astonish the rats of St. Stephen's."

"Alas!" said I, "all one's clap-traps in that house must be baited."

"Nay, but a rat bites at any cheese, from Gloucester to Parmasan, and
you can easily scrape up a bit of some sort. Talking of the House,
do you see, by the paper, that the civic senator, Alderman W--, is at
Cheltenham?"

"I was not aware of it. I suppose he's cramming speeches and turtle for
the next season."

"How wonderfully," said Vincent, "your city dignities unloose the
tongue: directly a man has been a mayor, he thinks himself qualified for
a Tully at least. Faith, Venables asked me one day, what was the
Latin for spouting? and I told him, 'hippomanes, or a raging humour in
mayors.'"

After I had paid, through the medium of my risible muscles, due homage
to this witticism of Vincent's, he shut up his folio, called for his
hat, and we sauntered down into the street. As we passed by one of the
libraries, a whole mob of the dandies of the last night were lounging
about the benches placed before the shop windows.

"Pray, Vincent," said I, "remark those worthies, and especially that
tall meagre youth in the blue frock-coat, and the buff waistcoat; he is
Mr. Ritson, the De Rous (viz. the finished gentleman) of the place."

"I see him," answered Vincent: "he seems a most happy mixture of native
coarseness and artificial decoration. He puts me in mind of the picture
of the great ox set in a gilt frame."

"Or a made dish in Bloomsbury-square, garnished with cut carrots, by way
of adornment," said I.

"Or a flannel petticoat, with a fine crape over it," added Vincent.
"Well, well, these imitators are, after all, not worse than the
originals. When do you go up to town?"

"Not till my senatorial duties require me."

"Do you stay here till then?"

"As it pleases the gods. But, good Heavens! Vincent, what a beautiful
girl!"

Vincent turned. "O Dea certe," murmured he, and stopped.

The object of our exclamations was standing by a corner shop, apparently
waiting for some one within. Her face, at the moment I first saw her,
was turned full towards me. Never had I seen any countenance half so
lovely. She was apparently about twenty; her hair was of the richest
chesnut, and a golden light played through its darkness, as if a sunbeam
had been caught in those luxuriant tresses, and was striving in vain
to escape. Her eyes were of a light hazel, large, deep, and shaded into
softness (to use a modern expressio