But in the interim caps are making, and talk flowing, at Bath; and when it was found that Lord Mauleverer--the good-natured Lord Mauleverer, the obliging Lord Mauleverer--was really going to be exclusive, and out of a thousand acquaintances to select only eight hundred, it is amazing how his popularity deepened into respect. Now, then, came anxiety and triumph; she who was asked turned her back upon her who was not,--old friendships dissolved,--Independence wrote letters for a ticket,--and, as England is the freest country in the world, all the Mistresses Hodges and Snodges begged to take the liberty of bringing their youngest daughters. Leaving the enviable Mauleverer,--the god-like occasion of so much happiness and woe, triumph and dejection,--ascend with us, O reader, into those elegant apartments over the hairdresser's shop, tenanted by Mr. Edward Pepper and Mr. Augustus Tomlinson. The time was that of evening; Captain Clifford had been dining with his two friends; the cloth was removed, and conversation was flowing over a table graced by two bottles of port, a bowl of punch for Mr. Pepper's especial discussion, two dishes of filberts, another of devilled biscuits, and a fourth of three Pomarian crudities, which nobody touched. The hearth was swept clean, the fire burned high and clear, the curtains were let down, and the light excluded. Our three adventurers and their rooms seemed the picture of comfort. So thought Mr. Pepper; for, glancing round the chamber and putting his feet upon the fender, he said,-- “Were my portrait to be taken, gentlemen, it is just as I am now that I would be drawn!” “And,” said Tomlinson, cracking his filberts,--Tomlinson was fond of filberts,--“were I to choose a home, it is in such a home as this that I would be always quartered.” “Ah, gentlemen,” said Clifford, who had been for some time silent, “it is more than probable that both your wishes may be heard, and that ye may be drawn, quartered, and something else, too, in the very place of your desert!” “Well,” said Tomlinson, smiling gently, “I am happy to hear you jest again, Captain, though it be at our expense.” “Expense!” echoed Ned; “ay, there's the rub! Who the deuce is to pay the expense of our dinner?” “And our dinners for the last week?” added Tomlinson. “This empty nut looks ominous; it certainly has one grand feature strikingly resembling my pockets.” “Heigho!” sighed Long Ned, turning his waistcoat commodities inside-out with a significant gesture, while the accomplished Tomlinson, who was fond of plaintive poetry, pointed to the disconsolate vacua, and exclaimed, “E'en while Fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart desponding asks if this be joy!”