CHAPTER XXII.
"Come like shadows, so depart."—Macbeth.
"How shall I yield you fit entertainment?"—Coleridge.
"A hemisphere of stars."—Byron, or the Morning Post.
"These written troubles of the brain."—Macbeth.
It had been settled, that the next evening, on their way to Mrs. Dorrick's, they should look in for an hour at the Athenæum, it being one of those Wednesdays when gentlemen invite ladies, to shew how admirably they can do without them, on the same principle that a well-supplied, though beleaguered city courts the presence of spies, and displays its strength and resources till surrounding enemies are fain to raise the siege from very hopelessness of success. Clubs are just a modification of monasteries—places of refuge from female attentions; and, as in former days, the finest architecture, the best situation, the most elaborate cuisine, the most refined cellar, are devoted to their use. The principal modern improvements are the omission of
