o,
could say good things now and then. One day at Oatlands, as he was
mounting his horse to ride to town, seeing a poor woman driven from the
door, he asked the servant what she was. "A beggar, your royal highness:
nothing but a soldier's wife."--"Nothing but a soldier's wife! And pray,
sir, what is your mistress?" Of course, the poor woman was called back
and relieved.

Still Brummell continued in high life, and was one of the four who gave
the memorable _fete_ at the Argyll Rooms in July 1813, in consequence of
having won a considerable sum at hazard. The other three were, Sir Henry
Mildmay, Pierrepoint, and Lord Alvanley. The difficulty was, whether or
not to invite the Prince, who had quarrelled with Mildmay as well as
with Brummell. In this solemn affair Pierrepoint sounded the Prince, and
ascertained that he would accept the invitation if it were proposed to
him. When the Prince arrived, and was of course received by the four
givers of the _fete_, he shook hands with Alvanley and Pierrepoint, but
took no notice whatever of the others. Brummell was indignant, and, at
the close of the night, would not attend the Prince to his carriage.
This was observed, and the Prince's remark on it next day was--"Had
Brummell taken the cut I gave him last night good-humouredly, I should
have renewed my intimacy with him." How that was to be done, however,
without lying down to be kicked, it would be difficult to discover.
Brummell however, on this occasion, was undoubtedly as much in the right
as the Prince was in the wrong.

Brummell, in conformity to the habits of the time, and the proprieties
of his caste, was of course a gambler, and of course was rapidly ruined;
but we have no knowledge that he went through the whole career, and
turned swindler. One night he was playing with Combe, who united the
three characters of a lover of play, a brewer, and an alderman. It was
at Brookes's, and in the year of his mayoralty. "Come, Mash Tub, what do
you set?" said the Beau. "Twenty-five guineas," was the answer. The Beau
won, and won the same sum twelve times running. Then, putting the cash
in his pocket, said with a low bow, "Thank you, alderman; for this, I'll
always patronize your porter."--"Very well, sir," said Combe dryly, "I
only wish every other blackguard in London would do the same."

At this time play ran high at the clubs. A baronet now living was said
to have lost at Watier's L.10,000 at one sitting, at _ecarte_. In 1814,