They went to Covent Garden that evening, and to the Haymarket the next; and subsequently to public assemblies:  Madge everywhere arresting attention, and exciting whispers and elbowings among observers wherever she passed.  At the public balls, she was asked to dance, by fellows of whom neither she nor Ned approved, but who, Ned finally came to urge, might be useful acquaintances as leading to better ones.  But she found all of them contemptible, and would not encourage any of them.

“If we could only get an invite to some private entertainment, the thing would be done in a jiffy,” said Ned, “but damn it, you won’t lead on any of these fellows—­sure they must know ladies to whom they would mention you.”

“I shouldn’t think much of ladies that sought acquaintances on their recommendation.”

“Why, curse it, we must begin somewhere, to get in.”

“If we began where these could open the doors, I warrant we shouldn’t get very far in.”

“Rat me if I understand why the men that are taken with you at the play, and elsewhere—­real gentlemen of quality, some of ’em—­never try to follow you up through me.  I’ve put myself in their way, the Lord knows.  Maybe they think I’m your husband.  Curse it, there is a difficulty!  If you walked alone, in St. James Park, or past the clubs—?”

“You scoundrel, do you think I’ve come to that?”

Her look advised him not to pursue his last suggestion.  By this time his expectations from their public appearances together had been sadly dampened.  They must make acquaintances; creditable ones, that is to say, for of another kind he had enough and to spare.

But at last, after some weeks, during which he remained unapproached, and at the end of which he came to a belated perception of the insuperable barrier between the elect and the undesirable, and of his own identity with the latter class, he decided he must fall back upon his friends for what they might be worth.  He had undergone many snubs in his efforts to thrust himself upon fine gentlemen in taverns, coffee-houses, and gaming-places.  As for Madge, her solitude had been mitigated by her enjoyment of plays and sights, of the external glimpses of that life to which her entrance seemed impossible.

Ned began therefore to bring his associates to their lodgings:  chiefly, a gambling barrister of Lincoln’s Inn, a drunken cashiered captain of marines, and a naval surgeon’s mate with an unhealthy outbreak on his face.  One meeting with each rascal sufficed to make Madge deny her presence upon his next visit.  At this Ned raged, declaring, that these gentlemen, though themselves in adverse circumstances, had relations and friends among the quality or the wealthy.  And at length he triumphantly made good his assertion by introducing a youth to whom the barrister had introduced him, and who, he whispered to Madge, though not blessed with a title, was the heir in prospect of an immense fortune.  It came out that he was the son of a prosperous fishmonger in the city.