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52 A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY
the turning down this street or that, the eating of this dish or the
other, may influence all the years and actions of a future life. Mankind
walks down the left-hand side of Regent Street instead of the
right, and meets a friend who asks him to dinner, and goes, and
finds the turtle remarkably good, and the iced punch very cool and
pleasant ; and, being in a merry, jovial, idle mood, has no objection
to a social rubber of whist—nay, to a few more glasses of that
cool punch. In the most careless, good-humoured way he loses a
few points; and still feels thirsty, and loses a few more points;
and, like a man of spirit, increases his stakes, to be sure, and just
by that walk down Regent Street is ruined for life. Or he walks
down the right-hand side of Regent Street instead of the left, and,
good heavens ! who is that charming young creature who has just
stepped into her carriage from Mr. Fraser's shop, and to whom and
her mamma Mr. Fraser has made the most elegant bow in the
world 1 It is the lovely Miss Moidore, with a hundred thousand
pounds, who has remarked your elegant figure, and regularly drives
to town on the first of the month, to purchase her darling Magazine.
You drive after her as fast as the hack-cab will carry you. She
reads the Magazine the whole way. She stops at her papa's
elegant villa at Hampstead, with a conservatory, a double coachhouse,
and a park-like paddock. As the lodge-gate separates you
from that dear girl, she looks back just once, and blushes. Erubuit,
salva est res. She has blushed, and you are all right. In a week
you are introduced to the family, and pronounced a charming young
fellow of high principles. In three weeks you have danced twentynine
quadrilles with her, and whisked her through several miles of
waltzes. In a month Mrs. O'Flaherty has flung herself into the
arms of her mother, just having come from a visit to the village
of Gretna, near Carlisle ; and you have an account at your banker's
ever after. What is the cause of all this good fortune ?—a walk on
a particular side of Regent Street. And so true and indisputable
is this fact, that there's a young north-country gentleman with
whom I am acquainted, that daily paces up and down the abovenamed
street for many hours, fully expecting that such an adventure
will happen to him ; for which end he keeps a cab in readiness at
the corner of Vigo Lane.
Now, after a dissertation in this history, the reader is pretty
sure to know that a moral is coming ; and the facts connected with
our tale, which are to be drawn from the above little essay on fate,
are simply these :—1. If Mr. Fitch had not heard Mr. Swigby
invite all the ladies, he would have refused Swigby's invitation,
and stayed at home. 2. If he had not been in the carriage, it is
quite certain that Miss Rosalind Macarty would not have been