"Beat--beat, Gascoigne," exclaimed Spencer Newcomb.--Lord Baskerville looked around with a dignified air, and for a moment silence ensued, not however without a wink passing from Spencer Newcomb, implying that they had gone as far as was advisable. But Lord Gascoigne was not to be stopped without a farewell shot, as he added, "Well, Baskerville, we start at eight, and breakfast at nine, is it not so?" The latter again tried to look grave, but obliged at length in self-defence to join in the laugh which followed these words, he let fall for an instant the mask that too often covered his most trivial actions, and appeared the good-hearted good-humoured creature nature had made him. "Somerton," said Sir William Temple, breaking the subject of conversation, "do you remember when you were at my chateau in the north?" "Yes," was the dry reply he received from one who, though he eat his dinners, held him in the most sovereign disdain, and this "yes" sounded harshly on the ears of Sir William, living as he did in the praises bestowed on his establishments, and never losing an opportunity of referring to the subject of them; nor was he less annoyed, as he observed a whisper pass between his northern guest and Lord Tonnerre, to whom Lord Somerton had turned after his very short and laconic reply, and added, "The fellow had one covey of partridges, two dozen of Burgundy, and a mistress; I made love to the one, drank the other, killed the third, and then quitted." "Good," said Spencer Newcomb, who had overheard what passed; "he would have pardoned you, however, the first, if you had praised the others." "No doubt he would," replied Lord Somerton, "but on my conscience I could not do it, and I presume he feels this as well as myself, for I shall make him give me a dinner the first day in the week I am disengaged." Thus fared Sir William Temple in the hands of those for whom he had lavished, and _incessantly_ lavished, an expense which, if properly directed, would have rendered him an amiable, respectable, and happy individual. As it was, he spent his money on objects despicable in themselves, and for persons absolutely turning him into ridicule while enjoying his bounty. The party from the dining-table soon after arose, some having attained the object for which alone they came, the enjoyment of a dinner; others who had yet a further motive, ascended to the drawing-rooms, and after passing there sufficient time to complete arrangements, arrange departures, and fix dry points that needed discussion for the morrow's amusement or occupation, took their departure also, leaving Sir William Temple to feed on the empty honour which remained to him, of having entertained in his house in May-fair so distinguished a party; none of whom, however, beyond the dinner-living Lord Somerton, Spencer Newcomb, and one or two lordlings, ever intended to think more of him for the future. CHAPTER VIII. THE CONTRAST.