Let me see. There was, first, my Lord Dunboozle, an Irish peer, and his
seven sons, the Honorable Messieurs Trumper (two only to dinner): there
was Count Mace, the celebrated French nobleman, and his Excellency Baron
von Punter from Baden; there was Lady Blanche Bluenose, the eminent
literati, author of "The Distrusted" "The Distorted," "The Disgusted,"
"The Disreputable One," and other poems; there was the Dowager Lady
Max and her daughter, the Honorable Miss Adelaide Blueruin; Sir Charles
Codshead, from the City; and Field-Marshal Sir Gorman O'Gallagher, K.A.,
K.B., K.C., K.W., K.X., in the service of the Republic of Guatemala:
my friend Tagrag and his fashionable acquaintance, little Tom Tufthunt,
made up the party. And when the doors were flung open, and Mr. Hock, in
black, with a white napkin, three footmen, coachman, and a lad whom Mrs.
C. had dressed in sugar-loaf buttons and called a page, were seen round
the dinner-table, all in white gloves, I promise you I felt a thrill of
elation, and thought to myself--Sam Cox, Sam Cox, who ever would have
expected to see you here?
After dinner, there was to be, as I said, an evening-party; and to this
Messieurs Tagrag and Tufthunt had invited many of the principal nobility
that our metropolis had produced.
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