"Well, Sleech, you have done the thing well," cried the admiral. "I little thought to see anybody else than an Everard in this house. However, the world's turned upside down; rogues get into honest men's places, and honest men come to the wall--that's the way affairs go at present." "I am obliged to you for the compliment, Sir James," answered Mr. Sleech, again bowing, and not knowing whether to take offence. "I don't mean to call you a rogue, Sleech, of course," answered the admiral, intending to exculpate himself. "Never think of calling a man a rogue in his own house, whatever I may think about the matter." Happily for both parties, the conversation was cut short by the entrance of General and Mrs. Perkins, whose tall figures completely overwhelmed that of the somewhat diminutive lawyer. Again he bowed as before, now to the lady, now to the gentleman, who returned his salutations in a somewhat cold manner, and passed on, looking round the rooms with inquisitive glances, and making remarks as they passed along. The Misses Sleech curtseyed as before. Mrs. Perkins returned their salutes with one of her stiffest bows. Now the people came trooping in more rapidly, and the music at length struck up, to call the dancers into the ball-room, where Mú Millepied had been engaged as master of the ceremonies. Bowing to the guests, he assumed his responsible office. Still Mr. Sleech looked round in vain for those he would most have delighted to see. There were several whose names he would not have valued much at the back of a bill, and not a few ladies whose characters would certainly have ill borne any very minute examination. Still he hoped that they would not be observed in the crowd, or attempt to make themselves conspicuous. Vain hope. Their names were quickly buzzed about, and they took good care to be seen dancing with the most dashing of the officers, while they paid constant and especial attention to the Misses Sleech. At length a real English countess arrived.