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Thus a fortnight has elapsed, and to-night the star of Barnabas

Beverley, Esquire, has indeed attained its grand cliht he is to eat and drink with ROYALTY, and the Fashionable

World is to do hi the ordeal of

dressing, he would appear al triumph;

his brow is overcast, his cheek a little thinner and paler than of

yore, and he regards his resplendent ie in the mirror with

lack-lustre eyes

"Your cravat, sir," says Peterby, retreating a few paces and with

his head to one side the better to observe its effect, "your cravat

is, I fear, a trifle too redundant in its lower folds, and a little

severe, perhaps--"

"It is excellent, John! And you say--there is still no letter

from--from Hawkhurst?"

"No, sir, none," answered Peterby abstractedly, and leaning forward

to adentle pull to the flowered waistcoat "This coat,

sir, is very well, I think, and yet--y-e-es, perhaps it hter at the waist Still,

it is very well on the whole, and these flattened revers are an

innovation that will be quite the vogue before the week is out You

are satisfied with the coat, I hope, sir?"

"Perfectly, John, and--should a letter come while I am at the

banquet you will send it on--at once, John"