Miss Augusta Manby then took upon herself to remark that that was one compensation for her exile from the realms of fashion. All seasons, she remarked, were the same at Dalston, where people had new clothes when the old ones were worn out, and never studied times or seasons. "And now tell me, dear, who are coming?" said Bella Merton, while her brother John sat in the window-seat, and tried to derive a gleam of satisfaction from the inspection of the fashion-plates in _La Belle Assemblée_; "of course that dear delightful old Gus--and who else?" "I have asked Fanny Stafford, and she has promised to come." "No! that is fun!" said Bella Merton, laughing. "And Mr. Burgess----" "No! that's better still!" said Bella, laughing more heartily: "what! _our_ Mr. Burgess?" "Of course. Did he not tell you?" "Not one single word, dear. But of course I understand why!" and the young lady relapsed into fits of merriment. "You have all the joke to yourself at present, Bella," said John Merton, looking up from his fashion-book. "And you won't have any of it, so far as I can see, during any part of the evening, my poor old John!" said his sister. "I'm sorry I can't understand your West End wit, Bella dear," said their hostess, with some asperity. "You will see it all in a minute," said Bella, striving to compose her countenance. "Burgess has been raving-mad in love with Fanny Stafford, whom he has only seen for an instant, ever since Mr. Kammerer gave him her photograph to tint. My brother John, here, of course fell over head and ears directly he saw her; and there's another man of a different kind, with no end of money and position and all that, about whom I must say nothing. So much for Fanny Stafford. But what's to become of you and me, Augusta? There's nobody left for us but old Gus." "What's that you are saying about old Gus?" said a fat jolly voice, belonging to a fat jolly man, of about forty years of age, who entered the room at the moment. This was Augustus Manby, the hostess's brother, a tea-taster attached to an establishment in Mincing Lane--a convivial soul, and a thorough vulgarian. "Saying!" said Bella Merton, whose two hands he was wringing, after having given his sister a smacking kiss; "that we should have no one but you to flirt with, all the other men would be absorbed by Fanny Stafford." "Well, they are welcome so far as I am concerned," said plain-spoken Gus. "She's a nice girl, Fanny; but I don't like them red, and I do like more of them; and that's the fact." "Hush! do be quiet," said his sister, as the bell sounded again; and the next minute Fanny Stothard entered the room.