When I add that a double curb-chain of gold, sustaining a dozen trinkets, ornamented the wearer’s stomach, and a short pipe, blackened by unintermitting smoking, graced his mouth, I have done all I can to convey a representation of the gentleman whom I now found making himself agreeable to Miss Lushington in the bar, and whom I had no hesitation in setting down in my own mind as the proprietor of the dog-cart in the yard. He was sitting, when I entered, not _at_, but _on_ the table, by the side of his sherry and bitters. Volumes of smoke, _latakia_, and something stronger, I could swear by the fragrance (and here I may remark, in parenthesis, that if the London tobacconists kept up the exorbitant price of cigars, as they have lately done, nobody will smoke anything _but_ a short pipe very soon), curled upward from his mouth, and I was just too late for some irresistible witticism which had convulsed Miss Lushington with laughter. Indeed, that lady’s fair hand was applied to her lips, as if to conceal or repress her hilarity, when I entered. An Oriental woman’s idea of modesty is to cover her mouth; and, indeed, to keep that organ shut, as much as possible, is no bad custom for the sex to adopt. But why ladies of Miss Lushington’s social standing should habitually express intense amusement by the same gesture, I cannot take upon me to explain. When the teeth are black and the hands white there may be reason for it; but Miss Lushington could not fairly be accused of either of these specialities. “Softly! How goes it?” exclaimed the new-comer, removing his pipe from his mouth, and rolling off the table, and on to his legs, with a coachmanlike action extremely difficult to acquire. “Give us your flipper, old boy! Ah! I forgot you’d had your wing broken. Never mind; might have been worse. Won’t your liquor up? Now, Miss L., look alive! those sparklers of yours were made for use as well as ornament. What’s our friend’s variety? An invalid ought to be taken care of, you know. Draught three times a day, and the mixture _as_ before.” Greeting my voluble acquaintance, whom I now recognised as young Mr. Plumtree, of The Ashes, but of whom my previous knowledge did by no means warrant such a familiarity as he was kind enough to display, with a more stately and reserved demeanour than usual I lit my cigar, and proceeded, in self-defence, to envelop my person in its fumes.