r seeing Mrs. Chuff, his mother-in-law, had a taste for the
genteel--(indeed, her talk was all about Lord Collingwood, Lord Gambier,
Sir Jahaleel Brenton, and the Gosport and Plymouth balls)--Wagley and I,
according to our wont, trumped her conversation, and talked about
Lords, Dukes, Marquises, and Baronets, as if those dignitaries were our
familiar friends.

'Lord Sextonbury,' says I, 'seems to have recovered her ladyship's
death. He and the Duke were very jolly over their wine at the
"Sarcophagus" last night; weren't they, Wagley?'

'Good fellow, the Duke,' Wagley replied. 'Pray, ma'am' (to Mrs. Chuff),
'you who know the world and etiquette, will you tell me what a man ought
to do in my case? Last June, his Grace, his son Lord Castlerampant,
Tom Smith, and myself were dining at the Club, when I offered the odds
against DADDYLONGLEGS for the Derby--forty to one, in sovereigns only.
His Grace took the bet, and of course I won. He has never paid me. Now,
can I ask such a great man for a sovereign?--One more lump of sugar, if
you please, my dear madam.'

It was lucky Wagley gave her this opportunity to elude the question,
for it prostrated the whole worthy family among whom we were. They
telegraphed each other with wondering eyes. Mrs. Chuff's stories about
the naval nobility grew quite faint and kind little Mrs. Sackville
became uneasy, and went upstairs to look at the children--not at
that young monster, Nelson Collingwood, who was sleeping off the
whisky-and-water--but at a couple of little ones who had made their
appearance at dessert, and of whom she and Sackville were the happy
parents.

The end of this and subsequent meetings with Mr. Maine was, that we
proposed and got him elected as a member of the 'Sarcophagus Club.'

It was not done without a deal of opposition--the secret having been
whispered that the candidate was a coal-merchant. You may be sure some
of the proud people and most of the parvenus of the Club were ready
to blackball him. We combated this opposition successfully, however.
We pointed out to the parvenus that the Lambtons and the Stuarts sold
coals: we mollified the proud by accounts of his good birth, good
nature, and good behaviour; and Wagley went about on the day of
election, describing with great eloquence, the action between the
'Pitchfork' and the 'Furibonde,' and the valour of Captain Maine, our
friend's father. There was a slight mistake in the narrative; but we
carried our man, w