dare say if it was with any of your club friends—any of your pot-house companions—you'd have no objection to venison. I say if—what do you mutter?
"Let it be venison?
"Very well. And now about the fish? What do you think of a nice turbot? No, Mr. Caudle, brill won't do—it shall be turbot, or there sha'n't be any fish at all. Oh, what a mean man you are, Caudle! Shall it be turbot?
"It shall?
"Very well. And now about the soup—now, Caudle, don't swear at the soup in that manner; you know there must be soup. Well, once in a way, and just to show our friends how happy we've been, we'll have some real turtle.
"No, you won't, you'll have nothing but mock?
"Then, Mr. Caudle, you may sit at the table by yourself. Mock-turtle on a wedding-day! Was there ever such an insult? What do you say?
"Let it be real, then, for once?
"Ha, Caudle! As I say, you were a very different person fourteen years ago.
"And, Caudle, you'll look after the venison? There's a place I know, somewhere in the City, where you get it beautiful! You'll look to it?
"You will?
"Very well.
"And now who shall we invite?
"Who I like?
"Now, you know, Caudle, that's nonsense; because I only like whom you like. I suppose the Prettymans must come? But understand, Caudle, I don't have Miss Prettyman: I'm not going to have my peace of
