Alvanley had a delightful recklessness and laisser aller in everything.  His manner of putting out his light at night was not a very pleasant one for his host for the time being.  He always read in bed, and when he wanted to go to sleep he either extinguished his candle by throwing it on the floor in the middle of the room, and taking a shot at it with the pillow, or else quietly placed it, when still lighted, under the bolster.  At Badminton, and other country houses, his habits in this respect were so well known that a servant was ordered to sit up in the passage to keep watch over him.

Alvanley’s recklessness in money matters was almost incredible.  His creditors having become at last very clamorous, that able and astute man of the world, Mr. Charles Greville, with the energetic and bustling kindness in mixing himself up in all his friends’ affairs which still distinguishes him, had undertaken to settle those of Alvanley.  After going through every item of the debts, matters looked more promising than Mr. Greville expected, and he took his leave.  In the morning he received a note from Alvanley, to say that he had quite forgotten to take into account a debt of fifty-five thousand pounds.

SALLY LUNN
[Sidenote:  Captain Gronow]

Some fifty years back, or thereabouts, Albinia, Countess of Buckinghamshire, lived in her charming villa in Pimlico, surrounded by a large and beautiful garden.  It was here she used to entertain the elite of London society with magnificent fetes, bal champetres, and public breakfasts.  After one of those fetes, I called one morning to pay my respects; and, on ringing the bell, the servant ushered me into the conservatory, where I found Lady Harrington, the celebrated cantatrice Mrs. Billington, and the Duke of Sussex, who was said to be very much epris with the English “Catalani,” as she was called.

Mrs. Billington was extremely beautiful, though it was absurd to compare her to Catalani as a singer; but she was the favourite of the Duke of Sussex, which made her many friends.  During my visit, chocolate and tea-cakes were served to our party, when Lady Harrington related a curious anecdote about those cakes.  She said her friend Madame de Narbonne, during the emigration, determined not to live upon the bounty of foreigners, found means to amass money enough to enable her to open a shop in Chelsea, not far from the then fashionable balls of Ranelagh.

It had been the custom in France, before the Revolution, for young ladies in some noble families to learn the art of making preserves and pastry; accordingly, Madame de Narbonne commenced her operations under the auspices of some of her acquaintances; and all those who went to Ranelagh made a point of stopping and buying some of her cakes.  Their fame spread like lightning throughout the West End, and orders were given to have them sent for breakfast and tea in many great houses in the neighbourhood of St. James’s.  Madame de Narbonne employed a Scotch maid-servant to execute her orders.  The name of this woman was “Sally Lunn,” and ever since a particular kind of tea-cake has gone by that name.