t Arthur Fletcher had gone to Silverbridge, had stood
for the borough, and had taken the seat away from his rival,--because
that rival had robbed him of his bride. How the robbery had been
effected the world could not quite say. The world was still of
opinion that the lady was violently attached to the man she had
not married. But Captain Gunner explained it all clearly to Major
Pountney by asserting that the poor girl had been coerced into the
marriage by her father. And thus Arthur Fletcher found himself almost
as much a hero in London as at Longbarns.

Fletcher had not been above a week in town, and had become heartily
sick of the rumours which in various shapes made their way round to
his own ears, when he received an invitation from Mr. Wharton to
go and dine with him at a tavern called the Jolly Blackbird. The
invitation surprised him,--that he should be asked by such a man
to dine at such a place,--but he accepted it as a matter of course.
He was indeed much interested in a Bill for the drainage of common
lands which was to be discussed in the House that night; there was
a good deal of common land round Silverbridge, and he had some idea
of making his first speech,--but he calculated that he might get his
dinner and yet be back in time for the debate. So he went to the
Jolly Blackbird,--a very quaint, old-fashioned law dining-house in
the neighbourhood of Portugal Street, which had managed not to get
itself pulled down a dozen years ago on behalf of the Law Courts
which are to bless some coming generation. Arthur had never been
there before and was surprised at the black wainscoting, the black
tables, the old-fashioned grate, the two candles on the table, and
the silent waiter. "I wanted to see you, Arthur," said the old man,
pressing his hand in a melancholy way, "but I couldn't ask you to
Manchester Square. They come in sometimes in the evening, and it
might have been unpleasant. At your young men's clubs they let
strangers dine. We haven't anything of that kind at the Eldon. You'll
find they'll give you a very good bit of fish here, and a fairish
steak." Arthur declared that he thought it a capital place,--the best
fun in the world. "And they've a very good bottle of claret;--better
than we get at the Eldon, I think. I don't know that I can say much
for their champagne. We'll try it. You young fellows always drink
champagne."

"I hardly ever touch it," said Arthur. "Sherry and claret are my
wines."

"Very