oo? What is nature
without its scents?--and as long as they are absent from our desserts,
it is in vain that the Bard exclaims, that--

"'L'observateur de la belle Nature, S'extasie en voyant des fleurs en
confiture.'"

"It is an exquisite idea of yours," said Guloseton--"and the next time
you dine here, we will have perfumes. Dinner ought to be a reunion of
all the senses--

"'Gladness to the ear, nerve, heart, and sense.'"

There was a momentary pause. "My lord," said I, "what a lusty
lusciousness in this pear! it is like the style of the old English
poets. What think you of the seeming good understanding between Mr.
Gaskell and the Whigs?"

"I trouble myself little about it," replied Guloseton, helping himself
to some preserves--"politics disturb the digestion."

"Well," thought I, "I must ascertain some point in this man's character
easier to handle than his epicurism: all men are vain: let us find out
the peculiar vanity of mine host."

"The Tories," said I, "seem to think themselves exceedingly secure; they
attach no importance to the neutral members; it was but the other day,
Lord--told me that he did not care a straw for Mr.--, notwithstanding he
possessed four votes. Heard you ever such arrogance?"

"No, indeed," said Golouston, with a lazy air of indifference--"are you
a favourer of the olive?"

"No," said I, "I love it not; it hath an under taste of sourness, and
an upper of oil, which do not make harmony to my palate. But, as I was
saying, the Whigs, on the contrary, pay the utmost deference to their
partizans; and a man of fortune, rank, and parliamentary influence,
might have all the power without the trouble of a leader."

"Very likely," said Guloseton, drowsily.

"I must change my battery," thought I; but while I was meditating a new
attack, the following note was brought me:--

"For God's sake, Pelham, come out to me: I am waiting in the street to
see you; come directly, or it will be too late to render me the service
I would ask of you.

"R. Glanville."

I rose instantly. "You must excuse me, Lord Guloseton, I am called
suddenly away."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the gourmand; "some tempting viand--post prandia
Callirhoe."

"My good lord," said I, not heeding his insinuation--"I leave you with
the greatest regret."

"And I part from you with the same; it is a real pleasure to see such a
person at dinner."

"Adieu! my host--'Je vais vivre et manger en sage.'"

CHAPTER LIX.

I d