dyship.

'Mr. Sponge, my lady,' said he in as low and deferential a tone as if he
got his wages punctually every quarter-day.

'How do you do. Mr. Sponge?' said her ladyship, tendering him her hand with
an elegant curtsey.

'How are you, Mr. (hiccup) Sponge?' asked Sir Harry, offering his; 'I
believe you know the (hiccup) company?' continued he, waving his hand
around; 'Miss (hiccup) Glitters, Captain (hiccup) Quod, Captain Bouncey,
Mr. (hiccup) Bugles, Captain (hiccup) Seedeybuck, and so on'; whereupon
Miss Glitters curtsied, the gentlemen bobbed their heads and drew near our
hero, who had now stationed himself before the fire.

'Coldish to-night,' said he, stooping, and placing both hands to the bars.
'Coldish,' repeated he, rubbing his hands and looking around.

[Illustration]

'It generally is about this time of year, I think,' observed Miss Glitters,
who was quite ready to enter for our friend.

'Hope it won't stop hunting,' said Mr. Sponge.

'Hope not,' replied Sir Harry; 'would be a bore if it did.'

'I wonder you gentlemen don't prefer hunting in a frost,' observed Miss
Howard; 'one would think it would be just the time you'd want a good
warming.'

'I don't agree with you, there,' replied Mr. Sponge, looking at her, and
thinking she was not nearly so pretty as Miss Glitters.

'Do you hunt to-morrow?' asked he of Sir Harry, not having been able to
obtain any information at the stables.

'(Hiccup) to-morrow? Oh, I dare say we shall,' replied Sir Harry, who kept
his hounds as he did his carriages, to be used when wanted. 'Dare say we
shall,' repeated he.

But though Sir Harry spoke thus encouragingly of their prospects, he took
no steps, as far as Mr. Sponge could learn, to carry out the design.
Indeed, the subject of hunting was never once mentioned, the conversation
after dinner, instead of being about the Quorn, or the Pytchley, or Jack
Thompson with the Atherstone, turning upon the elegance and lighting of the
Casinos in the Adelaide Gallery and Windmill Street, and the relative
merits of those establishments over the Casino de Venise in High Holborn.
Nor did morning produce any change for the better, for Sir Harry and all
the captains came down in their usual flashy broken-down player-looking
attire, their whole thoughts being absorbed in arranging for a pool at
billiards, in which the ladies took part. So with billiards, brandy, and
''baccy,'--''baccy,' brandy, and billiards, varied with an occ