rtal hours and said
when he came out, that he would remember me next time. I ain't tasted no
wittals to-day except some cat's-meat and a cold potatoe what was given
me by a cabman; but I have got a quid here, and if you are very low I'll
give you half."

In the meantime Lord Valentine and the Princess Stephanie of Eurasberg
with some companions worthy of such a pair, were dancing a new Mazurka
before the admiring assembly at Deloraine House. The ball was in the
statue gallery illumined on this night in the Russian fashion, which
while it diffused a brilliant light throughout the beautiful chamber,
was peculiarly adapted to develope the contour of the marble forms of
grace and loveliness that were ranged around.

"Where is Arabella?" enquired Lord Marney of his mother, "I want to
present young Huntingford to her. He can be of great use to me, but he
bores me so, I cannot talk to him. I want to present him to Arabella."

"Arabella is in the blue drawing-room. I saw her just now with Mr Jermyn
and Charles. Count Soudriaffsky is teaching them some Russian tricks."

"What are Russian tricks to me; she must talk to young Huntingford;
everything depends on his working with me against the Cut-and-Come-again
branch-line; they have refused me my compensation, and I am not going to
have my estate cut up into ribbons without compensation."

"My dear Lady Deloraine," said Lady de Mowbray. "How beautiful your
gallery looks to-night! Certainly there is nothing in London that lights
up so well."

"Its greatest ornaments are its guests. I am charmed to see Lady Joan
looking so well."

"You think so?"

"Indeed."

"I wish--" and here Lady de Mowbray gave a smiling sigh. "What do you
think of Mr Mountchesney?"

"He is universally admired."

"So every one says, and yet--"

"Well what do you think of the Dashville, Fitz?" said Mr Berners to Lord
Fitzheron, "I saw you dancing with her."

"I can't bear her: she sets up to be natural and is only rude; mistakes
insolence for innocence; says everything which comes first to her lips
and thinks she is gay when she is only giddy."

"'Tis brilliant," said Lady Joan to Mr Mountchesney.

"When you are here," he murmured.

"And yet a ball in a gallery of art is not in my opinion in good taste.
The associations which are suggested by sculpture are not festive.
Repose is the characteristic of sculpture. Do not you think so?"

"Decidedly," said Mr Mountchesney. "We danced in the galle