escritoire, and a regret that it could not be stereotyped to
make its progress round the world. And yet, as it appeared that the lady
had thrown the glove at him, and even lent him her miniature, it would
be difficult to discover any ground for her wrath or his compunction.
Both were evidently equally imaginary.

The Beau always regarded the city as a _terra incognita_. A merchant
once asked him to dine there. Brummell gave him a look of intense
enquiry. The merchant pressed him. "Well," said the Beau, (who probably
had excellent reasons for non-resistance to the man of money;) "well, if
it _must_ be--but you must first promise faithfully _never_ to say a
word on the subject."

A visitor, full of the importance of a tour in the north of England,
asked him which of the lakes he preferred. "I can't possibly remember,"
was the reply; "they are a great way from St James's Street, and I don't
think they are spoken of in the clubs." The visitor urged the question.
"Robinson," said the Beau, turning in obvious distress to his valet,
"Robinson, pray tell this gentleman which of the lakes I
preferred."--"Windermere, sir, I think it was," said the valet. "Well,"
added Brummell, "probably you are in the right, Robinson. It may have
been. Pray, sir, will Windermere do?"

"I wonder, Brummell, you take the trouble of driving to the barracks of
the 10th with four horses. It certainly looks rather superb," said one
of the officers. "Why, I dare say it does; but that is not _the_ point.
What could I do, when my French valet, the best dresser of hair in the
universe, gave me warning that he must leave me to myself, unless I gave
up the vulgarity of posting with _two_?"

We come, in the course of this goodly history, to the second great event
of the Beau's life--the first being his introduction to Carlton House.
The second was his being turned out of it. Brummell always denied, and
with some indignation, the story of "Wales, ring the bell!"--a version
which he justly declared to be "positively vulgar," and therefore, with
due respect for his own sense of elegance, absolutely impossible for
_him_. He gave the more rational explanation, that he had taken the part
of lady who was presumed to be the rival of Mrs Fitzherbert, and had
been rash enough even to make some remarks on Mrs Fitzherbert's _en bon
point_, a matter of course never to be forgiven by a belle. This
extended to a "declining love" between him and the Prince, whose foible