Mr. Podgson had acquired his immense wealth by railway speculations; and the disgusting sycophants who invariably attach themselves to rich men with weak minds, had nonsensically dubbed him the _Railway Lion_! Had they called him the _Railway Elephant_, in allusion to his unwieldy proportions--or the _Railway Bear_, in reference to his manners--or the _Railway Donkey_, in respect to his intelligence,--they would have been more faithful to truth. But the _Railway Lion_ he was;--and it was now in the presence of this tremendous animal that Mr. Bubbleton Styles stood. Without rising from his chair, Mr. Podgson, M.P., waved his hand with all the majesty of a stage-monarch; and as this gesticulation was intended to be a fashionable--no, a dignified mode of desiring Mr. Bubbleton Styles to be seated, Mr. Bubbleton Styles seated himself accordingly. Mr. Podgson then stared very hard at his visitor; and this was the Railway Lion’s method of intimating that he was “all attention.” “I believe, sir,” said Mr. Styles, in a very polite and courteous manner--but without any thing like cringing servility,--“I believe, sir, that you last night received a letter from Alderman Tripes----” “Oh! ah!” exclaimed Mr. Podgson, in his thick voice: “I remember! My very particular and intimate friend, Mr. Alderman Tripes, assures me in his communication that you have a famous project on the tappy----” Mr. Podgson meant _tapis_--but could not precisely achieve the correct pronunciation. “And that project I shall have much pleasure in submitting to you, sir,” added Mr. Styles, proceeding to unfold the large roll of papers which he had brought with him. “Well--I don’t mind--that is, to obleege you, I’ll just look over them,” said Mr. Podgson, in an indifferent--careless way. “But,” he added, glancing at the elegant watch which he drew with affected negligence from his waistcoat pocket, “I’ve got an appointment at a quarter to eleven--and I must be punctual to the rendy-woo.” Mr. Styles assured the great man that he would not detain him a moment beyond the time named for the _rendez-vous_; and, spreading his plans and maps upon the table, the small speculator began to explain his objects and views to the large capitalist. “Who’s the engineer?” enquired the latter: then, looking at the corner of the plan, and perceiving the name, he cried, “Oh! Dummerley--eh? Well--he’s a good man--a very good man! I was talking to Lord Noodleton the other day about him--Lord Noodleton and me are intimate friends, you know--very intimate----” “His lordship has reason to be proud of your friendship, sir,” observed Mr. Styles, adroitly availing himself of the opportunity to pay a compliment. “Hem! well--Noodleton _does_ seem grateful,” said, the Railway Lion, glancing complacently at one of his boots. “But, about this spec of yours, Mr. Styles? Shall you have a good list of Provisional Committee?”