ide. This is the way to manage a woman; and
the result may be conceived. She stares, she starts, she sighs, she
weeps; feels highly offended at her friend daring to accept him; writes
a letter of rejection herself to the affianced damsel, which she makes
him sign, and then presents him with the hand which she always meant to
be his.

But this was above our hero. The truth is, whenever he thought of May
Dacre his spirit sank. She had cowed him; and her arrival in London had
made him as dissatisfied with his present mode of life as he had been
with his former career. They had met again, and under circumstances
apparently, to him, the most unfavourable. Although he was hopeless, yet
he dreaded to think what she might hear of him. Her contempt was bitter;
her dislike would even be worse. Yet it seemed impossible to retrieve.
He was plunged deeper than he imagined. Embarrassed, entangled,
involved, he flew to Lady Afy, half in pique and half in misery. Passion
had ceased to throw a glittering veil around this idol; but she was
kind, and pure, and gentle, and devoted. It was consoling to be loved to
one who was so wretched. It seemed to him that life must ever be a blank
without the woman who, a few months ago, he had left an encumbrance. The
recollection of past happiness was balm to one who was so forlorn. He
shuddered at the thought of losing his only precious possession, and he
was never more attached to his mistress than when the soul of friendship
rose from the body of expired love.

CHAPTER VIII.

_An Epicurean Feast_

THE Duke of St. James dines to-day with Mr. Annesley. Men and things
should be our study; and it is universally acknowledged that a dinner
is the most important of affairs, and a dandy the most important of
individuals. If we liked, we could give you a description of the fete
which should make all your mouths water; but everyone cooks now, and
ekes out his page by robbing Jarrin and by rifling Ude.

Charles Annesley was never seen to more advantage than when a host. Then
his superciliousness would, if not vanish, at least subside. He was not
less calm, but somewhat less cold, like a summer lake. Therefore we will
have an eye upon his party; because, to dine with dandies should be a
prominent feature in your career, and must not be omitted in this sketch
of the 'Life and Times' of our young hero. The party was of that
number which at once secures a variety of conversation and the
impossib