of the coat, that he desisted from
the deluge of hot water, with which, having filled the tea-pot, he
proceeded to swamp every thing else upon the tray, in his unfortunate
abstraction. Mrs. Clanfrizzle screamed--the old ladies accompanied her
--the young ones tittered--the men laughed--and, in a word, poor Cudmore,
perfectly unconscious of any thing extraordinary, felt himself the
admired of all admirers,--very little, it is true, to his own
satisfaction. After some few minutes exposure to these eclats de rire,
he succeeded in depositing the source of his griefs within the fender,
and once more retired to his sanctuary,--having registered a vow, which,
should I speak it, would forfeit his every claim to gallantry for ever.

Whether in the vow aforesaid Mr. Cudmore had only been engaged in that
species of tesselating which furnishes the pavement so celebrated in the
lower regions, I know not; but true it is, that he retired that night to
his chamber very much discomfited at his debut in the great world, and
half disposed to believe that nature had neither intended him for a
Brummel nor a D'Orsay. While he was ruminating on such matters, he was
joined by O'Flaherty, with whom he had been always more intimate than any
other inmate of the house--Tom's tact having entirely concealed what the
manners of the others too plainly evinced, the perfect appreciation of
the student's oddity and singularity. After some few observations on
general matters, O'Flaherty began with a tone of some seriousness to
express towards Cudmore the warm interest he had ever taken in him, since
his first coming among them; his great anxiety for his welfare, and his
firm resolve that no chance or casual inattention to mere ceremonial
observances on his part should ever be seized on by the other guests
as a ground for detraction or an excuse for ridicule of him.

"Rely upon it, my dear boy," said he, "I have watched over you like a
parent; and having partly foreseen that something like this affair of
to-night would take place sooner or later"--

"What affair?" said Cudmore--his eyes staring half out of his head.

"That business of the kettle."

"Kett--el. The kettle! What of that?" said Cudmore.

"What of it? Why, if you don't feel it, I am sure it is not my duty to
remind you; only"--

"Feel it--oh, yes. I saw them laughing, because I spilled the water over
old Mrs. Jones, or something of that sort."

"No, no, my dear young friend, th