At Victoria Villa the last guest has gone:--the De Camps have gone--departed with cordiality and love for all that is Brown, at the same time sadly mortified with the impression made on that worthy gentleman's friends. Mrs. Brown, worn out and exhausted, has given a parting glance round, with her night-lamp, and panted up to-bed; the Misses Brown have retired to their chambers; John feels very much inclined to proclaim his opinion of the Captain, but is fearful of the consequences; and Mr. Strap, who has fallen a victim to his weak point--strong drink, is rendered thereby quite incapable of making either a base to his person, or a fluent speech, as it seems he wished; for, upon meeting Mr. Brown by the stairs, he made a rush at the esteemed proprietor of that name, prophetically bidding him to "B-B-Beware of Captings in w-w-w-wolf's clo-o-othing, fur all isn't gug-gug-gold as gl-l-l-litters, as the Rev-rind Miss-s-s-ster B-B-Bucket observes, in the Proverbs of Sol'mon's songs." Mr. Strap, after having delivered these sentiments, in what might have been called a _sotto_ voice, to an imaginary Mr. Brown (for the reality had withdrawn to bed), performs an unsuccessful backward movement upon his heels--as if to survey his victim,--coming to the ground; where he lay until borne off by John, who thinks him a valiant fool. The persevering Brown, though much fatigued, does not postpone the Diary:--"January 4_th_, _Friday_--_Execrable_ Friday!--We this day gave our Annual Ball--_we_, indeed!--why I knew nothing about it until all the cards had been despatched. Mrs. Brown asks--just as Tom does, if he may have the sugar, when it is half consumed:--_It was Mrs. Brown's ball_ in every sense. I did hope to have experienced more enjoyment for the money. I have many a time been happier at half the price;--ay, happier when I was clerk at Chizzle and Filch's, in Aldermanbury; but, somehow, I suppose a man must make sacrifices for his friends, as penurious old Chizzle did, when he paid the debt of nature, and left to me _that_ he could not take away! Not that I ever made any sacrifices for Spohf--no, _he_ never asked it;--cheap trusty friendship is _something_!--I must own to feeling, all the evening, as if my collar had too much starch therein; and more out of place in my own house than the 'white neckerchiefs' that waited at supper. I am like a fish out of water, and that fish, a flat-fish--caught with a bit of red rag; however, there must be a great deal in use--another element may be delightful, when used to it. There is no doubt my old friend Wideawake's attack upon the Captain was mere envy; and as to his insinuating that I should never eat a peck of salt with _that_ man--to say I shall never know _that_ man, is preposterous!--as to eating the literal peck, no man, probably, will do that; for the Captain has an aversion to saline food, saying it makes the bones soft. I wonder if it has the same effect