When the repast was all over, and it was near time to move to the play, and Mrs.Gray had retired, and we were sitting ruminating rather silently over the last glasses of the port, Gray suddenly breaks the silence by slapping Goldmore on the shoulder, and saying, 'Now, Goldmore, tell me something.' 'What ?' asks Croesus.
'Haven't you had a good dinner ?' Goldmore started, as if a sudden truth had just dawned upon him.

He HAD had a good dinner; and didn't know it until then.

The three mutton-chops consumed by him were best of the mutton kind; the potatoes were perfect of their order; as for the rolypoly, it was too good.

The porter was frothy and cool, and the port-wine was worthy of the gills of a bishop.
I speak with ulterior views; for there is more in Gray's cellar.
'Well,' says Goldmore, after a pause, during which he took time to consider the momentous question Gray put to him--' 'Pon my word--now you say so--I--I have--I really have had a monsous good dinnah--monsous good, upon my ward! Here's your health, Gray my boy, and your amiable lady; and when Mrs.Goldmore comes back, I hope we shall see you more in Portland Place.' And with this the time came for the play, and we went to see Mr.Phelps at Sadler's Wells.

The best of this story (for the truth of every word of which I pledge my honour) is, that after this banquet, which Goldmore enjoyed so, the honest fellow felt a prodigious compassion and regard for the starving and miserable giver of the feast, and determined to help him in his profession.