T. has asserted."

So much for one event, and in itself a trivial one! Who shall say that
any act of his life is capable of exciting even an approach to unanimous
praise or censure? This speech, which on one side won me the adhesion
of some half-dozen clubs, the praise of a large body of the Upper House,
the softest words that the "beauty of the season" condescended to utter,
brought me, on the other, the coldness of the Minister, the chilling
civility of mock admiration, and lost me the friendship--in House of
Commons parlance--of the leading member of the Government!

And here is a strange, square-shaped epistle, signed in the corner,
"Martin Haverstock." This rough-looking note was my first step in
Diplomacy! I was a very young _attache_ to the mission at Florence,
when, on returning to England through Milan, I was robbed of my trunk,
and with it of all the money I possessed for my journey. It was taken by
a process very well known in Italy, being cut off from the back of the
carriage, not improbably, with the concurrence of the driver. However
that might be, I arrived at the "Angelo d'Oro" without a sou. Having
ordered a room, I sat down by myself, hungry and penniless, not having
a single acquaintance at Milan, nor the slightest idea how to act in the
emergency. My very passport was gone, so that I had actually nothing to
authenticate my position--not even my name.

I sent for the landlord, who, after a very cold interview, referred me
to the Consul; but the Consul had on that very morning left the city
for Verona, so that his aid was cut off. My last resource--my only one,
indeed--was to write to Florence for money, and wait for the answer.
This was a delay of seven, possibly of eight, days, but it was
unavoidable.

This done, I ordered supper--a very humble one too, and befitting the
condition of one who had not wherewithal to pay for it. I remember still
the sense of shame I felt as the waiter, on entering, looked around for
my luggage, and saw neither trunk nor carpet-bag--not even a hat-box. I
thought--nay, there could be no mistake about it, it was quite clear--he
laid the table with a certain air of careless and noisy indifference
that bespoke his contempt. The very bang of the door as he went out, was
a whole narrative of my purseless state.

I had been very hungry when I ordered the meal. I had not tasted food
for several hours, and yet now I could not eat a morsel; chagrin and
shame had routed all ap