"No," said I, "I love it not; it hath an under taste of sourness, and an upper of oil, which do not make harmony to my palate. But, as I was saying, the Whigs, on the contrary, pay the utmost deference to their partizans; and a man of fortune, rank, and parliamentary influence, might have all the power without the trouble of a leader."
"Very likely," said Guloseton, drowsily.
"I must change my battery," thought I; but while I was meditating a new attack, the following note was brought me:—
"For God's sake, Pelham, come out to me: I am waiting in the street to
see you; come directly, or it will be too late to render me the service I
would ask of you.
"R. Glanville."
I rose instantly. "You must excuse me, Lord Guloseton, I am called suddenly away."
"Ha! ha!" laughed the gourmand; "some tempting viand—post prandia
Callirhoe."
"My good lord," said I, not heeding his insinuation—"I leave you with the greatest regret."
"And I part from you with the same; it is a real pleasure to see such a person at dinner."
"Adieu! my host—'Je vais vivre et manger en sage.'"