the tongue, and displayeth the
verity, hath also the quality of colouring it. The ladies laughed high