"You did, George?"
"Yes. I suppose you noticed that I have been paying a good deal of attention to old Browne's daughter."
"Don't know her, George."
"Oh! her father is a squatter in Australia, with millions. She's his heiress, and not a bad sort either."
"She refused you. Eh?"
"Rather, and now she's engaged to the Earl of Bentham."
"It's the title, my boy. Younger sons have no show nowadays; but how those Australians run after titles. Eh?"
"By Jove, they do," said the other. "But now, as we are companions in misfortune, let's drown our sorrows," and he led the Major in the direction of his club.
Here they were joined by Thomas Thomas, Esq., known to the entire Society world as "Tommy" only. He was one of that common class of young men whom only Society produces. Without any income or apparent means of subsistence he did not work, yet he was invariably well-dressed, and had the entrée of the best houses. Welcome there because he could readily adapt himself to any occasion, preserve a constantly agreeable manner, and had the details of the latest scandal at his finger-ends; in fact was one of the parasites that Society creates, and without whom it cannot get along the thorny path of its day's enjoyment. Tommy greeted the two men with a silent nod, and waited, with the caution typical of his species, to discover the subject of their conversation. This did not take him long, as experience in this work had sharpened his wits. Sitting down beside them, he heaved a deep sigh, and said, sadly:
"I have been atrociously treated, you fellows. The little widow has thrown me over."