dragoons, was silenced--the pit
appeared impassable. Did the Countess crow over her advantage? Mark her:
the lady's face is entirely given up to partridges. 'English sports are
so much envied abroad,' she says: but what she dreads is a reflection,
for that leads off from the point. A portion of her mind she keeps to
combat them in Lady Jocelyn and others who have the tendency: the rest
she divides between internal-prayers for succour, and casting about for
another popular subject to follow partridges. Now, mere talent, as
critics say when they are lighting candles round a genius, mere talent
would have hit upon pheasants as the natural sequitur, and then diverged
to sports--a great theme, for it ensures a chorus of sneers at
foreigners, and so on probably to a discussion of birds and beasts best
adapted to enrapture the palate of man. Stories may succeed, but they are
doubtful, and not to be trusted, coming after cookery. After an exciting
subject which has made the general tongue to wag, and just enough heated
the brain to cause it to cry out for spiced food--then start your story:
taking care that it be mild; for one too marvellous stops the tide, the
sense of climax being strongly implanted in all bosoms. So the Countess
told an anecdote--one of Mel's. Mr. George Uplift was quite familiar with
it, and knew of one passage that would have abashed him to relate 'before
ladies.' The sylph-like ease with which the Countess floated over this
foul abysm was miraculous. Mr. George screwed his eye-lids queerly, and
closed his jaws with a report, completely beaten. The anecdote was of the
character of an apologue, and pertained to game. This was, as it
happened, a misfortune; for Mr. Raikes had felt himself left behind by
the subject; and the stuff that was in this young man being naturally
ebullient, he lay by to trip it, and take a lead. His remarks brought on
him a shrewd cut from the Countess, which made matters worse; for a pun
may also breed puns, as doth an anecdote. The Countess's stroke was so
neat and perfect that it was something for the gentlemen to think over;
and to punish her for giving way to her cleverness and to petty vexation,
'Hem!' sounded once more, and then: 'May I ask you if the present Baronet
is in England?'

Now Lady Jocelyn perceived that some attack was directed against her
guest. She allowed the Countess to answer:

'The eldest was drowned in the Lisbon waters'

And then said: 'But who is it th