"Summer!" interposed George Brummell, entering in a furred great coat. "You do not mistake this for summer, do you? A little more of your summer will just finish me," pulling up his fur collar.
"Upon my honour, I think it very hot," said Leinster. "It must be hot, you know, because it is August."
"I never know the difference, for my part," Fred Bentinck observed. "The only thing that ever makes me cold is putting on a great coat; but then I have always a great deal to do, and that keeps me warm. Once for all madam, will you go to Vauxhall on Monday night? If you will I will put off my sister and accompany you."
I assented, in spite of everything Fanny and Julia could say to prevent me; for Fred Bentinck always made me merry.
"What is Lord Molyneux doing with Mrs. Fitzroy Stanhope?" said I, looking towards that lady's box, where she sat tête-à-tête with his lordship.
"How fond you are of scandal!" observed Fred Bentinck.
"Oh Lord, no," answered I, "on the contrary, I admire her taste. Who would not cut the very best swaggering Stanhope for a Molyneux?"
"Where do you expect to go to, Harriette?" said Bentinck, for at least the twentieth time since I had known him.
"To Amy's to-night, to Lord Hertford's to-morrow, and to Vauxhall on Monday," I replied.
"And then to Brighton, I hope," continued Fanny.