WYLDER'S HAJVD.
219
face of the Captain crossed his eye; and two or three
times, when the beautiful young lady's attention seemed
to wander from his agreeable conversation, he thought he
detected her haughty eye moving in the same direction.
So he looked that way too; and although he could see
nothing noticeable in Stanley's demeanor, he could have
felt it in his heart to box his ears.
Therefore, I don't think he was quite so careful as he
might have been to spare Lake that jolt upon the elbow,
which coming from a rival in a moment of public triumph
was not altogether easy to bear like a Christian.
"Some grapes, please." said Lake, to the young lady
behind the table.
"Oh, uncle! Is that you, Lake ? — beg pardon; but
you are so like my poor dear uncle, Langton. I wish you'd
let me adopt you for an uncle. He was such a pretty fel-
low, with his fat white cheeks and long nose, and he look-
ed half asleep. Do, pray, Uncle Lake; I should like it
so," and the Baronet, who was, what some people would
term, perhaps, vulgar, winked over his glass at the bloom-
ing confectioner, who tittered over her shoulder at the
handsome Baronet's charming banter.
The girl having turned away to titter, forgot Lake's
grapes; so he helped himself, and leaning against the ta-
ble, looked superciliously upon Sir Harry, who was not
to be deterred by the drowsy gaze of contempt with which
the Captain retorted his angry " chaff."
"Poor uncle died of love, or chicken-pock, or some-
thing, at forty. You're not ailing, Nunkie, are you?
You do look wofully sick, though; too bad to lose a sec-
ond uncle at the same early age. You're near forty, eh,
Nunkie? and such a pretty fellow! You'll take care of -
me in your will, Nunkie, won't you? Come, what will
you leave me; not much tin, I'm afraid."