"Que est ce jeune seigneur? Who is this young hurl who comes knightly
to the 'Constantanople,' who is so proddigl of his gold (for indeed the
young gent would frequinly propoase gininwater to the company), and who
drinks so much gin?" asked Munseer Chacabac of a friend from the "Hotel
de l'Ail."

"His name is Lord Yardham," answered that friend. "He never comes here
but at night--and why?"

"Y?" igsclaimed Jools, istonisht.

"Why? because he is engaygd all day--and do you know where he is engaygd
all day?"

"Where?" asked Jools.

"At the Foring Office--NOW do you begin to understand?"--Jools trembled.

He speaks of his uncle, the head of that office.--"Who IS the head of
that offis?--Palmerston."

"The nephew of Palmerston!" said Jools, almost in a fit.

"Lor Yardham pretends not to speak French," the other went on. "He
pretends he can only say wee and commong porty voo. Shallow humbug!--I
have marked him during our conversations.--When we have spoken of the
glory of France among the nations, I have seen his eye kindle, and his
perfidious lip curl with rage. When they have discussed before him, the
Imprudents! the affairs of Europe, and Raggybritchovich has shown us
the next Circassian Campaign, or Sapousne has laid hare the plan of