we change! Already
the Duke of St. James began to think of pounds, shillings, and pence. A
year ago, so long as he could extricate himself from a scrape by force
of cash, he thought himself a lucky fellow.

The Graftons had not arrived, but were daily expected. He really could
not stand them. As for Lady Afy, he execrated the greenhornism which had
made him feign a passion, and then get caught where he meant to capture.
As for Sir Lucius, he wished to Heaven he would just take it into
his head to repay him the fifteen thousand he had lent him at that
confounded election, to say nothing of anything else.

Then there was Burlington, with his old loves and his new dances. He
wondered how the deuce that fellow could be amused with such frivolity,
and always look so serene and calm. Then there was Squib: that man never
knew when to leave off joking; and Annesley, with his false refinement;
and Darrell, with his petty ambition. He felt quite sick, and took a
solitary ride: but he flew from Scylla to Charybdis. Mrs. Montfort could
not forget their many delightful canters last season to Rottingdean,
and, lo! she was at his side. He wished her down the cliff.

In this fit of the spleen he went to the theatre: there were eleven
people in the boxes. He listened to the 'School for Scandal.' Never
was slander more harmless. He sat it all out, and was sorry when it was
over, but was consoled by the devils of 'Der Freischutz.' How sincerely,
how ardently did he long to sell himself to the demon! It was eleven
o'clock, and he dreaded the play to be over as if he were a child. What
to do with himself, or where to go, he was equally at a loss. The
door of the box opened, and entered Lord Bagshot. If it must be an
acquaintance, this cub was better than any of his refined and lately
cherished companions.

'Well, Bag, what are you doing with yourself?'

'Oh! I don't know; just looking in for a lark. Any game?'

'On my honour, I can't say.'

'What's that girl? Oh! I see; that's little Wilkins. There's Moll Otway.
Nothing new. I shall go and rattle the bones a little; eh! my boy?'

'Rattle the bones? what is that?'

'Don't you know?' and here this promising young peer manually explained
his meaning.

'What do you play at?' asked the Duke.

'Hazard, for my money; but what you like.'

'Where?'

'We meet at De Berghem's. There is a jolly set of us. All crack men.
When my governor is here, I never go. He is so jealous. I suppose