he found his assiduous
Coridon burning an aromatic pastile to disperse the compound of
villanous exhalations arising from the condensed metropolitan
atmosphere. Once more in a state of repose, to the repeated and almost
affecting solicitations of his faithful attendant, who alternately
presented to him the hyson of Pekoe, the bohea of Twankay, the fragrant
berry from the Asiatic shore, and the frothing and perfumed decoction of
the Indian nut, our hero shook his head in denial, until he at last was
prevailed upon to sip a small liqueur glass of _eau sucree_." The fact
is, Arthur, he is in love--don't you perceive? Now introduce a friend,
who rallies him--then a resolution to think no more of the heroine--a
billet on a golden salver--a counter resolution--a debate which equipage
to order--a decision at last--hat, gloves, and furred great-coat--and by
that time you will have arrived to the middle of the first volume.

_A._ I perceive; but I shall certainly stick there without your
assistance.

_B._ You shall have it, my dear fellow. In a week I will call again, and
see how you get on. Then we'll introduce the heroine; that, I can tell
you, requires some tact--_au revoir._

_A._ Thanks, many thanks, my dear Barnstaple. Fare you well.

[_Exit Barnstaple._

_A._ (_Looking over his memoranda._)--It will do! (_Hopping and dancing
about the room._) Hurrah! my tailor's bill will be paid after all!

PART II

[_Mr Arthur Ansard's Chambers as before. Mr Ansard, with his eyes fixed
upon the wig block, gnawing the feather end of his pen. The table,
covered with sundry sheets of foolscap, shows strong symptoms of the
Novel progressing._]

_Ansard_ (_solus_).

Where is Barnstaple? If he do not come soon, I shall have finished my
novel without a heroine. Well, I'm not the first person who has been
foiled by a woman. (_Continues to gnaw his pen in a brown study._)

_Barnstaple enters unperceived, and slaps Ansard on the shoulder. The
latter starts up._

_B._ So, friend Ansard, making your dinner off your pen: it is not every
novel writer who can contrive to do that even in anticipation. Have you
profited by my instructions?

_A._ I wish I had. I assure you that this light diet has not
contributed, as might be expected, to assist a heavy head; and one
feather is not sufficient to enable my genius to take wing. If the
public knew what dull work it is to write a novel, they would not be
surprised at finding them dul