when dining on board the flag-ship off Lisbon with Admiral Galton, he was
much startled by his host suddenly springing up and shouting out a
mysterious order, the terms of which seemed like a veiled insult. "Make
signal," thundered the Admiral, "for the _Kangaroo_ to get under way!" For
one instant the dismayed beau feared that this was a nautical form of
dismissal due to some offence of which he had unwittingly been guilty; but
his neighbour at table relieved his fears by explaining that the Admiral
was merely directing the immediate departure of one of the vessels of his
squadron, which, by a strange coincidence, bore the same name as his
honoured guest.

But a yet more celebrated leader of fashion mentioned by Mrs Stanhope as
being present at the ball given by the Duchess of Bolton was Lord
Alvanley. One of the accepted dandies in the same category as Lord
Petersham, the Duke of Argyle, Lords Foley and Worcester, Beau Brummell
and his great friend, Henry Pierrepont, Lord Alvanley had served with
distinction in the army, and further enjoyed the reputation of being one
of the wittiest men in Europe. Short and somewhat stout, with a small nose
and florid cheeks usually adorned with a lavish sprinkling of snuff, like
his rival Lord Petersham, he cultivated a lisp which accentuated the
humour of his utterances. He also adopted much the same method of
enhancing his value by indulging in certain peculiarities which, however
inconvenient to his fellows, appear to have been accepted by them with
surprising amiability. For instance, being fond of reading in bed, when he
at length felt sleep overpowering him, he would extinguish his candle by
the novel method of popping it alight under his bolster, or flinging it
into the middle of the room and taking a shot at it with his pillow--but
if the shot was unsuccessful, with a heavy sigh he left it to take its
chance. So well known, indeed, was this little habit of Lord Alvanley,
that hostesses who were anxious not to have their houses set on fire at