gentlemen,--ah! there they are!" and he pointed the earl's scrutinizing
attention to the elegant forms of Mr. Augustus Tomlinson and Mr. Ned
Pepper, just emerging from the card-rooms. The swagger of the latter
gentleman was so peculiarly important that Mauleverer, angry as he was,
could scarcely help laughing. The master of the ceremonies noted the
earl's countenance, and remarked that "that fine-looking man seemed
disposed to give himself airs."

"Judging from the gentleman's appearance," said the earl, dryly (Ned's
face, to say truth, did betoken his affection for the bottle), "I
should imagine that he was much more accustomed to give himself thorough
draughts!"

"Ah!" renewed the arbiter elegantiarum, who had not heard Mauleverer's
observation, which was uttered in a very low voice,--"ah! they seem real
dashers!"

"Dashers!" repeated Mauleverer; "true, haberdashers!" Long Ned now,
having in the way of his profession acquitted himself tolerably well
at the card-table, thought he had purchased the right to parade himself
through the rooms, and show the ladies what stuff a Pepper could be made
of.

Leaning with his left hand on Tomlinson's arm, and employing the right
in fanning himself furiously with his huge chapeau bras, the lengthy
adventurer stalked slowly along, now setting out one leg jauntily, now
the other, and ogling "the ladies" with a kind of Irish look,--namely, a
look between a wink and a stare.

Released from the presence of Clifford, who kept a certain check on
his companions, the apparition of Ned became glaringly conspicuous; and
wherever he passed, a universal whisper succeeded.

"Who can he be?" said the widow Matemore. "'T is a droll creature; but
what a head of hair!"

"For my part," answered the spinster Sneerall, "I think he is a
linen-draper in disguise; for I heard him talk to his companion of
'tape.'"

"Well, well," thought Mauleverer, "it would be but kind to seek out
Brandon, and hint to him in what company his niece seems to have
fallen!" And so thinking, he glided to the corner where, with a
gray-headed old politician, the astute lawyer was conning the affairs of
Europe.

In the interim the second dance had ended, and Clifford was conducting
Lucy to her seat, each charmed with the other, when he found himself
abruptly tapped on the back, and turning round in alarm,--for such taps
were not unfamiliar to him,--he saw the cool countenance of Long Ned,
with one finger sagaciously