ed his head a moment with the handle of a spoon, then
opening his pocket-knife, proceeded to excavate some recesses in his
teeth with the blade.

"Is Dinks a rising man in Massachusetts, do you know, Sir?" asked Captain
Lamb of Abel, while the knife waited and rested a moment on the outside
of the mouth.

"I believe he is, Sir," said Abel, at a venture.

"Wasn't there some talk of his going on a foreign mission? Seems to me
I heard something."

"Oh! yes," replied Abel. "I've heard a good deal about it. But I am not
sure that he has received his commission yet."

Captain Lamb cocked his eye at Abel as if he had been a glass of wine.

Abel rose, and, seating himself by Sligo Moultrie, entered into
conversation.

But his object in moving was not talk. It was to give the cue to the
company of changing their places, so that he might sit where he would. He
drifted and tacked about the table for some time, and finally sailed into
the port toward which he had been steering--an empty chair by Mr. Dinks.
They said, good-evening. Mr. Dinks added, with a patronizing air,

"I presume you are not often at dinners of this kind, Mr. Newt?"

"No," replied Abel; "I usually dine on veal and spring chickens."

"Oh!" said Mr. Dinks, who thought Abel meant that he generally ate that
food.

"I mean that men of my years usually feed with younger and softer people
than I see around me here," explained the young man.

"Yes, of course, I understand," replied Mr. Dinks, loftily, who had not
the least idea what Abel meant; "young men must expect to begin at
women's dinners."

"They must, indeed," replied Abel. "Now, Mr. Dinks, one of the
pleasantest I remember was this last winter, under the auspices of your
wife. Let me see, there were Mr. Moultrie there, Mr. Whitloe and Miss
Magot, Mr. Bowdoin Beacon and Miss Amy Waring--and who else? Oh! I beg
pardon, your son Alfred and my sister Fanny."

As he spoke the young gentleman filled a glass of wine, and looked over
the rim at Mr. Dinks as he drained it.

"Yes," returned the Honorable Mr. Dinks, "I don't go to women's dinners."

He seemed entirely unconscious that he was conversing with the brother of
the young lady with whom his son had eloped. Abel smiled to himself.

"I suppose," said he, "we ought to congratulate each other, Mr. Dinks."

The honorable gentleman looked at Abel, paused a moment, then said:

"My son marries at his own risk. Sir. He is of years of discretion, I