holding in his own compensated for its rudeness,
and his "Good-bye!" was uttered in all frankness and cordiality.

CHAPTER XIV. A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT'S

To all you gentlemen who live at home at ease there are few things less
troublesome than the arrangement of what is called a dinner-party.
Some difficulty may possibly exist as to the guests. Lady Mary may be
indisposed. It might not be quite right to ask Sir Harry to meet the
Headleys. A stray embarrassment or two will arise to require a little
thought or a little management The material details, however, give no
care. There is a stereotyped mode of feeding one's friends, out of which
it is not necessary, were it even possible, to issue. Your mock-turtle
may have a little more or less the flavor of Madeira; your salmon be
somewhat thicker in the shoulder; your sirloin be a shade more or less
underdone; your side dishes a little more or less uneatable than your
neighbor's; but, after all, from the caviare to the cheese, the
whole thing follows an easy routine, and the dinner of No. 12 is the
fac-simile of the dinner at No. 13; and the same silky voice that
whispers "Sherry, sir?" has its echo along the whole street The same
toned-down uniformity pervades the intellectual elements of the feast;
all is quiet, jogtrot, and habitual; a gentle atmosphere of murmuring
dulness is diffused around, very favorable to digestion, and rather
disposing to sleep.

How different are all these things in the case of the poor man,
especially when he happens to be a reduced gentleman, whose memories of
the past are struggling and warring with exigencies of the present and
the very commonest necessities are matters of grave difficulty.

Kellett was very anxious to impress his son's friend with a sense of his
social standing and importance, and he told Bella "not to mind spending
the whole week's allowance, just to show the soldier what Jack's family
was." A leg of mutton and a little of Kinnahan's port constituted, in
his mind, a very high order of entertainment; and these were at once
voted. Bella hoped that after the first outburst of this ostentatious
fit he would fall back in perfect indifference about the whole matter;
but far from it,--his waking thought in the morning was the dinner; and
when she remarked to him at breakfast on the threatening aspect of the
clouds, his reply was, "No matter, dear, if we have plenty of capers."
Even the unhappy possibility of Beecher's "dr