an's address, a softness in his tones, and an unstudied and
extremely interesting delicacy in his manner, which in this society was
remarkable. Tom Cogit never presumed to come near the young Duke, but
paid him constant attention. He sat at the bottom of the table, and
was ever sending a servant with some choice wine, or recommending him,
through some third person, some choice dish. It is pleasant to be 'made
much of,' as Shakspeare says, even by scoundrels. To be king of your
company is a poor ambition, yet homage is homage, and smoke is smoke,
whether it come out of the chimney of a palace or of a workhouse.

The banquet was not hurried. Though all wished it finished, no one liked
to appear urgent. It was over at last, and they walked up-stairs, where
the tables were arranged for all parties, and all play. Tom Cogit went
up a few minutes before them, like the lady of the mansion, to review
the lights, and arrange the cards. Feminine Tom Cogit!

The events of to-night were much the same as of the preceding one. The
Duke was a loser, but his losses were not considerable. He retired about
the same hour, with a head not so hot, or heavy: and he never looked
at the moon, or thought of May Dacre. The only wish that reigned in his
soul was a longing for another opportunity, and he had agreed to dine
with the Baron, before he left Brunswick Terrace.

Thus passed a week, one night the Duke of St. James redeeming himself,
another falling back to his old position, now pushing on to Madrid, now
re-crossing the Tagus. On the whole, he had lost four or five thousand
pounds, a mere trifle to what, as he had heard, had been lost and gained
by many of his companions during only the present season. On the whole,
he was one of the most moderate of these speculators, generally played
at the large table, and never joined any of those private coteries, some
of which he had observed, and of some of which he had heard. Yet this
was from no prudential resolve or temperate resolution. The young Duke
was heartily tired of the slight results of all his anxiety, hopes, and
plans, and ardently wished for some opportunity of coming to closer and
more decided action. The Baron also had resolved that an end should
be put to this skirmishing; but he was a calm head, and never hurried
anything.

'I hope your Grace has been lucky to-night!' said the Baron one evening,
strolling up to the Duke: 'as for myself, really, if Dice goes on
playing, I shall