"Yes."
"Why, where is the sign now? have ye e'er a calendar—where's the sign, trow you?" Spencer continued saying.
"The what?" asked Sir William.
"The sign—Believe me there's a most secret power in that! Court any woman in the right sign, Sir William, as you have done, and you shall not miss."
"I am delighted to hear you say so!" replied Sir William.
"I believe he thinks you allude to the sign-post of an inn," whispered Lord Boileau, who had joined the party, "and it suits well enough to a dinner-giving man like him." Lady Tilney now prepared to leave the box; and taking the arm of the Duke of Mercington, was followed by all the men who had paid their visit and their court to her.
Sir William seemed to look with pride on the world behind him, as he mingled in the crowd; conscious of the mark of fashion which would from the morrow be emblazoned on his brow; and in the hurry of the throng, and in the quiet of his pillow, the glory of his future success and progress alike presented itself to him that night in a thousand forms.