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 that day; and had I done so, I should have been equally ignorant; for I'm a dull man, and always sleep at dinner. However, the subject was political, the claret flew round, and a stormy argument commenced. The Marquess was decidedly wrong, and was sadly badgered by the civil M. P. and the Professor. The host, who was of no party, supported his guest as long as possible, and then left him to his fate. The military M. P. fled to the drawing-room to philander with Mrs. Grey; and the man of science and the African had already retired to the intellectual idiotism of a May Fair "At Home." The novelist was silent, for he was studying a scene—and the poet was absent, for he was musing a sonnet.

The Marquess refuted, had recourse to contradiction, and was too acute a man to be insensible to the forlornness of his situation; when, at this moment, a voice proceeded from the end of the table, from a young gentleman,