doubted my talents to provide anything grand; besides, the hotel people
would be sure to want to supply the things themselves, and ask for the
money in advance. Or if I didn't humour them they would to a certainty
turn crusty and critical, and spoil my party for me.

No, the only thing was to make the best of Beadle Square, and to that
end I determined to tackle Mrs Nash at once.

You may fancy the good woman's surprise and scorn when I propounded to
her my ambitious scheme.

"You give a party! Fiddlesticks! You'll do nothing of the sort."

"Please, Mrs Nash," pleaded I, "it will be a very quiet one, I
promise."

"And where do you expect to have it, I wonder?" said she. "In the coal-
cellar, I suppose? That's the only spot in the house that ain't
occupied."

"Oh," replied I, thinking it judicious to laugh at this facetious
suggestion, "I'd like the parlour for that evening, if you could manage
it, Mrs Nash."

"What! are you going to ask all the fellows here to your party, then?"

"Oh, no. Couldn't you let them know the parlour's engaged for that
evening?--just for once? You know I'd pay you something--"

"I dare say you would!--you'd pay anything, you would! And what are you
going to give them all to eat, eh?"

"Oh, I'll see to that," said I.

This was an unfortunate reply of mine. Mrs Nash, as it happened, was
inclined to enter into my scheme, and, had I only known it, would have
offered to take some trouble to help me. But this answer of mine
offended her sorely.

"Oh, very well," said she, loftily; "you don't want me, I can see, and
I'm just as glad."

In vain I protested, and implored her not to be vexed. I hadn't meant
it at all. I couldn't possibly do without her. I was a beast to say
what I had, and so on. The most I could get out of her was a vague
promise that I might have the room on the evening in question. As for
the entertainment, she washed her hands of the whole affair.

I was inclined to give it up. Not that I had ever imagined she would
help me; but to have her downright unfriendly at such a time would, I
knew, ruin the thing totally.

For some days she would listen to nothing at all on the subject.

"It's your look-out," she said to every appeal. "Let's see what sort of
a hand you'll make of it, my beauty."

I was in despair. I longed to issue my invitations, but till Mrs Nash
was "squared" it was out of the question to name the happy day. It was
evidently usel