Dick Millet thrust his scented cambric back into the pocket of his silk-lined coat, and after a glance at the ladies, either of whom he longed to take in to dinner, he had a look round the room to see which would be the most eligible dinner-table companion of those that were left; but to his disgust he began to find that he was being left entirely in the cold, for the hostess, with all the skill of one who has well made her plans beforehand, was rapidly finishing her arrangements. "It's enough to make any man's nose bleed, and compel him to bolt," muttered the handsome little fellow, who had got himself up in the most irreproachable manner, having even been to town that afternoon on purpose to place himself in a hairdresser's hands. "Hang it all! am I nobody?" It was hard work getting hold of the ends, but Dick managed to give a vicious twist to his delicate floss silk moustache, and he was contemplating a fresh appeal to his scented handkerchief and making the threatened bolt, as he termed it, with the cambric held to his nose, when Lady Littletown approached. "Now, my dearest Richard," she exclaimed, and her many years, the speck of gold near one top tooth, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and the suggestions of untruthfulness about her hair, all seemed to be softened down and seen through an eyeglass tinted _a la rose_, "I'm a very covetous person, and I always make a point, like the wicked old widow I am, of reserving the most _beau chevalier_ for myself. Now you have to take me in, we two last; and you'll be obliged to help me out of my difficulties if there is anything to carve." Dick coloured a little with pride: "And we, too, must have a pleasant chat about mamma and the dear girls; and, oh, I am so glad you took to the army and are quartered down here. It will be so pleasant for me; but I shall, for mamma's sake, watch all your doings. I am not going to have you turn out a _roue_ like your wicked Major. Come along." So Dick took in her ladyship, feeling taller, and actually seeming to swell a little, as he found himself seated at his hostess's right hand. Then, the places being found, every guest's name neatly written on a porcelain _menu_, Lord Henry, at the foot of the table, closed his eyes, bent forward, and in a low, reverent voice said grace, to which Mr Elbraham added a very audible "Amen!" and the dinner commenced. Of course it was all by way of paying her dues to society that things were done so well, for certainly the dinner was as exquisite as the table itself, with its decorations of plate and glass, amidst which, half hidden in almost a redundancy of exotic flowers, was a thoroughly choice dessert. Richard Millet, who rather trembled in the midst of his pride, and had twice in imagination seen wings of chicken, as he dismembered a bird, flying in a cloud of brown sauce into people's laps, was spared all trouble, for the viands were served _a la Russe_, and were perfect of their kind.