"Any foreign news, Fisherwick?" said Sir Charles. "I don't half like your last Spanish accounts."
"Ah, trust you country gentleman for croaking, and for finding out what is not to be liked; you are never satisfied."
"The last published details are anything but satisfactory. Have you any later accounts?"
"I do not know the date of the last you saw."
"They were dated the 23rd; you must have heard later news than that."
"We ought, certainly. For myself, I ask nothing more from Spain than a glass of this excellent sherry."
"Are you asking about the Spanish news?" said Mr. G. from the other end of the table. "Nothing can be worse; our friends are in full retreat, and, in fact, the game is up."
"Now is not that so like him?" exclaimed Fisherwick in an ecstasy. "I always say there is nothing like his candour and courage. I never saw such a man."
"At what time did you start this morning?"
"At seven; he's always ready, you know."
"You must have found it coolish work, starting in the rain and fog at that hour?"
"He never is cold," said the pinched and suffering Fisherwick; "he said it was as fine a morning as we could expect. He has the cheerfullest mind, and a power over it that I never saw equalled. What do you think he did the last stage?—slept like a top, though I told him when we changed horses that I was afraid we should be too late for dinner. 'We always are, my dear Fish,' he said, and went to sleep again with the greatest composure. He has such equable spirits."
"He looks well," said Lord Beaufort, "considering what a bore of a session it has been."
"Does not he?" said Fisherwick, triumphantly. "I am excessively glad your lordship has observed it; it is
