I heard these words as I sat in the corner, and I need scarcely say how grossly the impertinence offended me. That the privacy I had paid for should be invaded was bad enough, but that my companion should begin acquaintance with an insult was worse again; and so I determined on no account, nor upon any pretext, would I hold intercourse with him, but maintain a perfect silence and reserve so long as our journey lasted. There was an insufferable jauntiness and self-satisfaction in every movement of the new arrival, even to the reckless way he pitched into the carriage three small white canvas bags, carefully sealed and docketed; the address--which! read--being, “To H.M.'s Minister and Envoy at------, by the Hon. Grey Buller, Attaché, &c” So, then, this was one of the Young Guard of Diplomacy, one of those sucking Talleyrands, which form the hope of the Foreign Office and the terror of middle-class English abroad. “Do you mind smoking?” asked he, abruptly, as he scraped his lucifer match against the roof of the carriage, showing, by the promptitude of his action, how little he cared for my reply. “I never smoke, sir, except in the carriages reserved for smokers,” was my rebukeful answer. “And I always do,” said he, in a very easy tone. Not condescending to notice this rude rejoinder, I drew forth my newspaper, and tried to occupy myself with its contents. “Anything new?” asked he, abruptly. “Not that I am aware, sir. I was about to consult the paper.” “What paper is it?” “It is the 'Banner,' sir,--at your service,” said I, with a sort of sarcasm. “Rascally print; a vile, low, radical, mill-owning organ. Pitch it away!” “Certainly not, sir. Being for _me_ and _my_ edification, I will beg to exercise my own judgment as to how I deal with it.” “It's deuced low, that's what it is, and that's exactly the fault of all our daily papers. Their tone is vulgar; they reflect nothing of the opinions one hears in society. Don't you agree with me?” I gave a sort of muttering dissent, and he broke in quickly,--“Perhaps not; it's just as likely _you_ would not think them low, but take _my_ word for it, _I'm_ right.” I shook my head negatively, without speaking. “Well, now,” cried he, “let us put the thing to the test Read out one of those leaders. I don't care which, or on what subject Read it out, and I pledge myself to show you at least one vulgarism, one flagrant outrage on good breeding, in every third sentence.” “I protest, sir,” said I, haughtily, “I shall do no such thing. I have come here neither to read aloud nor take up the defence of the public press.” “I say, look out!” cried he; “you 'll smash something in that bag you 're kicking there. If I don't mistake, it's Bohemian glass. No, no; all right,” said he, examining the number, “it's only Yarmouth bloaters.” “I imagined these contained despatches, sir,” said I, with a look of what he ought to have understood as withering scorn.