. Pole," (Lady Gosstre addressed that gentleman,) "I must hope that
you will leave this dining-hall as it is; there is nothing in the
neighbourhood to match it!"

"Delightful!" interposed Laura Tinley; "but is it settled?"

Mr. Pole leaned forward to her ladyship; and suddenly catching the sense
of her words, "Ah, why not?" he said, and reached his hand to some
champagne, which he raised to his mouth, but drank nothing of. Reflection
appeared to tell him that his safety lay in drinking, and he drained the
glass at a gulp. Mrs. Chump had it filled immediately, and explained to a
wondering neighbour, "It's that that keeps 'm on his legs."

"We shall envy you immensely," said Laura Tinley to Arabella; who
replied, "I assure you that no decision has been come to."

"Ah, you want to surprise us with cards on a sudden from Besworth!"

"That is not the surprise I have in store," returned Arabella sedately.

"Then you have a surprise? Do tell me."

"How true to her sex is the lady who seeks to turn 'what it is' into
'what it isn't!'" said Freshfield, trusty lieutenant.

"I think a little peeping makes surprises sweeter; I'm weak enough to
think that," Lady Charlotte threw in.

"That is so true!" exclaimed Laura.

"Well; and a secret shared is a fact uncommonly well aired--that is also
true. But, remember, you do not desire the surprise; you are a destroying
force to it;" and Freshfield bowed.

"Curiosity!" sighed some one, relieving Freshfield from a sense of the
guilt of heaviness.

"I am a Pandora," Laura smilingly said.

"To whom?" Tracy Runningbrook's shout was heard.

"With champagne in the heads of the men, and classics in the heads of the
women, we shall come; to something," remarked Lady Gosstre half to
herself and Georgiana near her.

An observer of Mr. Pole might have seen that he was fretting at a
restriction on his tongue. Occasionally he would sit forward erect in his
chair, shake his coat-collar, frown, and sound a preparatory 'hem; but it
ended in his rubbing his hair away on the back of his head. Mrs. Chump,
who was herself perceiving new virtues in champagne with every glass,
took the movements as indicative of a companion exploration of the
spiritual resources of this vintage. She no longer called for it, but
lifted a majestic finger (a Siddons or tenth-Muse finger, as Freshfield
named it) behind the row of heads; upon which champagne speedily bubbled
in the glasses. Laughter at the performanc