see I'm perfectly steady. Now
that may strike you as very singular, but I think I can explain it: you
see their brains--I mention no names, but you'll understand to whom I
allude--their brains are light to begin with, and the fumes of the
fermented liquor render them lighter still, and produce an entire
light-headedness, or giddiness, resulting in intoxication; whereas my
brains, being composed of more solid materials, will absorb a
considerable quantity of this alcoholic vapour without the production of
any sensible result--'

'I think you will find a sensible result produced on that tea,'
interrupted Mr. Hargrave, 'by the quantity of sugar you have put into it.
Instead of your usual complement of one lump, you have put in six.'

'Have I so?' replied the philosopher, diving with his spoon into the cup,
and bringing up several half-dissolved pieces in confirmation of the
assertion. 'Hum! I perceive. Thus, Madam, you see the evil of absence
of mind--of thinking too much while engaged in the common concerns of
life. Now, if I had had my wits about me, like ordinary men, instead of
within me like a philosopher, I should not have spoiled this cup of tea,
and been constrained to trouble you for another.'

'That is the sugar-basin, Mr. Grimsby. Now you have spoiled the sugar
too; and I'll thank you to ring for some more, for here is Lord
Lowborough at last; and I hope his lordship will condescend to sit down
with us, such as we are, and allow me to give him some tea.'

His lordship gravely bowed in answer to my appeal, but said nothing.
Meantime, Hargrave volunteered to ring for the sugar, while Grimsby
lamented his mistake, and attempted to prove that it was owing to the
shadow of the urn and the badness of the lights.

Lord Lowborough had entered a minute or two before, unobserved by anyone
but me, and had been standing before the door, grimly surveying the
company. He now stepped up to Annabella, who sat with her back towards
him, with Hattersley still beside her, though not now attending to her,
being occupied in vociferously abusing and bullying his host.

'Well, Annabella,' said her husband, as he leant over the back of her
chair, 'which of these three "bold, manly spirits" would you have me to
resemble?'

'By heaven and earth, you shall resemble us all!' cried Hattersley,
starting up and rudely seizing him by the arm. 'Hallo, Huntingdon!' he
shouted--'I've got him! Come, man, and help me! And d--n me,