of much greater
consequence, which is fashionable existence. Let them once lose caste in
that respect, and they are virtually dead, and one mistake, one
oversight, is a death-blow for which there is no remedy, and from which
there is no recovery. For instance, we will suppose our heroine to be
quite confounded with the appearance of our hero--to have become
_distraite, reveuse_--and, in short, to have lost her recollection and
presence of mind. She has been assisted to _fillet de soles_. Say that
the only sauce ever taken with them is _au macedoine_--this is offered
to her, and, at the same time, another, which to eat with the above dish
would be unheard of. In her distraction she is about to take the wrong
sauce--actually at the point of ruining herself for ever and committing
suicide upon her fashionable existence, while the keen grey eyes of Sir
Antinous Antibes, the arbiter of fashion, are fixed upon her. At this
awful moment, which is for ever to terminate her fashionable existence,
the Honourable Augustus Bouverie, who sits next to her, gently touches
her _seduisante_ sleeve--blandly smiling, he whispers to her that the
_other_ is the sauce _macedoine_. She perceives her mistake, trembles at
her danger, rewards him with a smile, which penetrates into the deepest
recesses of his heart, helps herself to the right sauce, darts a look of
contemptuous triumph upon Sir Antinous Antibes, and, while she is
dipping her sole into the sauce, her soul expands with gratitude and
love.

_A._ I see, I see. Many thanks; my heroine is now a fair counterpart of
my hero.

"Ah, sure a pair were never seen,
So justly form'd to meet by nature."

_B._ And now I'll give you another hint, since you appear grateful. It
is a species of claptrap in a novel, which always takes--to wit, a rich
old uncle or misanthrope, who, at the very time that he is bitterly
offended and disgusted with the hero, who is in awkward circumstances,
pulls out a pocket-book and counts down, say fifteen or twenty thousand
pounds in bank notes, to relieve him from his difficulties. An old coat
and monosyllables will increase the interest.

_A._ True (_sighing._) Alas! there are no such uncles in real life; I
wish there were.

_B._ I beg your pardon; I know no time in which _my uncle_ forks out
more bank notes than at the present.

_A._ Yes, but it is for value, or more than value, received.

_B._ That I grant; but I'm afraid it is the only _uncle_