Livius was immediately seated at the pianoforte. When he got to the last chorus-song Elliston jumped up, declaring he was to sing that with the rest, and had not yet heard a word of it. He then began, with a serious face, accompanying Livius. "Oh 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love." "Elliston!" bawled out George Lamb, "why the deuce don't you come and finish your supper? I want to speak to you." Elliston took no notice; but continued his "_Oh! 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love._" "Livius," then said George Lamb, "I want to ask you whether you have places to spare for your night?" "Elliston won't allow me to leave off," replied Livius, still continuing to play, to Elliston's "_Oh! 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love!_" "Leave off, you blockhead!" said George Lamb to Elliston. "I will lay you fifty guineas that you do not repeat one line as Livius has written it, either in your song or your speech." Elliston appeared to agree, and give up the matter as hopeless, for, darting from the pianoforte towards Livius's young, female friend, who still continued at table, he gave her such an ardent embrace that she was quite frightened, and then, as I sat next, he conferred the same honour on me. "Good heavens! what a mountebank is here!" said I, pushing him from me. George Lamb sat next; for he had not half finished his supper. Elliston placed himself in a theatrical attitude ready to embrace him. "And, as to you, my George!" said he, with much pathos. "For God's sake," exclaimed George Lamb, with his mouth full of dried cherries, "for God's sake, do not play the fool with me!" Elliston now seated himself by my side, and said, in a whisper, "Don't you want tea?" "No, but you do, I see," answered I, and I had the charity to request Livius to give me some tea. Elliston did the honours of the tea-table. The tea had a surprising effect in making him stupid; because it made him sober. He politely offered me his private box for Livius's night, and regretted that it was not a better one. It was a large box, on the stage; but rather too high up. Livius had a private box to himself, and tickets for a host of friends. "It is three o'clock," said I, at last, "and I dare not risk my _petite santé_, another instant." "Good people are so scarce!" added George Lamb. "No," I added, "I am good for very little. You will find better people every day, and wiser; but nobody at all like me." George Lamb expressed himself quite of this opinion. It was past four o'clock in the morning when I got home. The Duke of Leinster, Harry De Roos, and Sophia dined with me on the following day. Just as we were about to sit down to dinner Lord Deerhurst was announced. "Dear me, how tiresome," said Sophia. "Do not send him here, pray," said Leinster and de Roos in the same breath. I went down to ask him what he wanted, and informed him of my dinner-party, with whom I knew he was unacquainted.