"Oh! by the bye, Mrs. Felix Lorraine, how is Colonel Delmington?"—
Vivian redeemed his pledge: Mr. Cleveland arrived. It was the wish of the Marquess, if possible, not to meet his old friend till dinner-time. He thought that, surrounded by his guests, and backed by his bottle, certain awkward senatorial reminiscences might be got over. But, unfortunately, Mr. Cleveland arrived about an hour before dinner, and, as it was a cold autumnal day, most of the visitors, who were staying at Château Desir, were assembled in the drawing-room. The Marquess sallied forward to receive his guest with a most dignified countenance, and a most aristocratic step; but, before he had got half-way, his coronation pace degenerated into a strut, and then into a shamble, and with an awkward and confused countenance, half impudent, and half flinching, he held forward his left hand to his newly-arrived visitor. Mr. Cleveland looked terrifically
