ear; not having taken the precaution, as some Cambridge men did at
B---- one vacation, to bespeak a French cook at a rather higher salary
than the mathematical tutor's.)[A] Probably, however, Mr Plympton's
unusual walk made him more anxious about the quantity than the quality
of his diet, for he not only attacked the mutton like an Etonian, but
announced his intention of staying with us over the ball, if a bed was
to be had, and sending to B---- for his decorations. He was introduced
in due form to the Phillipses the next day, and in the number and
elegance of his bows, almost eclipsed Mr Sydney Dawson, whom Clara never
ceased to recommend to her brothers as an example of politeness.

[Footnote A: Fact.]

Bright dawned the morning of the 20th of August, the first of the "three
glorious days" of Glyndewi. As people came to these races really for
amusement, the breakfast was fixed for the very unfashionable hour of
ten, in order not to interfere with the main business of the day--the
regatta. Before half-past, the tables at the Mynysnewydd Arms were
filled with what the _----shire Herald_ termed "a galaxy of beauty and
fashion." But every one seemed well aware that there were far more
substantial attractions present, meant to fill not the tables only, but
the guests. The breakfast was by no means a matter of form. People had
evidently come with more serious intentions than merely to display new
bonnets, and trifle with grapes and peaches. Sea-air gives a whet to
even a lady's appetite, and if the performances that morning were any
criterion of the effects of that of Glyndewi, the new Poor Law
Commissioners, in forming their scale of allowances, must really have
reported it a "special case." The fair Cambrians, in short, played
very respectable knives and forks--made no bones--or rather nothing
but bones--of the chickens, and ate kippered salmon like Catholics.
You caught a bright eye gazing in your direction with evident
interest--"Would you have the kindness to cut that pasty before you
for a lady?" You almost overheard a tender whisper from the gentleman
opposite to the pretty girl beside him. She blushes and gently
remonstrates. Again his lip almost touches her cheek in earnest
persuasion--yes! she is consenting--to another _little_ slice of
ham! As for the jolly Welsh squires themselves, and their strapping
heirs-apparent (you remember that six-foot-four man surely, number
six of the Jesus boat)--now that the ladies