ne was in the mouth of every tradesman, who authenticated his
own vile inventions by foisting them on his Lordship. The most grotesque
fashions suddenly inundated the metropolis; and when the Duke of St.
James ventured to express his disapprobation, he found his empire was
over. 'They were sorry that it did not meet his Grace's taste, but
really what his Grace had suggested was quite gone by. This was the only
hat, or cane, or coat which any civilised being could be seen with. Lord
Marylebone wore, or bore, no other.'

In higher circles, it was much the same. Although the dandies would not
bate an inch, and certainly would not elect the young Marquess for their
leader, they found, to their dismay, that the empire which they were
meditating to defend, had already slipped away from their grasp. A
new race of adventurous youths appeared upon the stage. Beards, and
greatcoats even rougher, bull-dogs instead of poodles, clubs instead of
canes, cigars instead of perfumes, were the order of the day. There was
no end to boat-racing; Crockford's sneered at White's; and there was
even a talk of reviving the ring. Even the women patronised the young
Marquess, and those who could not be blind to his real character, were
sure, that, if well managed, he would not turn out ill.

Assuredly our hero, though shelved, did not envy his successful rival.
Had he been, instead of one for whom he felt a sovereign contempt, a
being even more accomplished than himself, pity and not envy would have
been the sentiment he would have yielded to his ascendant star.
But, nevertheless, he could not be insensible to the results of this
incident; and the advent of the young Marquess seemed like the sting in
the epigram of his life. After all his ruinous magnificence, after
all the profuse indulgence of his fantastic tastes, he had sometimes
consoled himself, even in the bitterness of satiety, by reminding
himself, that he at least commanded the admiration of his
fellow-creatures, although it had been purchased at a costly price. Not
insensible to the power of his wealth, the magic of his station, he had,
however, ventured to indulge in the sweet belief that these qualities
were less concerned in the triumphs of his career than his splendid
person, his accomplished mind, his amiable disposition, and his finished
manner; his beauty, his wit, his goodness, and his grace. Even from this
delusion, too, was he to waken, and, for the first time in his life, he