that is presented to them, while those of others (of which number
was Harley), like the mirrors of the ladies, have a wonderful effect
in bettering their complexions. Through such a medium perhaps he
was looking on his present companion.

When they had finished their walk, and were returning by the corner
of the Park, they observed a board hung out of a window signifying,
"An excellent ORDINARY on Saturdays and Sundays." It happened to be
Saturday, and the table was covered for the purpose.

"What if we should go in and dine here, if you happen not to be
engaged, sir?" said the young gentleman. "It is not impossible but
we shall meet with some original or other; it is a sort of humour I
like hugely."

Harley made no objection, and the stranger showed him the way into
the parlour.

He was placed, by the courtesy of his introductor, in an arm-chair
that stood at one side of the fire. Over against him was seated a
man of a grave considering aspect, with that look of sober prudence
which indicates what is commonly called a warm man. He wore a
pretty large wig, which had once been white, but was now of a
brownish yellow; his coat was one of those modest-coloured drabs
which mock the injuries of dust and dirt; two jack-boots concealed,
in part, the well-mended knees of an old pair of buckskin breeches;
while the spotted handkerchief round his neck preserved at once its
owner from catching cold and his neck-cloth from being dirtied.
Next him sat another man, with a tankard in his hand and a quid of
tobacco in his cheek, whose eye was rather more vivacious, and whose