mery) knows
nobody. What is his name? Gregory, what is the name of the gentleman
I dine with so often? the gentleman I send to when I have no other
engagement, and he always gives me a dinner, but who never dines with
me. He is only rich, and I hate people who are only rich; but I must ask
him next year. I ask him to my evening parties, mind; I don't care
about them; but I will not have stupid people, who are only rich, at my
dinners. Gregory, what is his name?'

'Mr. Million de Stockville, my lady.'

'Yes, that is the man, good Gregory. You have no deer, have you?'
enquired her ladyship of Mr. Temple. 'I thought not. I wish you had
deer. You should send a haunch in my name to Mr. Million de Stockville,
and that would be as good as a dinner to him. If your neighbour, the
duke, had received me, I should have sent it from thence. I will tell
you what I will do; I will write a note from this place to the duke, and
get him to do it for me. He will do anything for me. He loves me, the
duke, and I love him; but his wife hates me.'

'And you have had a gay season in town this year, Lady Bellair?'
enquired Miss Temple. 'My dear, I always have a gay season.' 'What
happiness!' softly exclaimed Mrs. Montgomery Floyd. 'I think nothing is
more delightful than gaiety.'

'And how is our friend Mr. Bonmot this year?' said Mr. Temple.

'My dear, Bonmot is growing very old. He tells the same stories over
again, and therefore I never see him. I cannot bear wits that have run
to seed: I cannot ask Bonmot to my dinners, and I told him the reason
why; but I said I was at home every morning from two till six, and that
he might come then, for he does not go out to evening parties, and he is
huffy, and so we have quarrelled.'

'Poor Mr. Bonmot,' said Miss Temple.

'My dear, there is the most wonderful man in the world, I forget his
name, but everybody is mad to have him. He is quite the fashion. I have
him to my parties instead of Bonmot, and it is much better. Everybody
has Bonmot; but my man is new, and I love something new. Lady Frederick
Berrington brought him to me. Do you know Lady Frederick Berrington?
Oh! I forgot, poor dear, you are buried alive in the country; I must
introduce you to Lady Frederick. She is charming, she will taste you,
she will be your friend; and you cannot have a better friend, my dear,
for she is very pretty, very witty, and has got blood in her veins. I
won't introduce you to Lady Frederick,' continued Lad