Have you heard the latest story of our friend Lyttleton? It appears
that at some large party he was seated at the card table next to Mrs
Beaumont who expressed herself very dissatisfied with the smallness of
the stakes. "In the great houses which I frequent," she explained
grandly to Lyttleton, "we constantly play for _paper_." "Madam,"
said Lyttleton in a solemn whisper, "In the little houses which
_I_ frequent, we play for note paper."


Meanwhile another event had been arranged to take place on that Birthday
night which for Mrs Stanhope proved so unfortunate, and had been announced
by her so early as May 30th previously:--


On the Birthday, all the friends of Mr Pitt have agreed to dine
together instead of on _his_ birthday, which is just past. The
first idea rose from the Opposition wishing to dine together on the
4th, but many objected. They then determined to celebrate Mr Pitt's
birthday on that day. Your father means to be there.


"Pitt dinners," as they were subsequently termed, forthwith became an
annual institution, and were held in all parts of the United Kingdom. John
Stanhope, who, in 1806, was staying in Edinburgh, attended one in that
city, and eight days later was invited to be present at another public
banquet designed to be commemorative of a very different event.

Throughout the months of May and June, public attention had been absorbed
by the famous trial of Lord Melville. So early as May 6th, Mrs Stanhope
had written delightedly:--"You will be glad to hear that the cross-