have been listening to Johnnie Paulett, who is a man of experience and of the world, and he declares (and, faith, I half believe him) that the hearts of women who are everything that is charitable, and kind, and gracious, among the field and flowers of God's blessed country, turn into very touchwood, as hollow, as worthless, and as light, when in the dust and dross of the city that man had made! There is no pure milk of human kindness in folks' nature here; cold water is the chief ingredient-three parts to one at least.'

If this be Mr. Paulett's opinion,' said Helen, it is a somewhat ungrateful return for the hospitality with which he is everywhere received.'

'Paulett is losing health and nerve,' said Brandreth, sadly; a man must suffer for having led an aimless, useless existence. And what, in Heaven's name, is to become of him when he grows old? I do not mean that he has visions of the workhouse fare before him, poor fellow! but he has a pros

pect which, on my soul! I think is worse. Day by day, when he will have lost the power to amuse them, friends will drop from him; invitations will grow fewer; and his evenings at home and alone more frequent. Even now he has not always health or spirits for the "Club," which will some day be almost his only resource- no wife! no children! and nothing of comfort or of satisfaction to look

back upon ! Such a kind-hearted, good fellow too! It is a melancholy prospect, and one that, I know it, often saddens Johnnie's own heart to dwell on.'

'Melancholy indeed,' said Helen, ‘and one on which, as you remark, our poor friend often thinks. Most ungrateful, too, are the very persons who have benefited by his brilliant powers of conversation; for they appear to think that by allowing him to eat and drink at their lordly boards, they have paid him for his witty sallies and his cheery talk. Ah! who can deny the melancholy fact that there is dirt in "the crumbs that fall from a rich man's

table!" Poor Johnnie! Do you know that I have even heard him accused of the sin of

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'flunkeyism," and have found it impossible (except by barren and useless words) to defend him. It is so hard to hear a friend unjustly stigmatized? Johnnie, too, who of all living men sees least the difference ""twixt Tweedledum and Tweedledee!""

'And how amusing he is!' continued Arthur. We both dined yesterday at the L's, and he said such dry, quaint things, giving point to the dull jests of others by his own, happy turns of thought, and quick appreciation of the ludicrous.'

'Yes, he certainly does possess the gift of making those he amuses, believe themselves to be the sayers of good things.'

'The success of a jest lying oftener in the ear of him that hears it, than in the tongue of him who makes it,' quoted Brandreth;

but besides this happy quality, Johnnie possesses the invaluable one of either being or seeming interested in the conversation of his

fellow-guests. How many of us demonstrate an impatience, at once mortifying and angering to the colloquist, who is taking his turn at the table-talk! And how few of us even appear to consider the affairs of others as interesting to any but the expounder of them! With Johnnie, a tender care for the feelings of his fellow-man is a constitutional gift; one of the few that he has not suffered to rust for want of use.'

'I am glad that you find him at least unaltered, and standing firm amongst the disastrous changes and chances that you mourn

over.'

'Don't laugh at me, but listen while I tell you something of what passed at our dinner yesterday. A rather pretty girl was on my right hand. She was not shy, and for that I at first thanked her, as she chatted away to her stranger neighbour in a free, pretty kind of fashion. Her dress was peculiar, rich for an unmarried woman, but somewhat too décolletée, for any of God's civilized creatures.

After a glass or two of champagne her spirits rose-pray do not be shocked-she was excited a little by talk, and noise, and wine; but she was evidently too much accustomed to the latter not to take her glass with tolerable safety.'

6

'Now, Mr. Brandreth, I am disappointed in you,' said Helen, for I had thought you more charitable, and less given to evil surmises.'

'My dear Mrs. Vaughan, forgive me if I have done evil in your sight; but note well that I have mentioned no names, and that I do but quote one instance of the truth of what I hear, alas! much talked of, namely, that the hard life led by London young ladies, and the constant state of excitement in which they exist, calls for, and is in part kept up and supported by the over-free use of pernicious stimulants. But to return to my pleasant neighbour. Young Lord Eastham was seated opposite to us, and across the table she addressed him frequently. This