'Devil of a mess on the staircase, waiter,' said the stranger. 'Forms going up - carpenters coming down - lamps, glasses, harps. What's going forward?'

'Ball, Sir,' said the waiter. Ball for the benefit of a charity, Sir.'

'Many fine women in this town, do you know, Sir?' inquired Mr Tupman, with great interest.

'Splendid - capital. Kent, sir - everybody knows Kent - apples, cherries, hops, and women. Glass of wine, Sir!'

'With great pleasure,' replied Mr Tupman. The stranger filled, and emptied.

'I should very much like to go,' said Mr Tupman, resuming the subject of the ball, 'very much.'

'Tickets at the bar, Sir,' interposed the waiter; 'half-a-guinea each, Sir.'