r. But this is
important enough to commence a new chapter.

CHAPTER X.

_A New Star Rises_

WILLIAM HENRY, MARQUESS OF MARYLEBONE, completed his twenty-first year:
an event which created a greater sensation among the aristocracy of
England, even, than the majority of George Augustus Frederick, Duke
of St. James. The rent-roll of his Grace was great: but that of his
Lordship was incalculable. He had not indeed so many castles as our
hero; but then, in the metropolis, a whole parish owned him as Lord,
and it was whispered that, when a few miles of leases fell in, the very
Civil List must give him the wall. Even in the duration of his minority,
he had the superiority over the young Duke, for the Marquess was a
posthumous son.

Lord Marylebone was a short, thick, swarthy young gentleman, with
wiry black hair, a nose somewhat flat, sharp eyes, and tusky mouth;
altogether not very unlike a terrier. His tastes were unknown: he had
not travelled, nor done anything very particular, except, with a
few congenial spirits, beat the Guards in a rowing-match, a
pretty diversion, and almost as conducive to a small white hand as
almond-paste.

But his Lordship was now of age, and might be seen every day at a
certain hour rattling up Bond Street in a red drag, in which he drove
four or five particular friends who lived at Stevens' Hotel, and
therefore, we suppose, were the partners of his glory in his victory
over his Majesty's household troops. Lord Marylebone was the universal
subject of conversation. Pursuits which would have devoted a shabby Earl
of twelve or fifteen thousand a year to universal reprobation, or, what
is much worse, to universal sneers, assumed quite a different character
when they constituted the course of life of this fortunate youth. He
was a delightful young man. So unaffected! No super-refinement, no false
delicacy. Everyone, each sex, everything, extended his, her, or its hand
to this cub, who, quite puzzled, but too brutal to be confused, kept
driving on the red van, and each day perpetrating some new act
of profligacy, some new instance of coarse profusion, tasteless
extravagance, and inelegant eccentricity.

But, nevertheless, he was the hero of the town. He was the great point
of interest in 'The Universe,' and 'The New World' favoured the old one
with weekly articles on his character and conduct. The young Duke
was quite forgotten, if really young he could be longer called. Lord
Marylebo