"As I was saying, gentlemen," Elliston proceeded, "I mean, my kind friends, it has ever been my ambition to give you pleasure, and, gentlemen, masquerades are pleasant, merry, spirited things, particularly when the occasion is, like this, to celebrate the birthday of our august—oh! gentlemen and ladies, apropos, I had forgotten,—but I now, though last not least, beg to propose a toast, in which every one of you will join me in your heart of hearts!"
Elliston filled a bumper, and drank—"His Majesty!"
We were all stunned with the loud cheers, three times three repeated, which followed. He then passed round the tables, and stopped to speak to several of his friends, one of whom drank off one bottle of champagne with him, and then called for another.
"No more—no more," said Elliston.
"Why man, one would think you were Cardinal Wolsey."
In about a fortnight after the Opera had closed we all arrived at Brighton.
Leinster gave way to his feelings, on the day I left town, by putting more wine into his glass than usual.
"Only say you like me better than Worcester," said His Grace, "and I shall go to Ireland in some comfort."
"I have forgotten Lord Worcester," said I.
"And you will be glad to see me on my return then?" asked Leinster.