is worthy of Amadis of
Gaul--but--(again addressing me) your adventures are really too shocking
a subject to treat lightly. We lay our serious orders on you to come to
our castle this night: we shall be alone."

"Willingly shall I repair to your bower, fayre ladie; but tell me, I
beseech you, how many persons are signified in the world 'alone?'"

"Why," answered Lady Roseville, "I fear we may have two or three people
with us; but I think, Ellen, we may promise our chevalier, that the
number shall not exceed twelve."

I bowed and rode on. What worlds would I not have given to have touched
the hand of the countess's companion, though only for an instant.
But--and that fearful but, chilled me, like an ice-bolt. I put spurs
to my horse, and dashed fiercely onwards. There was rather a high wind
stirring, and I bent my face from it, so as scarcely to see the course
of my spirited and impatient horse.

"What ho, Sir!--what ho!" cried a shrill voice--"for God's sake, don't
ride over me before dinner, whatever you do after it!"

I pulled up. "Ah, Lord Guloseton! how happy I am to see you; pray
forgive my blindness, and my horse's stupidity."

"'Tis an ill wind," answered the noble gourmand, "which blows nobody
good. An excellent proverb, the veracity of which is daily attested;
for, however unpleasant a keen wind may be, there is no doubt of its
being a marvellous whetter of that greatest of Heaven's blessings--an
appetite. Little, however, did I expect, that besides blowing me a
relish for my saute de foie gras, it would also blow me one who might,
probably, be a partaker of my enjoyment. Honour me with your company at
dinner to-day."

"What saloon will you dine in, my Lord Lucullus?" said I, in allusion to
the custom of the epicure, by whose name I addressed him.

"The saloon of Diana," replied Guloseton--"for she must certainly have
shot the fine buck of which Lord H. sent me the haunch that we shall
have to-day. It is the true old Meynell breed. I ask you not to meet Mr.
So-and-so, and Lord What-dye-call-him: I ask you to meet a saute de foie
gras, and a haunch of venison."

"I will most certainly pay them my respects. Never did I know before how
far things were better company than persons. Your lordship has taught me
that great truth."

"God bless me," cried Guloseton, with an air of vexation, "here comes
the Duke of Stilton, a horrid person, who told me the other day, at
my petit diner, when I apologized to hi