“Large whisky and small polly,” said the desperate young man.

This classic beverage within him, he was once more able to look the whole world in the eye. It was indeed a happy inspiration, for hardly had his courage risen, when at 5:27 by the hand of the clock among the greenery, a most distinguished figure emerged through a host of common persons and converged upon the scene.

Ping went the central organ of the young man’s being. The hour and the man had come to hand. And ye gods, there was Cinderella!

Retain your presence of mind, my lords and gentlemen, the authentic heroine is coming to you, as fast as her feet in very sensible number threes can bring her. And her trim form is inhabiting a plain blue serge costume, made by a very ordinary provincial tailor on very reasonable terms, and her mighty sensible head is surmounted by a hat, not a coalscuttle, nor a sauceboat, nor a beehive, but a form of headgear well behind the fashion two years ago in Manchester; and there is just a common strip of fur round her throat, because the weather east of Piccadilly is still blowing rather chilly, and she has to sing this evening.

She is coming past the tables, whose critical occupants are wondering why young ladies from the suburbs are admitted to this Valhalla which holds all that is best and brightest in the metropolis. Not, of course, that Arminius comes within the purview of this misdirected criticism; his far-flung gaze surmounted by a noble topper, astrachan collar inches deeper than the heir’s, white spats by Grant and Cockburn, and a very snappy pair of gloves.

The far-flung gaze of Arminius Wingrove has seen the vacant places at the table, although he affecteth not to notice ’em.

“How d’ye do, Lady Adela. When did you return from High Cliff?”

Rude girl slowly raised a fin.

“Awful good of you, Fat—Minnie, I mean—old boy.” The heir, stronger for his liquid sustenance, spoke in tones of deep emotion. “Sit here, Miss Caspar, won’t you? I know you are Miss Caspar, I’ve seen you so often lately.”

General introductions, which even the best society seems at present unable to dispense with.