th which he trimmed
his shillings at the Augustine taverns. Thrift is a word abused, and
serves too often as a mask for avarice.

As I sat there fashioning wise saws and proverbs in my busy mind, the
hall door opened and the first guest was announced--Sir George Covert.

And in he came, a well-built, lazy gentleman of forty, swinging
gracefully on a pair o' legs no man need take shame in; ruffles on cuff
and stock, hair perfumed, powdered, and rolled twice in French puffs,
and on his hand a brilliant that sparkled purest fire. Under one arm he
bore his gold-edged hat, and as he strolled forward, peering coolly
about him through his quizzing glass, I thought I had never seen such
graceful assurance, nor such insolently handsome eyes, marred by the
faint shadows of dissipation.

Sir Lupus nodded a welcome and blew a great cloud of smoke into the air.

"Ah," observed Sir George, languidly, "Vesuvius in irruption?"

"How de do," said Sir Lupus, suspiciously.

"The mountain welcomes Mohammed," commented Sir George. "Mohammed
greets the mountain! How de do, Sir Lupus! Ah!" He turned gracefully
towards me, bowing. "Pray present me, Sir Lupus."

"My cousin, George Ormond," said Sir Lupus. "George first, George
second," he added, with a sneer.

"No relation to George III., I trust, sir?" inquired Sir George,
anxiously, offering his cool, well-kept hand.

"No," said I, laughing at his serious countenance and returning his
clasp firmly.

"That's well, that's well," murmured Sir George, apparently vastly
relieved, and invited me to take snuff with him.

We had scarcely exchanged a civil word or two ere the servant announced
Captain Walter Butler, and I turned curiously, to see a dark, graceful
young man enter and stand for a moment staring haughtily straight at me.
He wore a very elegant black-and-orange uniform, without gorget; a black
military cloak hung from his shoulders, caught up in his sword-knot.

With a quick movement he raised his hand and removed his officer's hat,
and I saw on his gauntlets of fine doeskin the Ormond arms, heavily
embroidered. Instantly the affectation displeased me.

"Come to the mountain, brother prophet," said Sir George, waving his
hand towards the seated patroon. He came, lightly as a panther, his
dark, well-cut features softening a trifle; and I thought him handsome
in his uniform, wearing his own dark hair unpowdered, tied in a short
queue; but when he turned full face to greet Sir