to take me to your
own: your dress appears very correct."

"You show your judgment, Newland, it _is_ correct; Stulz will be
delighted to have your name on his books, and to do justice to that
figure. _Allons donc_."

We sauntered up St James's Street, and before I had arrived at Stulz's,
I had been introduced to at least twenty of the young men about town.
The Major was most particular in his directions about the clothes, all
of which he ordered; and as I knew that he was well acquainted with the
fashion, I gave him carte blanche. When we left the shop, he said, "Now,
my dear Newland, I have given you a proof of friendship, which no other
man in England has had. Your dress will be the ne plus ultra. There are
little secrets only known to the initiated, and Stulz is aware that this
time I am in earnest. I am often asked to do the same for others, and I
pretend so to do; but a wink from me is sufficient, and Stulz dares not
dress them. Don't you want some bijouterie? or have you any at home?"

"I may as well have a few trifles," replied I.

We entered a celebrated jeweller's, and he selected for me to the amount
of about forty pounds. "That will do--never buy much; for it is
necessary to change every three months at least. What is the price of
this chain?"

"It is only fifteen guineas, Major."

"Well, I shall take it; but recollect," continued the Major; "I tell you
honestly, I never shall pay you."

The jeweller smiled, bowed, and laughed; the Major threw the chain round
his neck, and we quitted the shop.

"At all events, Major, they appear not to believe your word in that
shop."

"My dear fellow, that's their own fault, not mine. I tell them honestly
I never will pay them; and you may depend upon it, I intend most
sacredly to keep my word. I never do pay anybody, for the best of all
possible reasons, I have no money; but then I do them a service--I make
them fashionable, and they know it."

"What debts do you pay then, Major?"

"Let me think--that requires consideration. Oh! I pay my washer-woman."

"Don't you pay your debts of honour?"

"Debts of honour! why I'll tell _you_ the truth; for I know that we
shall hunt in couples. If I win I take the money: but if I lose--why
then I forget to pay; and I always tell them so before I set down to the
table. If they won't believe me, it's not my fault. But what's the hour?
Come, I must make a few calls, and will introduce you."

We sauntered on to Grosvenor Sq