Lamb chops à la boulangère, à l’Américaine, à la printanière. Pork chops with pimento butter, à la Tartare; ditto camp fashion. Veal cutlets en papillote; with maître d’hôtel butter; with relishing butter; with fried potatoes. Kidneys on toast, semi-curried; ditto with sherry or port; ditto with champagne. For kidneys à la maître d’hôtel, à la brochette, and à la Roberto Diavolo, see Receipts, page 10. Stewed and curried tripe; ditto Lyonnaise fashion. Lobsters au gratin in the shell; scalloped ditto; curried on toast; lobster cutlets; new salad, Tartar fashion; plain salad with anchovies; crabs au gratin in the shell; crab salad with eggs. Grilled chicken and Sultana sauce; à la Roberto Diavolo, with relishing sauce; new broiled devil, Mayonnaise sauce; chicken, American fashion. Stewed oysters on toast; ditto American fashion, au gratin; fried oysters. Omelettes with fine herbs, mushrooms, sprue grass, ham, and parmesan; poached eggs with cream; ditto with maître-d’hôtel sauce; semi-curried, with ham or bacon. Buttered eggs with mushrooms, sprue grass, ham with shalots, parsley, and chervil. Mirrored eggs with tongue, ham, or bacon; curried eggs; ditto with onion sauce and tomato sauce. Rarebit à la Soyer with sherry or champagne. Fried potatoes in slices; ditto with maître-d’hôtel butter; ditto with Cayenne pepper. Cold asparagus salad, while in season; new potato salad, German fashion; ditto, French and haricot beans.[1] For receipts in Bill of Fare, see Addenda. A Hansom cab was waiting at the door, so I jumped in. “Beg your pardon, sir, I am engaged,” said cabby; “but if you’re not going far, I think I shall have plenty of time to take you.” “Do so, my man; I live close by, in Bloomsbury-street, Bedford-square. Here’s a shilling for you--go ahead, cabby.” Pst! pst! and off we were. In a few minutes, thanks to the evaporation of the thick fog and its having left only a feeble skeleton of its former substance, I found myself at my street door, and was trying for some time to open it with the wrong key, all the while thinking to myself what an extraordinary and uncomfortable evening I had passed to return so late. Perceiving my mistake, I changed the key; opening and shutting the door violently, I rushed up stairs with the intention of booking that evening in my daily tablet as one of the most tedious and uncomfortable I had spent throughout the series of cheerful years granted to me by a Supreme Power. The fire was out, the supper divided between my two friends the Angola cats, the servants in bed, the gas turned off, and the lucifers, I believe, gone to their Mephistophelian domain. CHAPTER I. BY RAIL AND COACH TO VIRGINIA WATER.