“I was asked to dine with a Sir Dixie Hickson, a stiff, bluff, beef-eating sort of man, who was under some obligation to me, or I to him, I don’t know which.  Well, I forgot name, residence all but the day—­came home in a hurry, looked into the Court Guide, found a Sir Hicks Dixon, drove to his house, found a party assembled, bowed to a fat woman in a turban who sailed forward a la maitresse de maison, and simpered an apology, for Sir Hicks’, or Sir Dicks’, or whatever he might be, ‘unavoidable absence;’ I forget why, ’but did not like to put off the party, and hoped to look in in the evening.’ (Mind I had never seen the femme Hickson.) Down we went to dinner; a guest had failed, so there was a place for me; did not know a soul of the party; such a set of creatures were never before assembled on God’s earth!  Well, I ate, drank, and talked with the savages, told them some of my best lies, and was growing immensely popular, when in drops Sir Hicks from the country.  You should have seen us! we set each other like two pointers backing in a stubble, with a covey between them, while the femme Dixon kept fussing with an introduction—­’Sir Hicks, Sir James,—­Sir James, Sir Hicks!’ At last the light broke in, and I explained, and we laughed about it for a whole hour.  I was afraid when all was over I should have had to pay my debt of dinner to Sir Dixie; but the best of it is, I have not seen or heard more of either him or Sir Hicks.  It would have served me right if they had asked me to dinner once a week for ever visiting such people.  It is not likely that you should know them.”

There is much truth in the following satire upon fashionable travelling; though persons of fashion are not the only unimproved tourists.  In travelling, a man must carry half the entertainment along with him.

“‘Listen,’ said he, ’and you will hear more of the uses and advantages of travel.’

“Mr. Theobald at that instant was speaking to Lord Bolsover.

“’I will just tell you what I did.  Brussels, Frankfort, Berlin, Vienna, Munich, Milan, Naples and Paris; and all that in two months.  No man has ever done it in less.’

“‘That’s a fast thing; but I think I could have done it,’ said Lord Bolsover, ’with a good courier.  I had a fellow once, who could ride a hundred miles a day for a fortnight.’

“‘I came from Vienna to Calais,’ said young Leighton, ’in less time than the Government courier.  No other Englishman ever did that.’

“‘Hem!  I am not sure of that,’ said Lord Bolsover; ’but I’ll just tell you what I have done—­from Rome to Naples in nineteen hours; a fact, upon my honour—­and from Naples to Paris in six days.’

“‘Partly by sea?’

“‘No! all by land;’ replied Lord Bolsover, with a look of proud satisfaction.