'The Commissioner - head of the dockyard. He's a great man - a remarkably great man,' whispered the stranger in Mr Tupman's ear, as the organisers of the ball ushered Sir Thomas Clubber and family to the top of the room. The Honourable Wilmot Snipe, and other distinguished gentlemen crowded to render homage to the Misses Clubber; and Sir Thomas Clubber stood bolt upright, and looked majestically over his black kerchief at the assembled company.

'Mr Smithie, Mrs. Smithie, and the Misses Smithie,' was the next announcement.

'What's Mr Smithie?' inquired Mr Tracy Tupman.

'Something in the yard,' replied the stranger. Mr Smithie bowed deferentially to Sir Thomas Clubber; and Sir Thomas Clubber acknowledged the salute with conscious condescension.

'Lady Clubber took a telescopic view of Mrs. Smithie and family through her glasses and Mrs. Smithie stared in her turn at Mrs. Somebody-else, whose husband was not in the dockyard at all.

'Colonel Bulder, Mrs. Colonel Bulder, and Miss Bulder,' were the next arrivals.