ched Henchman. My lord was not in
his own house as yet. He and his friends still lingered on in the little
house in Mayfair, the dear little bachelor's quarters, where they had
enjoyed such good dinners, such good suppers, such rare doings, such
a jolly time. I fancy Hench coming down to breakfast, and reading the
Morning Post. I imagine Tod dropping in from his bedroom over the way,
and Hench handing the paper over to Tod, and the conversation which
ensued between those worthy men. Elopement in high life--excitement
in N--come, and flight of Lady Cl-- N--come, daughter of the late and
sister of the present Earl of D-rking, with Lord H---gate; personal
rencontre between Lord H---gate and Sir B--nes N---come. Extraordinary
disclosures. I say, I can fancy Hench and Tod over this awful piece of
news.

"Pretty news, ain't it, Toddy?" says Henchman, looking up from a
Perigord-pie, which the faithful creature is discussing.

"Always expected it," remarks the other. "Anybody who saw them together
last season must have known it. The Chief himself spoke of it to me."

"It'll cut him up awfully when he reads it. Is it in the Morning Post?
He has the Post in his bedroom. I know he has rung his bell: I heard it.
Bowman, has his lordship read his paper yet?"

Bowman, the valet, said, "I believe you, he have read his paper. When
he read it, he jumped out of bed and swore most awful. I cut as soon as
I could," continued Mr. Bowman, who was on familiar--nay contemptuous
terms with the other two gentlemen.

"Enough to make any man swear," says Toddy to Henchman; and both were
alarmed in their noble souls, reflecting that their chieftain was now
actually getting up and dressing himself; that he would speedily, and in
course of nature, come downstairs; and, then, most probably, would begin
swearing at them.

The most noble Mungo Malcolm Angus was in an awful state of mind when,
at length, he appeared in the breakfast-room. "Why the dash do you make
a taproom of this?" he cries. The trembling Henchman, who has begun
to smoke--as he has done a hundred times before in this bachelor's
hall--flings his cigar into the fire.

"There you go--nothing like it! Why don't you fling some more in?
You can get 'em at Hudson's for five guineas a pound." bursts out the
youthful peer.

"I understand why you are out of sorts, old boy," says Henchman,
stretching out his manly hand. A tear of compassion twinkled in his
eyelid, and coursed down his m