law to one another, and those
ferocious dandies, in rowing shirts and astonishing pins and waistcoats,
who represented the idle part of the little community. The humble and
good-natured Lowton had felt attracted by Pen's superior looks and
presence--and had made acquaintance with him at the mess by opening the
conversation.

"This is boiled-beef day, I believe, sir," said Lowton to Pen.

"Upon my word, sir, I'm not aware," said Pen, hardly able to contain his
laughter, but added, "I'm a stranger; this is my first term;" on which
Lowton began to point out to him the notabilities in the Hall.

"That's Boosey the bencher, the bald one sitting under the picture and
aving soup; I wonder whether it's turtle? They often ave turtle. Next
is Balls, the King's Counsel, and Swettenham--Hodge and Swettenham, you
know. That's old Grump, the senior of the bar; they say he's dined here
forty years. They often send 'em down their fish from the benchers to
the senior table. Do you see those four fellows seated opposite us?
Those are regular swells--tip-top fellows, I can tell you--Mr. Trail,
the Bishop of Ealing's son, Honourable Fred. Ringwood, Lord Cinqbar's
brother, you know. He'll have a good place, I bet any money; and Bob
Suckling, who's always with him--a high fellow too. Ha! ha!" Here Lowton
burst into a laugh.

"What is it?" said Pen, still amused.

"I say, I like to mess with those chaps," Lowton said, winking his eye
knowingly, and pouring out his glass of wine.

"And why?" asked Pen.

"Why! they don't come down here to dine, you know, they only make
believe to dine. They dine here, Law bless you! They go to some of the
swell clubs, or else to some grand dinner-party. You see their names in
the Morning Post at all the fine parties in London. Why, I bet anything
that Ringwood has his cab, or Trail his Brougham (he's a devil of a
fellow, and makes the bishop's money spin, I can tell you) at the corner
of Essex Street at this minute. They dine! They won't dine these two
hours, I dare say."

"But why should you like to mess with them, if they don't eat any
dinner?" Pen asked, still puzzled. "There's plenty, isn't there?"

"How green you are," said Lowton. "Excuse me, but you are green. They
don't drink any wine, don't you see, and a fellow gets the bottle to
himself if he likes it when he messes with those three chaps. That's why
Corkoran got in with 'em."

"Ah, Mr. Lowton, I see you are a sly fellow," Pen said, delig