tioner, announced, in a loud voice, " Mr. Haughton—Mr. Dar- rell."
At that latter name a sensation thrilled the assembly—the name so much in every one's mouth at that period nor least in the mouths of the great middle class, on whom—though the po- lite may call them " a sad mixture," cabinets depend—could not fail to be familiar to the ears of Mrs. Haughton's "visiting acquaintance," The interval between his announcement and his ascent from the hall to the drawing-room was busily filled up by murmured questions to the smiling hostess, " Darrell! what! the Darrell! Guy Darrell! greatest man of the day! A connec- tion of yours? Bless me, you don't say so?" Mrs. Haughton began to feel nervous. Was Lionel right? Could the man who had only been a lawyer at the back of Holborn really be, now, such a very, very great man—greatest man of the day? Nonsense!
"Ma'am," said one pale, puff-cheeked, flat-nosed gentleman, in a very large white waistcoat, who was waiting by her side till a vacancy in one of the two whist-tables should occur—" Ma'am, I'm an enthusiastic admirer of Mr. Darrell. You say he is a connection of yours? Present me to him."
Mrs. Haughton nodded flutteringly, for, as the gentleman closed his request, and tapped a large gold snuff-box, Darrell stood before her—Lionel close at his side, looking positively sheepish. The great man said a few civil words, and was glid- ing into the room to make way for the press behind him, when he of the white waistcoat, touching Mrs. Haughton's arm, and staring Darrell full in the face, said, very loud: " In these anx- ious times public men dispense with ceremony. I crave an in- troduction to Mr. Darrell." Thus pressed, poor Mrs. Haugh- ton, without looking up, muttered out, " Mr. Adolphus Poole— Mr. Darrell," and turned to welcome fresh comers.
"Mr. Darrell," said Mr. Poole, bowing to the ground, " this is an honor."
Darrell gave the speaker one glance of his keen eye, and thought to himself—" If I were still at the bar, I should be sorry to hold a brief for that fellow." However, he returned the bow formally, and bowing again at the close of a highly com- plimentary address with which Mr, Poole followed up his open- ing sentence, expressed himself "much flattered," and thought he had escaped; but wherever he went through the crowd, Mr. Poole contrived to follow him, and claim his notice by re- marks on the affairs of the day—the weather—the funds—the crops. At length Darrell perceived, sitting aloof in a corner,
