"It was ever thus, D'Almaine," said Lady Mary; "always hesitating between a natural liberality of disposition, and a cold, calculating, acquired parsimony, that has never increased our fortune in the sum of sixpence, or added in the slightest degree to our domestic comforts." "All the prejudice of education" said D'Almaine, good-humouredly; "my old uncle, the banker, to whose bounty we are both much indebted, my dear, early inculcated these notions of thrift into the brain of a certain lighthearted young gentleman, whose buoyant spirits sometimes led him a little beyond the barrier of prudence, and too often left him environed with difficulties in the marshes of impediment. 'Look before you leap,' was a wise saw of the old gentleman's; and 'be just before you're generous,' a proverb that never failed to accompany a temporary supply, or an additional demand upon his generosity."—"Hang your old uncle!" replied Lady Mary, pouting and trying to look ill-tempered in the face of Lord Henry's good-natured remonstrance,—"I never ask a favour for myself, or solicit you to take the recreation necessary to your own health and that of your family, but I am pestered with the revised musty maxims of your dead old uncle. He has been consigned to the earth these ten years, and if it were not for the ten thousand per annum he left us, ought long since to have shared the fate of his ancestry, whose names were never heard more of than the tributary tablet imparts to the eye of curiosity in a country church, and within whose limits all inquiry ends." "Gratitude, Lady Mary, if not respect for my feelings, should preserve that good man's name from reproach." Lord Henry's eye was unusually expressive—he continued:—"The coronet that graces your own soul-inspiring face would lack the lustre of its present brilliancy, but for the generous bequest of the old city banker, whose plum was the sweetest windfall that ever dropt into the empty purse of the poor possessor of an ancient baronial title. The old battlements of Crackenbury have stood many a siege, 'tis true; but that formidable engine of modern warfare, the catapulta of the auctioneer, had, but for him, proved more destructive to its walls than the battering-ram and hoarse cannonades of ancient rebels."

When a woman is foiled at argument, she generally has recourse to finesse. Lady Mary had made up her mind to carry her point; finding therefore the right column of her vengeance turned by the smart attack of D'Almaine's raillery, she was determined to out-flank him with her whole park of well-appointed artillery, consisting of all those endearing, solicitous looks and expressions, that can melt the most obdurate heart, and command a victory over the most experienced general. It was in vain that Lord Henry urged the unusual heavy expenses of the season in town,—the four hundred paid for the box at the opera,—or the seven hundred for the greys and the new barouche,—the pending demand from Messrs. Rundell's for the new service of plate,—and the splendid alterations and additions just made to the old family hall,—with numerous other most provoking items which the old steward had conjured up, as if on purpose, to abridge the pleasures of Lady Mary's intended tour. "It was very distressing—she heartily wished there was no such thing as money in the world—it made people very miserable—they were a much happier couple, she contended, when they were merely Honourables, and lived upon a paltry two thousand and the expectancy—there never was any difficulty then about money transactions, and a proposition for a trip to a watering-place was always hailed with pleasure."—"True, Lady Mary; but then you forget we travelled in a stage coach, with your maid on the outside, while my man servant, with a led-horse, followed or preceded us. Then, we were content with lodgings on the West-cliff, and the use of a kitchen: now, we require a splendid establishment, must travel in our own chariot, occupy half a mews with our horses, and fill half a good-sized barrack with our servants. Then, we could live snug, accept an invitation to dinner with a commoner, and walk or ride about as we pleased, without being pointed at as lions or raro aves just broke loose from the great state aviary at St. James's." "We shall scarcely be discovered," said Lady Mary, "among the stars that surround the regal planet."—"We shall be much mortified then," said Lord Henry, facetiously.—"You are very provoking, D'Almaine. I know your turf speculations have proved fortunate of late: I witnessed Sir Charles paying you a large sum the other morning; and I have good reason for thinking you have been successful at the club, for I have not heard your usual morning salutation to your valet, who generally on the occasion of your losses receives more checks than are payable at your bankers. You shall advance me a portion of your winnings, in return for which I promise you good health, good society, and, perhaps, if the stars shoot rightly, a good place for our second son. In these days of peace, the distaff can effect more than the field-marshal's baton."—"Always provided," said my sire (clapping his hand upon his os frontis), "that nothing else shoots out of such condescensions."

"But why has Brighton the preference as a watering place?" said Lord Henry: "the Isle of Wight is, in my opinion, more retired; Southampton more select; Tunbridge Wells more rural; and Worthing more social."—"True, D'Almaine; but I am not yet so old and woe-begone, so out of conceit with myself, or misanthropic with the world, to choose either the retired, the select, the rural, or the social. I love the bustle of society, enjoy the promenade on the Steyne, and the varied character that nightly fills the libraries; I read men, not books, and above all I enjoy the world of fashion. Where the King is, there is concentrated all that is delightful in society. Your retired dowagers and Opposition peers may congregate in rural retirement, and sigh with envy at the enchanting splendour of the court circle; those only who have felt its cheering influence can speak of its inspiring pleasures; and all who have participated in the elegant scene will laugh at the whispers of malignity and the innuendoes of disappointment, which are ever pregnant with some newly invented on dit of scandalous tendency, to libel a circle of whom they know nothing but by report; and that report, in nine instances out of ten, 'the weak invention of the enemy.'" "Bravo, Lady Mary; your spirited defence of the Pavilion party does honour to your heart, and displays as much good sense as honest feeling; but a little interest, methinks, lurks about it for all that: I have not forgotten the honour we received on our last visit; and you, I can perceive, anticipate a renewal of the same gratifying condescension; so give James his instructions, and let him proceed to Brighton to-morrow to make the necessary arrangements for our arrival."

Thus ended the colloquy in the usual family manner, when well-bred men entertain something more than mere respect for their elegant and accomplished partners.