“His lordship had three brothers, _Billingsgate! Hellgate!_ and _Newgate!_ whose names are adorned with a similarity of perfections in the Temple of Fame; but they are consigned to the tomb of the Capulets, and we will not rake up the ashes of the dead.”{1} At this moment a loud knocking was heard at the door, and Mr. Sparkle was ushered into the drawing-room, which he entered, as it were, with a hop, step, and jump, and had Tom Dashall by the hand almost before they could turn round to see who it was. “My dear fellow!” exclaimed Sparkle, almost out of breath, “where have you been to? Time has been standing still since your departure!--there has been a complete void in nature--how do you do?--I beg pardon, (turning to Bob) you will excuse my rapture at meeting my old friend, whom I have lost so long, that I have almost lost myself--egad, I have run myself out of breath--cursed unlucky I was not in the Park this morning to see you first, but I have just heard all about you from Lady Jane, and lost no time in paying my respects--what are you going to do with yourself?” 1 There was a delicate propriety in this conduct of the Hon. Tom Dashall which cannot but be admired; for although they were alone, and speaking to each other in perfect confidence, it was always his desire to avoid as much as possible making bad worse; he had a heart to feel, as well as a head to think; and would rather lend a hand to raise a fellow-creature from the mud than walk deliberately over him; besides, he foresaw other opportunities would arise in which, from circumstances, he would almost be compelled to draw his Cousin's attention again to the persons in question, and he was always unwilling to ex-haust a subject of an interesting nature without sonic leading occurrence to warrant it. ~35~~At this moment dinner was announced. “Come,” said Tom, “let us refresh a bit, and after dinner I will tell you all about it. We are travellers, you know, and feel a little fatigued. _Allons, allons_.” And so saying, he led the way to the dinner-room. “Nothing could be more _apropos_,” said Sparkle, “for although I have two engagements beforehand, and have promised a visit to you know who in the evening, they appear like icicles that must melt before the sun of your re-appearance: so I am your's.” And to it they went. Tom always kept a liberal table, and gave his friends a hearty welcome. But here it will be necessary, while they are regaling themselves, to make our readers a little acquainted with Charles Sparkle, Esq.; for which purpose we must request his patience till the next chapter. CHAPTER V “Place me, thou great Supreme, in that blest state, Unknown to those the silly world call Great, Where all my wants may be with ease supply'd, Yet nought superfluous to pamper pride.”