As they passed the parlour, Belden was sitting with Mrs. Budlong. It was as much contact as was possible in public, and some women allow liberal possibilities. “How much that Belden looks like your friend Dunstan,” said Granby. “No compliment to Dunstan, who is just the type American, chivalrous, half-alligator, not without a touch of the non-snapping but tenderly billing and cooing turtle. A graceful union of Valentine and Orson. He is the finest fellow I have seen and his giant friend, Paulding, is made of the same porcelain in bigger mold. They seem to have been everywhere and seen and done everything, except what gentlemen should not do. You’ll do well, Ambient, to model after them for your Yankee life.” “Doosed fine fellows,” said Ambient, “and Dunstan has told me lots about buffalo hunting. This fellow may look a little like Harwy Dunstan--but he is older, seedier, and hawder. Harwy looks as fresh as Adam before the fall. If he was not such an out-and-outer and my fwiend, I should be savage at him for cutting me out with Diana. She seemed to like him, by George!--fwom the start.” “I thought it was Miss Clara,” said Ira, “and that Granby would be gouging the young hero. Paulding seems to me more devoted to Diana.” “Do you know,” said Granby, “to pass from bipeds to quadrupeds--that Mr. Belden is trying to make up a race with that wide-travelling horse of his? I heard him phrase it the other day that he could ‘wipe out’ Pallid.” “If he should offer a bet on that, I wish you would take it--for me, you understand--to any amount,” said Ira. “His horse is a singed cat, but Pallid don’t need any fire singeing him to make him go. I didn’t think he could go as he does, but he is working into it every day.” “Belden won’t stand a very large bet. He has been subscribing, as they call it, to the Frenchman lately. Are both those men lovers of your fat friend’s wife? What villains some women are! Bless them!” said Granby. “Didn’t you tell me, Ambient, that you had seen that Frenchman somewhere?” “I’m looking at him every day,” replied Sir Com. “I lost a thousand pounds to some fellows in Pawis two years ago. I was gween then--a pwecious sight gweener than I am now. Those fellows showed me about Pawis, and all I know of the money is that I lost the thousand one night at what they call a pwivate hell. I was vewy dwunk at the time, I’m ashamed to say, and have no doubt they plucked me. I’m almost suah that this Fwenchman is one of the same chaps. He’s diffewently got up, but if I can spot him (as Skewwett says) I shall pound him more or less--more, I think.” “Do so, O six-feet Nemesis! and you will take the house down. If you will mill the Gaul and Waddy beat that contemptible fellow in the race--_Io triumphe!_ which means I not only owe but will pay a triumphal supper.”