"You must positively introduce him to me," said Mrs. Dollimore. "I will, with great pleasure," said the good-natured Mr. Smith. "Is Sir Ralph a man of fashion?" inquired Mr. Ritson. "He's a baronet!" emphatically pronounced Mr. Smith. "Ah!" replied Ritson, "but he may be a man of rank, without being a man of fashion." "True," lisped Mrs. Dollimore. "I don't know," replied Smith, with an air of puzzled wonderment, "but he has L7,000. a-year." "Has he, indeed?" cried Mrs. Dollimore, surprised into her natural tone of voice; and, at that moment, a young lady, ringletted and flowered like herself, joined her, and accosted her by the endearing appellation of "Mamma." "Have you been dancing, my love?" inquired Mrs. Dollimore. "Yes, ma; with Captain Johnson." "Oh," said the mother, with a toss of her head; and giving her daughter a significant push, she walked away with her to another end of the room, to talk about Sir Ralph Rumford, and his seven thousand pounds a-year. "Well!" thought I, "odd people these; let us enter a little farther into this savage country." In accordance with this reflection, I proceeded towards the middle of the room. "Who's that?" said Mr. Smith, in a loud whisper, as I passed him. "'Pon honour," answered Ritson, "I don't know! but he's a deuced neat looking fellow, quite genteel." "Thank you, Mr. Ritson," said my vanity; "you are not so offensive after all." I paused to look at the dancers; a middle-aged, respectable looking gentleman was beside me. Common people, after they have passed forty, grow social. My neighbour hemmed twice, and made preparation for speaking. "I may as well encourage him," was my reflection; accordingly I turned round, with a most good-natured expression of countenance. "A fine room this, Sir," said the man immediately. "Very," said I, with a smile, "and extremely well filled." "Ah, Sir," answered my neighbour, "Cheltenham is not as it used to be some fifteen years ago. I have seen as many as one thousand two hundred and fifty persons within these walls;" (certain people are always so d--d particularizing,) "ay, Sir," pursued my laudator temporis acti, "and half the peerage here into the bargain." "Indeed!" quoth I, with an air of surprise suited to the information I received, "but the society is very good still, is it not?" "Oh, very genteel," replied the man; "but not so dashing as it used to be." (Oh! those two horrid words! low enough to suit even the author of"- -.") "Pray," asked I, glancing at Messrs. Ritson and Smith, "do you know who those gentlemen are?" "Extremely well!" replied my neighbour: "the tall young man is Mr. Ritson; his mother has a house in Baker-street, and gives quite elegant parties. He's a most genteel young man; but such an insufferable coxcomb." "And the other?" said I.