chair, Cutbill, and try a cheroot--I know you like a
cheroot. And now for a pleasant gossip; for I _will_ give myself a
holiday this morning."

"I am really afraid I interrupt you," began Cutbill.

"You do; I won't affect to deny it. You squash that despatch yonder, as
effectually as if you threw the ink bottle over it. When once I get to
talk with a man like you, I can't go back to the desk again. Don't you
know it yourself? Haven't you felt it scores of times? The stupid man is
got rid of just as readily as you throw a pebble out of your shoe; it is
your clever fellow that pricks you like a nail."

"I 'm sorry, my Lord, you should feel me so painfully," said Cutbill,
laughing, but with an expression that showed how the flattery had
touched him.

"You don't know what a scrape I've got into about _you_."

"_About me?_"

"Yes. My Lady heard you were here the other morning, and gave me a
regular scolding for not having sent to tell her. You know you were old
friends in Ireland."

"I scarcely ventured to hope her Ladyship would remember me."

"What! Not remember your admirable imitation of the speakers in the
House?--your charming songs that you struck off with such facility,--the
very best impromptus I ever heard. And, mark you, Cutbill, I knew
Theodore Hook intimately,--I mean, difference of age and such-like
considered, for I was a boy at the time,--and I say it advisedly, you
are better than Hook."

"Oh, my Lord, this is great flattery!"

"Hook was uncertain, too. He was what the French call 'journalier.'
Now, that, you are not."

Cutbill smiled; for, though he did not in the least know the quality
ascribed to him, he was sure it was complimentary, and was satisfied.

"Then there was another point of difference between you. Hook was
a snob. He had the uneasy consciousness of social inferiority, which
continually drove him to undue familiarities. Now, I will say, I never
met a man so free from this as yourself. I have made a positive study
of you, Cutbill, and I protest I think, as regards tact, you are
unrivalled."

"I can only say, my Lord, that I never knew it."

"After all," said Lord Culduff, rising and standing with his back
to the fire, while, dropping his eyelids, he seemed to fall into a
reflective vein,--"after all, this, as regards worldly success, is
the master quality. You may have every gift and every talent and every
grace, and, wanting 'tact', they are all but valueless."

Cutbill wa