ng
in the eyes of the lady.

Overtop proceeded to deepen the favorable impression which he had made
upon this charming patroness of intellect.

"Did it ever occur to you how many subjects for the highest order of
poetry lie unnoticed all about us? Take that chandelier, for example,
the prismatic drops of which are dull in the shade, but sparkle with
all the colors of the rainbow in the gaslight. Might not those hidden
splendors be compared to that genius whose brilliancy is alone evoked by
Beauty's radiant smile?"

Marcus Wilkeson squirmed, and Matthew Maltboy felt uneasy, while their
friend was delivering this elaborate idea, and felt easier when he
reached the end in safety. Mr. Overtop himself shared in the sensation
of relief.

"Beautiful! beautiful!" cried Mrs. Slapman, in a species of rapture. "I
must repeat that delicious thought to Chickson. But not now." And she
looked inquiringly at Overtop, as if in expectation that he would utter
another new TRUTH immediately. That gentleman not happening to have one
on his tongue's end, Mrs. Slapman was kind enough to give him time for
reflection.

CHAPTER X.

INFIRMITIES OF GENIUS.

"Allow me to point out some of my friends, Mr. Overtop. Among them are
faces which you may have seen. If not, you will at least recognize
several of the names."

"But I must protest that I am monopolizing too much of your time,
madam," interposed Overtop, conscious that his neglected friends were
looking on awkwardly, and waiting for him.

"And I protest against your protesting," said Mrs. Slapman, with a merry
laugh. So saying, she motioned him to one of the front windows, and,
under the shade of heavy blue and gold curtains, commenced to point out
notable guests.

Mr. Overtop observed, first with regret and then with pride, that their
withdrawal into a corner elicited looks of surprise and curiosity, not
unmingled with envy, from the little group that hovered about the
refreshment table, and drank Mrs. Slapman's fine wines, and laughed and
joked together. He was glad to see that his two friends sauntered
through the parlors, examining the pictures and articles of taste which
caught the eye on every side; and that Mr. Quigg was engrossed in the
examination of some books on a centre table, opening them, and smoothing
their fair pages with his hand as if they were ledgers.

"You see that stout man with the double chin--the one drinking
champagne, to the left of the table? Tha