1st Gent.  And affects absence of mind—­Puppy!

Mr. H.  Who spoke of absence of mind; did you, Madam?  How do you do, Lady Wearwell—­how do?  I did not see your ladyship before—­what was I about to say—­O—­absence of mind.  I am the most unhappy dog in that way, sometimes spurt out the strangest things—­the most mal-a-propos—­without meaning to give the least offence, upon my honor—­sheer absence of mind—­things I would have given the world not to have said.

1st Gent.  Do you hear the coxcomb?

1st Lady.  Great wits, they say—­

2d Lady.  Your fine geniuses are most given—­

3d Lady.  Men of bright parts are commonly too vivacious—­

Mr. H.  But you shall hear.  I was to dine the other day at a great Nabob’s that must be nameless, who, between ourselves, is strongly suspected of—­being very rich, that’s all.  John, my valet, who knows my foible, cautioned me, while he was dressing me, as he usually does where he thinks there’s a danger of my committing a lapsus, to take care in my conversation how I made any allusion direct or indirect to presents—­you understand me?  I set out double charged with my fellow’s consideration and my own; and, to do myself justice, behaved with tolerable circumspection for the first half-hour or so,—­till at last a gentleman in company, who was indulging a free vein of raillery at the expense of the ladies, stumbled upon that expression of the poet, which calls them “fair defects.”

1st Lady.  It is Pope, I believe, who says it.

Mr. H.  No, Madam; Milton.  Where was I?  Oh, “fair defects.”  This gave occasion to a critic in company, to deliver his opinion on the phrase—­that led to an enumeration of all the various words which might have been used instead of “defect,” as want, absence, poverty, deficiency, lack.  This moment I, who had not been attending to the progress of the argument (as the denouement will show) starting suddenly up out of one of my reveries, by some unfortunate connection of ideas, which the last fatal word had excited, the devil put it into my head to turn round to the Nabob, who was sitting next me, and in a very marked manner (as it seemed to the company) to put the question to him, Pray, sir, what may be the exact value of a lack of rupees?  You may guess the confusion which followed.

1st Lady.  What a distressing circumstance!

2d Lady.  To a delicate mind——­

3d Lady.  How embarrassing——­

4th Lady.  I declare, I quite pity you.

1st Gent.  Puppy!

Mr. H.  A Baronet at the table, seeing my dilemma, jogged my elbow; and a good-natured Duchess, who does everything with a grace peculiar to herself, trod on my toes at that instant:  this brought me to myself, and—­covered with blushes, and pitied by all the ladies—­I withdrew.