In this happy state of independent existence I must have passed a considerable time, and as my total silence when spoken to, or my irrelevant answers, appeared to have tired out my companions, they left me to the uninterrupted enjoyment of my own pleasant imaginings.
"Do you hear, Lorrequer," at last said Trevanion; "are you asleep, my dear friend?
This gentleman has been good enough to invite us to breakfast to-morrow at St.Cloud." I looked up, and was just able to recognise the well-trimmed moustache of Mr.Edward Bingham, as he stood mumbling something before me.

"St.Cloud -- what of St.Cloud ?" said I.
"We have something in that quarter to-morrow." "What is it, O'Leary?
Can we go ?" "Oh! certainly--our engagement's an early one." "We shall accept your polite invitation with pleasure"-- Here he stooped over, and whispered something in my ear; what, I cannot say, but I know that my reply, now equally lost to me, produced a hearty fit of laughing to my two friends.
My next recollection is, finding myself in a crowded loge at the theatre.
It seems that O'Leary had acceded to a proposal from some of the other party to accompany them to the Porte St.Martin, where Mrs.Bingham and her daughter had engaged a box.

Amid all the confusion which troubled thoughts and wine produced in me, I could not help perceiving a studied politeness and attention on the part of Mr.Edward Bingham towards me; and my first sobering reflection came, on finding that a place was reserved for me beside Miss Bingham, into which, by some contrivance I can in no wise explain, I found myself almost immediately installed.

To all the excitements of champagne and punch, let the attractions of a French ballet be added, and, with a singularly pretty companion at your side, to whom you have already made sufficient advances to be aware that you are no longer indifferent to her, and I venture to predict, that it is much more likely your conversation will incline to flirting than political economy; and, moreover, that you make more progress during the performance of one single pas de deux upon the stage, than you have hitherto done in ten morning calls, with an unexceptionable whisker and the best fitting gloves in Paris.

Alas! alas! it is only the rich man that ever wins at rouge et noir.