"But what can they do? London is so large."
"Yes," said La Grange, "it is of such immense grandeur; and without a cab how can you bring yourself out of the affair? Suppose yourself with a visit to make in the high end of Portland Place, how would you get there from the Travellers'?"
"By Regent Street," said Mr. G., smiling.
"But how? I beg a thousand pardons."
"On foot."
"Oh, impossible," said Lady Portmore; "it would kill any of the young men of the present day to attempt such a walk; it must be four miles at least, or two, or some immense distance. No, I dare say a cab is rather an extravagance; but I own I think it an absolute necessity."
"Yes," said Lord Beaufort; "I do not see what a man is to do in London without a cab."
"No," said Ernest, "I quite agree with you; it is as indispensable as a coat."
"Exactly so," said La Grange.
"I am quite convinced of the fact by this unanimity of opinion," answered Mr. G. "I am only thankful I was born before this fatal cabriolet obligation was invented, and that I am able to walk every day from Grosvenor Square to Downing Street, and back again."
"But if it rains?"
"I put on my greatcoat, and put up my umbrella; and it is curious that I am generally accompanied by some man of my own standing, and that at every crossing we are either splashed or nearly run over by a tribe of young boys going nodding along in one of those puppet-shows on wheels. However, if it is necessary, I say no more; but I am not surprised to hear of so many young men deeply in debt"; and so saying he walked off to his red boxes and his Fisherwick.
"It is very sad, certainly, and G. may be partly right,"
