a young man of fortune, and how I was deserted and
neglected when I was cleaned out. I know now _why_ they are so civil
to me, and I value their civility at just as much as it is worth. Will
you accept my arm:--I am going your way"

I could not refuse; but I coloured when I took it, for I felt that I
was not adding to my reputation by being seen in his company; and still
I felt, that although not adding to my reputation, I was less likely to
receive insult, and that the same cause which induced them to be civil
to him, would perhaps operate when they found me allied with him. "Be
it so," thought I, "I will, if possible, _extort_ politeness."

We were strolling down Bond Street, when we met a young man, well known
in the fashionable circles, who had dropped my acquaintance, after
having been formerly most pressing to obtain it. Atkinson faced him.
"Good morning, Mr Oxberry."

"Good morning, Captain Atkinson," replied Mr Oxberry.

"I thought you knew my friend Mr Newland?" observed Atkinson, rather
fiercely.

"Oh! really--I quite--I beg pardon. Good morning, Mr Newland; you have
been long absent. I did not see you at Lady Maelstrom's last night."

"No," replied I, carelessly, "nor will you ever. When you next see her
ladyship, ask her, with my compliments, whether she has had another
fainting fit."

"I shall certainly have great pleasure in carrying your message, Mr
Newland--good morning."

"That fool," observed Atkinson, "will now run all over town, and you will
see the consequence."

We met one or two others, and to them Atkinson put the same question, "I
thought you knew my friend Mr Newland?" At last, just as we arrived at
my own house in St James's Street, who should we meet but Harcourt.
Harcourt immediately perceived me, and bowed low as he passed on, so
that his bow would have served for both; but Atkinson stopped. "I must
beg your pardon, Harcourt, for detaining you a moment, but what are the
odds upon the Vestris colt for the Derby?"

"Upon my word, Captain Atkinson, I was told, but I have forgotten."

"Your memory appears bad, for you have also forgotten your old friend,
Mr Newland."

"I beg your pardon, Mr Newland."

"There is no occasion to beg my pardon, Mr Harcourt," interrupted I;
"for I tell you plainly, that I despise you too much to ever wish to be
acquainted with you. You will oblige me, sir, by never presuming to touch
your hat, or otherwise notice me."

Harcourt coloured, and start