ing occupation of talking about themselves.

Had they been more observant they might have noticed another carriage, which passed them as they stood waiting at the Corner and kept along the Knightsbridge Road. The vehicle, an open barouche, was one which might well have arrested their attention, for it was very showy and shiny, was drawn by a pair of horses which were at once showy and shiny also, and contained a gentleman who was perhaps more shiny and showy than either.

The gentleman was inclined to be stout as to figure and five-and-forty as to age; had a happy Saxon face, the picture of prosperous goodhumour, and bare with the exception of a straw-coloured moustache, wonderfully waxed. He wore a hat so new that you expected to see the hatter's box on the seat beside him: a gorgeous satin cravat like a folded slab, adorned with an enormous diamond; a velvet waistcoat, on which reposed a massive watch chain, connected somehow with three different pockets, suggesting unusual resources on the part of the wearer for learning the time of day,' and borne down with pendant treasures like the fruit-trees which grew jewels in the Arabian tale; a coat with rather more velvet on the collar and cuffs than it could conveniently accommodate; pantaloons similarly embarrassed as regarded the stripes down the seams; and boots and gloves which may be best described, in professional phrase, as 'defying competition.'

If horses, carriage, and costume can confer happiness, the gentleman in question must have been happy indeed. There was certainly a primâ facie case in his favour. Let me look into the facts.

He was the proprietor and manager of the new Imperial Theatre -a grand speculation which had just taken the town by storm and promised to hold that capital in defiance of all comers. This happy edifice had stage resources such as were never known before. Every piece produced was a model of mounting, besides being a marvel of

dramatic art; and had the plays been bad, they were acted so well that you would never have found out their faults. Of the front of the house nothing more laudatory could be urged than the assurance that it was worthy of the back. Mirrors, gilding, and pictures, asserting separate charms, contributed to a harmonious whole; and the Sybarite who sought relief from these attractions found it in soft drapery of satin and lace. Every seat was a sofa and every occupant of every seat was a somebody, more or less. The private boxes were let only to the peerage, and nobody under the rank of a baronet was admitted to the stalls. The pit people were expected to give hostages to society in the form of white cravats, and pledges as to the use of the letter H. Even the 'gods' were made to conduct themselves like respectable mortals, and apples and oranges and ginger beer were prohibited by protective duties imposed upon the police. Such at least was the design of the undertaking, and if it was not strictly carried out the blame was scarcely due to the management, but rather to a perverse public, which has a bad habit of doing as it likes.

The magnificent equipage holding the equally magnificent managersubject to the common law which governs common conveyances--after passing Knightsbridge found itself at Brompton; and there, at a certain house in Brompton Row, it came to a stop with an effect which made an imposing appearance to passers by, and was not without an influence upon neighbouring windows. Nothing indeed in the coachman's driving became him more than his mode of drawing up; and the horses, entering into the artistic spirit of their guide, met tho broad distinction between a state of progression and a state of repose, by a gratifying compromise suggestive of blood and oats.

If any subsequent proceeding could equal the triumphant manner of the arrival, perhaps it was the mode in which the door knocker was dealt with-as concurrently as human agility would permit-by a

footman whose haughty stature and evident strength announced no ordinary fitness for his functions. A small boy on the pavement asked him if he wanted to knock the door down-but the remark was ribald, and was very properly received by the addressee in a different spirit from that which would have been accorded to a bona fide desire for information. With something of the insolence of office, and something more of the pride of place, he told the precocious disrespecter of persons to get away with him, and in an arbitrary mood into which the habit of official dignity sometimes betrays the wisest men, muttered an ineffectual threat concerning a policeman.

A hard knock, however, can have no more practical effect than that which may be produced by a soft one-it can only get the door opened after all. And I am not sure that in the present case it expedited the process; for it seemed to induce agitation within the building, indicated by apparent running up and down stairs, and subdued voices heard in tones of warning, significant rather of hurry than alacrity. When the portal at last turned upon its hinges, it was found to be in the hands of the bounding Leonora-the house being that of her mistress the eminent Mrs. Grandison.

Leonora, who was always equal to the occasion, whatever it was, received the tall footman with a condescending dignity such as might belong to a Maid of Honour to an Exiled Queen, who has opened the door with an impression of the postman, while the servant has gone out for beer.

The tall footman brought his master's compliments to Mrs. Grandison, with an intimation that he awaited that lady and her friends. Leonora assumed custody of the compliments with becoming courtesy, and answered on her own account that Mrs. Grandison and her friends were quite ready, and would be down directly.

As she spoke Mrs. Grandison emerged from her boudoir on the ground-floor, and almost at the

same moment you might have seen descending the stairs persons of no less importance than Captain Pemberton and May.

Mr. Mandeville-I might as well have told you the manager's name before-was by this time on the pavement. In the spirit of an eastern prince who advances to meet distinguished visitors only to the extent of the carpet, he had not entered the house; but now that the ladies were on what he might consider his own ground, he met them with much consideration, and assisted them into the carriage with every mark of care as regarded their robes and the contingencies of wheels. And the ladies being placed on the seats of honour, and himself and Captain Pemberton with their backs to the horses, he looked as happy as if the presence of the said ladies were his main object in life, and his carriage, horses, and costume-not to mention the little matter of the Imperial Theatrewere quite secondary considerations. The tall footman, with proper obeisance, asked the usual confidential question.

To the Star and Garter,' answered Mr. Mandeville-his servants needed no further direction.

The horses bounded off like a couple of Leonoras; and elatant with the breath of public applause, the party careered proudly on the road to Richmond.

CHAPTER XVIII.

TWO PARTIES AT THE STAR AND
GARTER.

When Cecil Halidame and the Mantons arrived at the Star and Garter, they made acquaintance for the first time with the grand equipage which had preceded them, and whose occupants had just entered the house. The turn-out not only invited attention, but commanded it, and the new arrivals evinced some pardonable curiosity concerning its ownership. Halidame was not at all surprised on obtaining the desired information; for he knew Mr. Mandeville very well by the repute which he enjoyed for riches

and a certain kind of fashion. It is not every rich man who is of the great world; but there is a solidarity about wealth which brings its possessors together, and they accumulate social position as they very frequently accumulate their money, by a joint-stock arrangement with a reserve of limited liability. They have at least a world of their own, and seldom fail to secure for it a tolerably wide orbit in the social system. The great manager, I be lieve, was nobody in particular to begin with; but by force of the magnificent manner in which he employed his wealth, more perhaps than by the wealth itself, he had been particularly successful in obtaining what I have indicated as fashion of a certain kind. If he did not go much into the great world, he at least managed to get a great many of the great world's occupants to come into his little world, which is much the same thing, especially when you decide that the difference doesn't matter.

Mr. Mandeville, it appeared, had a large dinner in one room; and as Mr. Manton's was a small dinner in another room, there was no need that the two societies should meet. This was fortunate, as the repasts of some persons might otherwise have been spoiled. Unpleasant matters lose half their unpleasantness when men have dined. It is a benevolent law of nature which leads an unhappy murderer always to eat a hearty breakfast before he is hanged; and the humane character of our legislation, which is mainly conducted after dinner, will one of these days spare him the hanging altogether. Perhaps our commercial morality would not be so heartless as it is, if transactions in the City took place in the evening.

But here I am in the position of Sir Boyle Roche's bird-so dear to the light literature of the day-supposed to be in two places at once. I must clearly divide myself, and relate what occurred at the two entertainments in separate form.

Mr. Mandeville's dinner was served first, as it had been ordered beforehand, so I will give him the pas.

At Mandeville's.

Mrs. Grandison and Miss Pemberton, after disposing of their bonnets and mantles, rejoined their host and the captain just before the arrival of the last additional guest. The additional guests were all men.

'I am so much obliged to you, Mr. Mandeville,' said Mrs. Grandison, observing the latter fact, and taking the manager aside, 'that you have not asked any other ladies beside ourselves. Some of our friends would have frightened poor May, who is timid enough already.'

'I took care of that,' replied Mr. Mandeville, 'after the hint you gave me. Besides, Captain Pemberton, as you know, is not half reconciled to his daughter's appearance in public, and I really think he would have withdrawn his consent, had not Sir Norman Halidame been enabled to make him independent of her earnings by giving him that place in the Company. I managed that part of the business, as I dare say you guess -in a quiet way.'

'I did indeed, Mr. Mandeville,' returned the actress,' and my mental remark was-that is a noble act, dictated by a noble mind. It would have been a sin against dramatic art if the wonderful talent which Miss Pemberton has displayed, and the extraordinary aptitude which she has shown for the stage with so very little tuition, had been withheld from the public. And of her success on Saturday I have not the least doubt.'

'Nor I, indeed, Mrs. Grandison,' said the manager; but I thought it just as well that a few of the fellows should make her acquaintance beforehand: though even in this policy I have been discreet. You see I have not any of the actual critics here, but rather people who influence them, and do good in indirect ways-if only by talking in favour of a new star. And that reminds me I must present a few of them, at any rate. In speaking of her, by-the-by, don't forget to call her by the name I have given herMiss Mirabel. Her father, I think, is not wrong in wishing her own

name withheld. He keeps his, remember, and is called her uncle.'

So the great man hurried off to bring up a few of his friends, of whom all were regarding May with as much curiosity and admiration as could be decently disguised.

And May, indeed, looked worthy of any homage. Her love for the art she had chosen had, in its gratification and development, imparted to her a new beauty. Her proudlycut features, and well-formed face and head, would under any conditions have been pronounced perfect; while her form-rounded and lithe like a leopard, and sufficiently tall to be decidedly not shortwould have an equal claim to be considered faultless. Her chestnut hair, massed in such wonderful waves, was an ornament, too, of potent effect. But the new charm was in her eyes-I have called them deep grey, but perhaps they were more like violet,-which shone with a fire never known in the old dull days-with the light of a grand consciousness of passion and of power.

Now, however, her glances were timid and repressed; for the ordeal imposed upon her was sufficiently embarrassing-that of making the acquaintance of stranger after stranger with whom she was the object of exclusive attention. Fortunately for her, dinner was served after a few presentations, and she took refuge at the table, where she could not at any rate be expected to talk to half a dozen people at once.

May was on the right of Mr. Mandeville, who occupied the centre. of the table and had Mrs. Grandison on his left. May's next neighbour was Lord Arthur Penge, a son of the Earl of Surbiton-a literary young nobleman and a theatrical young nobleman also, who knew every body and most things, and appeared to have a profound and extensive acquaintance with himself-a personage of whom he evidently had the highest opinion. His appearance was so like that of so many young men you meet about, as to include nothing worthy of note; but he was an amusing fellow, as May found, for a neighbour, and there was at least no harm about

him. A more noticeable man was Mr. Mangles, the distinguished dramatic author, who sat a little way off; but his features were rather ungainly, and he owed his effect to his deep, penetrating eyes. A pleasanter person, with well-cut features and a good head, who looked like a convivial poet grown rather stout, occupied the next chair. This was Mr. Jock Mackenzie, of 'blood and culture' celebrity. He had a potent name and influence; but I am not sure that blood had done anything or culture everything towards his success, which was, after all, due to sheer intellect and originality of mind. Rupert Mannering, the pale, haughty man who sat opposite, had both blood and culture beyond denial; but nobody cared about him as they cared for Jock Mackenzie-and he was so feeble in literature that he had to publish his books at his own expense, and got them ridiculed at his own expense also. I cannot go all round the table just now, but may mention that among the other guests was Captain and LieutenantColonel Jerecho, of the -th Life Guards, who had never missed a first night at a London theatre for fifteen years, except while he was in the Crimea; Lieut. and Captain Tracks, of the same distinguished regiment, who always followed in the footsteps of his brother officer, and had gained eminence in the same particular for the last two years and a half; and Mr. Highjinks, the burlesque writer, who contradicted the popular paradox concerning funny men-founded upon cynical accounts given by serious men-by conveying in his manner and conversation precisely the idea of what he was.

It is rather too bad that I should have forgotten. There was also present, besides the et cetera class of men about town and littérateurs, our friend Mr. Hanger; but that gentleman might be taken for granted by those who knew Mr. Mandeville's mode of making up parties of the kind, for he was a confidant of the manager's as well as of other men, and issued invitations in his name, collecting guests when