e last arrival.
Treasury said Merdle's work punished him a little. Bishop said he was
glad to think that this wealth flowed into the coffers of a gentleman
who accepted it with meekness.

Powder! There was so much Powder in waiting, that it flavoured the
dinner. Pulverous particles got into the dishes, and Society's meats had
a seasoning of first-rate footmen. Mr Merdle took down a countess who
was secluded somewhere in the core of an immense dress, to which she
was in the proportion of the heart to the overgrown cabbage. If so low a
simile may be admitted, the dress went down the staircase like a richly
brocaded Jack in the Green, and nobody knew what sort of small person
carried it.

Society had everything it could want, and could not want, for dinner.
It had everything to look at, and everything to eat, and everything to
drink. It is to be hoped it enjoyed itself; for Mr Merdle's own share of
the repast might have been paid for with eighteenpence. Mrs Merdle was
magnificent. The chief butler was the next magnificent institution of
the day. He was the stateliest man in the company. He did nothing, but
he looked on as few other men could have done. He was Mr Merdle's
last gift to Society. Mr Merdle didn't want him, and was put out of
countenance when the great creature looked at him; but inappeasable
Society would have him--and had got him.

The invisible countess carried out the Green at the usual stage of
the entertainment, and the file of beauty was closed up by the bosom.
Treasury said, Juno. Bishop said, Judith.

Bar fell into discussion with Horse Guards concerning courts-martial.
Brothers Bellows and Bench struck in. Other magnates paired off. Mr
Merdle sat silent, and looked at the table-cloth. Sometimes a magnate
addressed him, to turn the stream of his own particular discussion
towards him; but Mr Merdle seldom gave much attention to it, or did more
than rouse himself from his calculations and pass the wine.

When they rose, so many of the magnates had something to say to Mr
Merdle individually that he held little levees by the sideboard, and
checked them off as they went out at the door.

Treasury hoped he might venture to congratulate one of England's
world-famed capitalists and merchant-princes (he had turned that
original sentiment in the house a few times, and it came easy to him) on
a new achievement. To extend the triumphs of such men was to extend
the triumphs and resources of the nation; and T