BERKELEY 
 
 LIBRARY | 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 
 
STANLEY THORN: 
 
 BI 
 
 HENRY COCKTON. 
 
 AUTHOR OP " VALENTINE VOX THE VENTRILOQUIST," " MASTER 
 
 PASSION," &C., &C. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED -WITH STEEL ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY LEA, 22, WARWICK LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
Cl 
 
 
 STANLEY THORX. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PORTRAYS, WITH OTHEE FEATURES OF IMPORTANCE, THE EABLY 
 CHARACTERISTICS OF OUR ITEBO. 
 
 To those \vVio had not the honour of being extremely intimate with 
 Alderman Thorn, it will be necessary to explain that he was a niau 
 of considerable wealth, derived chiefly from a series of successful 
 speculations in hops; that he married very early, with the immediate 
 view of procuring the means of entering iuto those speculations ; 
 that at tbe expiration of fifteen years from the date of his marriage 
 certificate he was generously and formally presented with an heir, 
 whom he caused to be baptized in the name of Stanley, in honour ol" 
 an aristocratic friend of that name ; that he lived in purely alder- 
 manic styb until he arrived at the fige of fifty-four, when he ucterly 
 repudiated i<ot only all intoxicating liquors, but all animal food 
 save that which existed invisibly in vegetable* and water ; that euch 
 total change of diet at his age brought on an almost perpetur.l 
 shivering, which, however, failed to induce him to forego his high 
 resolve, but which gradually killed him ; that while some hold a minute 
 post mortem examination to be essential to the promotion of the science 
 of pathology, others held it to be essential by no means, it being 
 clear that his living had caused his death, or, in other words, that 
 his alimentary canal had been completely frozen over ; and finally, 
 that he was buried with appropriate pomp, without the ice being 
 sacrilegiously broken. 
 
 Having performed the pleasing duty of placing these afflicting 
 details upon record to the perfect satisfaction, it is to be hoped, even 
 of those by whom this worthy individual was held in hi^h esteem, 
 it now becomes strictly proper to state, that at the period of the 
 lamentable dissolution of the alderman, Stanley had just completed 
 his fifteenth year, and that he had then been for five years the absolute 
 mabter of the house. Every member of the establishment feared 
 him. No servant could remain in it three consecutive months, when 
 he happened to be at home, with the exception of a boy, a somnam- 
 bulist, whom Stanley called Bob, and who had become so attached to 
 him, that he never appeared to be truly happy in his absence. This 
 boy was an immense favourite with Stanley, and a fine time Bob had 
 of it in consequence. The servants avenged Stanley's insults upon 
 
 456 
 
2 STANLEY 
 
 him, but not in Stanley's presence; for, albeit he assumed to himself 
 the inalienable right of horsewhipping him daily if he pleased, if he 
 saw any other creature touch him, or menace him even with a word, 
 he would spring at the assailant like a tiger ; and if he found it im- 
 possible to conquer alone, he would make Bob help him ; and if 
 both were unable to manage it then, they would retreat to devise a 
 series of secret assaults, which never by any chance failed to reduce the 
 enemy to submission. He gloried in conquering those whose physical 
 strength was superior to his own ; and, in order to qualify .himself 
 for this glory, his chief delight, when he had no immediate conquest 
 to achieve, was to reduce Bob ostensibly to a mummy, by making 
 him stand before him with the gloves, of course giving Bob per- 
 fectly fair play, although he dared to retreat no more than he would 
 have dared to sell his soul, until Stanley himself became exhausted, 
 which seldom, indeed, happened until Bob was nearly blind. 
 
 Bob used at first to remonstrate against being thus victimised ; 
 for really it was not very often that he could see with any pleasurable 
 degree of distinctness, and never by any chance, when Stanley was 
 at home, was he free from a cut lip, a swollen nose, or a black eye ; 
 but when he found all remonstrances utterly vain, he very valiantly 
 made up his mind to do his best, and eventually became rather par- 
 tial to the exercise ; for it did occur occasionally that he broke fairly 
 through his opponent's guard, and if he succeeded in giving him but 
 a scratch he was content, although in such a case Stanley never 
 dreamt of leaving off until Bob became densely deaf to time. 
 
 This was, however, by no means the extent of the penalty inflicted 
 upon Bob : on every such occasion he was discharged. His mistress 
 oouid endure to see him knocked about, she could even endure to 
 see him pommelled, even to a jelly, with the most exemplary forti- 
 tude ; but there are at all times bounds to human endurance, and 
 hers could not go one step beyond that. She could not bear to see 
 the sweet features of her own dear Stanley disfigured by even a 
 scratch. ; and hence, whenever a scratch appeared upon his counten- 
 ance, Bob, with due promptitude, had his discharge. 
 
 On no such occasion, however, did he go beyond the coach-house. 
 He was always reinstated within the hour. Stanley invariably in- 
 sisted upon his being recalled, and, having gained his point, invariably 
 found him in the carriage asleep. 
 
 Now it is a most extraordinary fact a fact which, however, is not 
 more extraordinary than solemn that Mrs. Thorn could refuse 
 Stanley nothing, because Stanley would never tolerate a refusal from 
 her lips. He had what he desired, because he would have it : that 
 reason was in all cases held to be sufficient. It is true she would 
 endeavour to persuade him to forego any demand, the direct tendency 
 of which she conceived to be pernicious ; but eventually such de- 
 mand, however unreasonable might be its character, was conceded, 
 because the concession was a thing upon which he had set his soul. 
 The worthy alderman, during the last five years of his existence, 
 would have nothing to do with him whatever. He had very horrid 
 suspicions! Strong efibrtshad been made to convince him that the beau- 
 tiful boy was in reality his very image, that he had the dear 
 
STARLET THORK. 3 
 
 alderman's chin, the dear alderman's mouth, the dear alderman's 
 eyes, nose, and spirit ; but the alderman himself either could not or 
 would not perceive those strong points of resemblance which were 
 insisted upon with so much eloquence and warmth ; and hence, 
 although he never went quite so far as to wound the susceptible 
 feelings of his lady by giving direct expressions to his views on the 
 point, he unhappily had strong suspicions ! 
 
 The alderman had tried, however, with desperate zeal to obtain 
 the mastery over Stanley ; but this he had never been able to accom- 
 plish, not even for a day : the failure of every effort had indeed been 
 single and complete. If in a moment of anger he happened to strike 
 him, Stanley would not only strike him again, but keep up a fierce 
 fire of books, glasses, plates, onaments, stones, in short, anything 
 which happened to be at hand. If the alderman locked him up, he 
 would break every table, every chair, and every window in the room ; 
 and if, after a desperate struggle, and it could only be after a des- 
 perate struggle, he succeeded in tying him down, he would remain 
 on being released very quiet till tea-time, when (no matter how 
 many friends might be present, in his view the more the merrier, 
 because of the increased quantity of ammunition) he would deli- 
 berately take his position at the table, and pelt the worthy alderman 
 with the cups, while explaining very gravely to those around who, of 
 course, were quite shocked that the whole thing was done in self- 
 defence ; and these highly irregular proceedings he would repeat just 
 as often as he happened to be punished. If sent away, he would 
 immediately return ; for, as he justly held that to be a species of 
 punishment, he very naturally felt it to be a duty incumbent upon 
 him to have his revenge ; and when he did return, of course the 
 worthy alderman knew it, for he found himself subjected at every 
 point to annoyances of the most galling character. Sometimes he 
 and Bob would get all the worthy alderman's boots, wigs, hats, and 
 umbrellas, to make a bonfire in the stable ; at other times he would 
 make Bob throw water into the bed of the worthy alderman, or 
 establish a vast number of nettles between the sheets with surpassing 
 ingenuity. In fact, he regarded the worthy alderman as being neither 
 more nor less than his natural enemy. 
 
 " What on earth am I to do with him ?" said that worthy person 
 to his friend, Mr. Sharpe, just before he gave Stanley up wholly. 
 
 " Do with him !" exclaimed his friend, " do with him : Give him 
 a sound, undeniable flogging, and repeat the dose daily." 
 
 " But flogging makes him worse. He considers it an insult he 
 will have his revenge." 
 
 " Eevenge !" cried Mr. Sharpe, very contemptuously, " revenge ! A 
 lad like that talk of revenge ! If I had him, I'd cut him to the very 
 back-bone!" And Mr. Sharpe looked particularly fierce, and shook 
 his head with an air of inflexible determination, as he added, " do 
 you think I'd be mastered by a young wretch like that ?" 
 
 " My dear friend," rejoined the alderman, " depend upon this, 
 that he is not to be tamed in that way. I have tried it, my dear friend, 
 I have tried it till I'm sick." 
 
 " "Well, why don't you send him to school ? "Why don't you place 
 
4 STANLEY THOE5-. 
 
 him under some severe master, who will undertake to bring him to 
 his senses ?" 
 
 " I have done so. Twenty severe masters have undertaken the 
 task, and what has been the consequence ? Why, the moment they 
 have commenced their severity, he has pelted them with ink- 
 stands, and started." 
 
 " Of course you have not taken him back on these occasions ?" 
 . " In several instances I have ; but, Q-od bless your soul, it was of 
 no use ! Some refused to receive him again ; while those who con- 
 sented to give him another trial were never able to keep him above 
 a day." 
 
 " I only wish that I had the management of him, that's all." 
 
 " I wish you had with all my soul !" exclaimed the alderman, with 
 unexampled fervour. " Your bitterest enemy, my friend, could wish 
 no worse." 
 
 " I'd tame him !" rejoined Mr. Sharpe ; " I'd exercise the little 
 rampant devil that's within him !" 
 
 " But how would you go to work ? how would you act ? What 
 on earth would you do with him ?" 
 
 " What would I do with him ! Will he not listen to reason ?" 
 
 " To be sure he will ; that's the worst of it. He'll sit down and 
 argue the point with you for hours; he'll tell you candidly, that if 
 you insult him, he feels himself bound to avenge the insult ; that his 
 honour his honour, my friend ! prompts him to retaliate ; that he 
 is prepared at any time to sign a treaty of peace, to the effect that 
 if you cease to annoy him, he will cease to annoy you ; and that in 
 the event of such treaty being violated, of course he and you are 
 again at open war." 
 
 " He is rather a queer customer to deal with," observed Mr. 
 Sharpe. 
 
 " He is a queer customer. You'd be very apt to think so if you 
 did but know all." 
 
 "And yet," said Mr. Sharpe, after a pause, during which he had 
 looked very mysterious, " I'd be bound still to tame him. Why, if 
 he were a boy of mine !" Mr. Sharpe said no more, but he shook 
 his head with unspeakable significance, and took a very deep inspira- 
 tion through his teeth. 
 
 "Well, ray friend, well" urged the alderman, who wished him 
 to proceed " and if he were your son, what would you do with 
 him ?" 
 
 " Do ! I'd do something with him. I'd teach him the differ- 
 ence ! Do you think that he should ever get the upper band of 
 me r" 
 
 " But how would you manage it ? that's the great point. I'll 
 just explain to you the way in which he acted last week. On Mon- 
 day I simply said to him while at dinner, that he ought to be ashamed 
 of his conduct, when he seized the tureen, and sent the whole of the 
 soup over me in an instant. I chastised him, of course I chastised 
 him and he upset the table. I rushed at him again ; but having 
 kept me at bay for some considerable time with the fragments of 
 the dishes, he darted from the room. That night I found a number 
 
- x V .>> jj x 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 5 
 
 of nettles in my bed, and, on jumping out in agony, I discovered 
 that my bed-room had scarcely a single pane of glass in it : and in 
 the morning I had neither a boot nor a hat to put on. I got hold 
 of him by stratagem, and shook him with just violence, and what do 
 you think he did ? Why he instantly went into the pantry, got a 
 basketful of eggs, and popped them at me, until really I was in such 
 a state ! I ran after him; but, no ! he kept up the fire, carrying 
 his basket of ammunition upon his arm. Well, I caught him again in 
 the course of the day, and locked him up in the cellar, and there he 
 set to work, and I do not know ho.v many bottles of wine he broke. 
 I heard the crash, and went and shook the young scoundrel :;gain 
 I could not help it and again lie set to work. He was busy all thr 
 morning. I feared that he was employed in some mischief; indeed, ] 
 was as certain of it as I was of my own existence. Accordingly, as 1 
 was enjoying my usual nap after dinner on the sofa, he quietly crept, 
 into the room with a tankard of treacle, the whole of which nr 
 poured over me so gradually, commencing at my knees, that I did 
 not awake until he had literally covered me, and before I could ris-.- 
 he had rushed from the room. My friend," continued the alderman, 
 with due solemnity, " I was in such a pickle ! Yet what could I do ? 
 What is to be done with such a fellow ; I knew perfectly well that 
 until I discontinued my chastisement he would never cease to 
 annoy me. Of course it's very hard, I know and feel it, as a 
 father, to be particularly hard : but then what could I have done 
 in such a case ? What would you, my friend, have done under 
 the self-same circumstances ?" 
 
 "What would I have done ?" cried Mr. Sharpe, very indignantly. 
 " I can scarcely tell what I should not have done." 
 
 And this proved the sum total of the advice the worthy alderman 
 obtained from Mr. Sharpe ; for although the gentleman naturally 
 fancied that if Stanley had been a son of his he would have 
 tamed him, he at the same time felt utterly unable to explain 
 how. 
 
 From that period the worthy alderman gave Stanley up. He would 
 have nothing more to do with him : he turned him over at once to the 
 surveillance of his mother, who adored him, and by whom the pristine 
 waywardness of his disposition had been fostered"! 
 
 " My dear, my sweet boy ! my own Stanley !" she would ex- 
 claim after a fit of desperation on his part, "you know how dearly, 
 how fondly I love you. JS~ow do not, pray do not indulge in these 
 frantic bursts of passion. Indeed, indeed they will injure your 
 health, my love, 1 am perfectly sure that they will. Come, promise 
 me now that you will in future avoid them do promise, there's a 
 dear !" 
 
 " You must promise me, mother, that in future you will not pro- 
 voke me !" 
 
 "I will not indeed I will not !" she would exclaim. " My heart 
 beats with joy when you are happy." 
 
 The tears would then start, she would embrace and fondle him 
 like a child, and arrange his fine hair, which flowed in ringlets upon 
 his shoulders, and having, moreover, lavished a thousand kisses 
 
6 STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 upon his brow, she would gaze upon her " own sweet Stanley," the 
 " pride of her soul," with an expression of rapture. 
 
 And he was an extremely handsome youth, tall, and strikingly 
 symmetrical ; his eyes were of the most brilliant character, his 
 features of the finest conceivable cast, while his presence was 
 elegant, and even then commanding. That such a mother should 
 almost have idolised him cannot be deemed marvellous. She could 
 not, however, disguise from herself that she had from his earliest 
 infancy cherished that spirit, which she now tried in vain to control. 
 Nor was it, under the circumstances, at all extraordinary that from 
 the age of fifteen he should have considered himself a man. He 
 woiild suffer no one with impunity to designate him even a youth ; 
 and if any person applied to him the term " young gentleman," that 
 person was made at once to feel the full force of his displeasure. 
 The servants had been of course accustomed to style him Mr. 
 Stanley ; but that servant was uhblest who happened to pronounce 
 the name of Stanley after the alderman's dissolution. He would 
 not permit it. " I pledge you my honour as a gentleman," he would 
 say, " that if you dare to address me again as Mr. Stanley, I'll kick 
 you to the devil." 
 
 It cannot hence be rationally expected that with these views and 
 feelings, his grief at the period of the alderman's death was very 
 loud or very deep. He wore " the trappings and the suits of woe," 
 as a purely social matter of course ; but he hailed that period as the 
 commencement of the era of his importance as a man. For albeit 
 nearly the whole of the alderman's property, real and personal, had 
 been left to the widow, he knew perfectly well that he should have 
 just as much command over it, as it" it had been bequeathed absolutely 
 to him. 
 
 Stanley, however, was by no means content. He felt at first ex- 
 tremely cjauche. He reflected that he was, after all, but the son of 
 an alderman, and that reflection, let it come when it might, never 
 failed to inflict a wound upon his pride. He was a youth of keen 
 perception. He saw around him those whom he conceived to be 
 more elegant, more composed, more au fait to etiquette, more refined. 
 He felt unable to endure this. He was perpetually tormented with 
 the idea. He listened, therefore, for the first time, to the sug- 
 gestion made by his mother, that he should pass at least two years 
 at Eton. As a scholar he was passable ; but then he had only been 
 at private schools, while those who shone in his judgment most 
 brilliantly, had been to Oxford, or Cambridge, or Eton, at least. 
 He conversed on the subject again and again, and at length became 
 convinced that he ought to commence life in reality, as an Etonian. 
 It happened that the majority of his associates had been to Eton ; 
 and as they failed not to speak in high praise of the school, to ex- 
 plain that it had turned out by far the greater proportion of the 
 most distinguished men of the age ; that none but Etonians were 
 esteemed perfect men of the world, and that it was in fact far more 
 famous for that than for absolute learning, he eventually resolved 
 upon going to Eton expressly in order to gain caste. 
 
 When this highly laudable resolution had beea delicately com- 
 
STANLEY THOBX. / 
 
 municated to the widow, she was delighted. She saw at ones in 
 Stanley a great man in embryo ; and when she had been advised of 
 the assumed fact that almost all the most distinguished men of the 
 day were Etonions, she, of course, looked on it as abundantly clear 
 that all Etonians became distinguished men. This corollary was, in. 
 her judgment, really so natural and correct that, had five thousand 
 pounds been required for the start, she would have given that sum 
 with unspeakable pleasure. Her Stanley her own Stanley, was 
 about to become an Etonian ! She did not pretend to understand 
 much about it, but she nevertheless conceived, from his description, 
 that to be an Etonian would at once enable Stanley to associate with 
 the sons of the most distinguished. 
 
 Stanley himself had, however, still some misgivings on the subject. 
 It was true he had read Virgil, and a little of Livy ; he could, more- 
 over versify a little ; but he could not expect to be placed above 
 the fourth form. He had heard of fagging, he had heard also of 
 flogging ; and he knew if they attempted to fag or flog him ! No 
 matter it was settled : he had made up his mind to go, and go he 
 would, if it were only to enable him to say that he had been. 
 
 Accordingly every thing which could be deemed essential was 
 prepared, and* the preliminaries necessary to enable him to commence 
 at the ensuing half, having been most politely arranged by Mr. 
 Seymour, the father of one of Stanley's most gentlemanlike asso- 
 ciates, he started with a purse sufficiently heavy, but with a heart 
 not perhaps quite sufficiently light. 
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 STANLEY AT ETON. 
 
 THE first person to whom Stanley was introduced on his arrival was 
 Alfred Julian, whose friends were on terms of close intimacy with 
 the Seymours. Alfred, who was a fine high-toned boy precisely 
 the sort of fellow to meet Stanley's views undertook to initiate him 
 into all the deep mysteries of the school ; but he was, most unfor- 
 tunately, himself in the fourth form, and hence could not, by having 
 his friend for a fag nominally, save him from the tyranny of the fifth 
 and the sixth. He therefore explained to him at once, that he really 
 must make up his mind to become a fag, seeing that all, no matter 
 how high might be the position of their families, were compelled 
 to submit to it, and that it was held to be by no means humiliating 
 or degrading, but in reality a stimulus to exertion, inasmuch as those 
 who took the right view of the matter strove, in consequence, to 
 work their way up as soon as possible. 
 
 " All social distinctions here," added Julian, " are in this respect 
 levelled : for example, Jolifle, Yilliers, Cleveland, Cholmondeley, and 
 Howard, to whom I shall introduce you, for they are all at our 
 
8 STANLEY TflOllN. 
 
 Dame's are the fags of Frogmorton, although he is a plebeian, 
 while they are connected with the first families in the kingdom. We 
 must not, therefore, feel ourselves degraded when called to act like 
 them." 
 
 "Well, I shall see," returned Stanley. "I'll do as the rest do, 
 if possible." 
 
 He and Julian accordingly proceeded to Dame Johnson's, where 
 they met with about twenty light-hearted, merry fellous. 
 
 He had net, however, been here more than an hour when he was 
 assailed by the older boys by a number of interrogatories which he 
 held to be particularly impertinent. By Dashall especially was he 
 thus persecuted, for Dashall was one of those who, panting to show 
 off their power and importance, made the most of the three days 
 before the arrival of the strapping fellows of the fifth and sixth 
 forms. Stanley did not by any means approve of this practice, and 
 therefore answered rather pettishly, which had the effect of making 
 them persevere the more, for, although they saw something in his 
 general tone and manner, which in a slight degree checked them, 
 they held the process of teasing a new boy to be a right prescriptive 
 and inviolable. 
 
 " My good fellow," said Stanley, addressing Dashall, who would 
 not give in, " don't annoy me. I am anxious to make friends of all, 
 and have therefore no desire to quarrel with you." 
 
 " What ! quarrel with me !" exclaimed the highly indignant 
 Dashall, with an air of astonishment the most intense. " No desire 
 to quarrel with me ! Come, I like that : it's cool very cool for a 
 new one. Perhaps you would like to take it out, old fellow ? Do 
 you fancy yourself at all with the gloves ?" 
 
 Stanley eyed him with an expression of contempt, although he 
 made no reply ; but that terror of the juniors the mighty Dashall 
 in a state of extreme ignorance of the chamber-practice Stanley 
 had had with Bob, distinctly intimated to him, and that in terms the 
 most powerful at his command, that if he would only wait until he 
 had pulled on his boots, he would instantly accommodate him with 
 a turn. 
 
 Stanley smiled ; but Dashall, whose blood was up, looked very 
 fierce, and gave his opponent such occasional glances as he fancied 
 might wither him, while the juniors, whom the invincible Dashall 
 had awed, really looked with an eye of pity upon Stanley, not, 
 however, unmixed with astonishment at his apparently imperturbable 
 calmness. 
 
 ".Now, my fine fellow!" cried Dashali, having drawn on his 
 boots. " If I take a little bit of the bounce out of you, it will do 
 you precisely as much good as physic." 
 
 Some of the juniors laughed at the sparkling wit of Dashall, 
 while others advised Stanley to have nothing to do with him, he was 
 such a desperate hitter; but Stanley, of course, remained unmoved, 
 and Julian, who was anxious to ascertain what his new friend was 
 made of, did by no means endeavour to dissuade him from accepting 
 the challenge. 
 
 " Now then ! are you afraid ?" cried the imperious Dashall, 
 
STANJLE5T THOEK. 9 
 
 for really that desperate young man had become very impatient ; 
 and he opened his shoulders and struck at the air, and ascertained 
 the precise firmness of his muscles ; but Stanley, who was in no 
 sort of haste, made certain inquiries having reference to the character 
 of his opponent, in order to learn what amount of punishment he 
 should be justified in inflicting. 
 
 Julian could not but admire Stanley's coolness ; and having in- 
 ferred hence that there must be some sterling stuff in him, he became 
 nearly as eager for the fray, as the fiery Dashall himself. "Well, the 
 gloves were produced, and Stanley rose. He buttoned his coat simply ; 
 but Dashall, bent on doing some tremendous execution, stripped in 
 un instant, and drew on the gloves. 
 
 " Now," said Stanley, " I have no wish to hurt you ; but if you 
 persist in having a turn, you'll have yourself alone to blame." 
 
 " You don't wish to hurt me !" cried Dashall. " Grood again ! 
 Well, I wish I may live ! What next ? You don't wish to hurt me !" 
 he repeated, for really he was very much amused, and he laugheu 
 very loudly, and the juniors joined him very merrily. 
 
 " Well, come, go to work !" said Julian at length. " You are both 
 sure to win. ' Possunt quid posse videntur.' ' 
 
 In this particular instance, however, the combatants respectively 
 held Virgil to be wrong ; and to prove that he was wrong they im- 
 mediately commenced, Dashall striking one of the most imposing 
 attitudes of which he was capable, while Stanley simply held up his 
 guard. 
 
 Dashall, even at the commencement, did not much admire the 
 unflinching firmness of Stanley's eye. He, notwithstanding, felfc 
 quite certain to beat him, and sprang about, and feinted, and per- 
 formed a great variety of extraordinary antics, displaying at each 
 spring his agility and science to an extent altogether remarkable. 
 On the other hand, Stanley kept quite quiet ; he felfc that by far the 
 best course he could pursue the course calculated to save him a 
 world of trouble in future, was that of allowing the great Dashall 
 to tire himself first, and then to honour him with a few of his 
 straightforward favours, with the view of convincing him firmly of 
 his error. He therefore stood for some considerable time on the 
 defensive, while Dashall was twisting and turning, and torturing 
 himself into all sorts of attitudes, marvelling greatly that every well- 
 meant blow of his should be so coolly stopped. 
 
 "Come come! you don'fc appear to be doing much !" observed 
 Stanley, when Dashall, by dint of striking out with desperation, 
 had become nearly exhausted. " I think that it is now my turn to 
 begin," and he gave him a gentle tap over his guard. These taps 
 were always upon the bridge of the nose ; and as even Bob never 
 liked them much, it will be extremely reasonable to infer that the 
 great Dashall did not approve of them at all. Stanley, nevetheless, 
 tapped him again and again, in a manner so calm that the great man 
 really became a little confused. He could not get even a blow at 
 his opponent, who kept constantly tapping, and tapping, and tapping, 
 until the terror of the fourth absolutely became so enraged that he 
 scarcely knew what to be at. He singularly enough began to feel thai 
 
10 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 be had made a slight mistake in his man. He could do nothing with 
 him. He tried a rush. Stanley stepped aside, and tapped him as 
 he passed. He tried caution again ; and again Stanley tapped him. 
 This enraged him far more than a corresponding number of straight- 
 forward blows would have done, and he expressed himself precisely 
 to that effect. 
 
 " Why don't you strike out ?" he exclaimed, with peculiar indigna- 
 tion, " and not keep on tapping and tapping like that !" 
 
 " As you please," returned Stanley, who did on the instant strike 
 oufc, and poor Dashall went down as if he had really been shot. 
 
 The great man did not like even this. He looked as if it were a 
 thing of which he could not approve which was very extraordinary, 
 seeing that it was precisely what he had just before solicited, and, 
 while some of the juniors cheered very loudly, others looked very 
 steadily at Stanley, as if lost in admiration of his prowess. 
 
 Dashall, however, stood up again, and Stanley calmly put to him 
 Avhether he really like that practice better than the other, but as he 
 replied with a well-intentioned lunge of desperation, Stanley stopped 
 him, and down he went again. 
 
 Another cheer burst from the juniors, and Dashall looked at them 
 with a ril-serve-you-out-when-I-catch-you-alone sort of scowl, which 
 was in the abstract, no doubt, truly awful. He, however, by no 
 means gave in. Stanley urged him to do so ; but, no ! he only 
 wanted to give one fair hit to be happy. He therefore guarded 
 himself with additional caution, and Stanley, notwithstanding, with 
 additional rapidity kept tapping him precisely upon the bridge of the 
 nose. 
 
 This he held to be about the most extraordinary thing in nature. 
 He could not understand it. It mattered not a straw how imposing 
 might be his attitude, how excellent his guard, how fiery his eye, or 
 how fierce his general aspect, Stanley still kept on tapping and tap- 
 ping, while he could do nothing whatever in return, although he 
 plunged, and bucked, and bored, and jumped about in the most re- 
 markable manner possible, and with a facility which was really very 
 admirable in itself. 
 
 The interest now became intense. It was perceived that the great 
 man had screwed up his courage to a most ferocious pitch, although 
 Stanley stood as calmly as ever. Dashall made a furious rush, and 
 Stanley stopped him. This made him stand still for a moment, and 
 look very wild, but on he rushed again. Stanley stopped again with 
 his right, and with his left sent him down as before. 
 
 This seemed to inspire him with the conviction that he had made 
 a mistake altogether. He felt much confused, and looked very much 
 annoyed, for it appeared to have struck him which was really very 
 singular, that he had had enough as nearly as possible, which 
 Stanley no sooner perceived than he drew off his gloves, and offered 
 Dashall his hand, which at that moment happened to be precisc4y 
 the very thing he was most anxious to take. 
 
 " Well done !" he exclaimed with a patronising air, which was 
 indeed very good of him. " Come, you are not a bad sort, after all ! 
 This is just what I call, you know, a friendly set-to. You must be 
 
STABLE THOEN. 11 
 
 one of us after this!" And the great man shook Stanley by the 
 hand with extreme cordiality, and laboured very desperately and very 
 laudably to conceal his confusion from those around, the whole of 
 whom most uncharitably and unamiably rejoiced at his defeat for his 
 overbearing conduct, towards the smaller boys especially, had been 
 intolerable. 
 
 "Now, then," said Julian, "come to Jolliffe's den. We have 
 clubbed for a feed, and are going to be jolly together." 
 
 With this proposal Stanley was rather pleased ; he therefore agreed 
 to it a once, and went with Juliau to the particular den in question, 
 where he was hailed with three cheers as " a miller of the first water," 
 by a dozen of the elite, who had already established themselves in a 
 room, with the view, apparently, of proving how small is that space 
 in which a dozen individuals can eat and be happy. 
 
 Our hero, who now began to feel himself at home, surveyed this 
 banquetting-hall with great minuteness. It was about eight feet by 
 six, yet did it contain twelve mortals, a nice assortment of candle-endt?, 
 a leaden inkstand, a table, a sofa, a lot of books, and sundry ham[ 
 The ancient walls were emblazoned with highly-coloured portraits of 
 prima donnas, pretty barmaids, and theatrical wnrriord of c . 
 clime, while the spaces between them were appropriately embel- 
 lished with elaborate drawings in pencil and chalk, of ships, monu- 
 ments, and barns, with a few highly-finished artistical profiles of 
 those masters and preceptors who had rendered themselves ob- 
 noxious, and who really seemed to have the largest noses in nature. 
 
 On the whole it will hence be inferred that this den looked par- 
 ticularly tidy ; but that which at first puzzled Stanley more than all 
 was the style in which his friends were addressed. Each appeared 
 to have a sobriquet peculiar to himself, with which Stanley ber 
 acquainted on being informed, not merely in general terms, that hi! 
 had subscribed to the feast, but that Bull's-eye, for example, had 
 contributed a German sausage ; the Nigger, a wild-duck ; Hokeo 
 Pokee, a pigeon-pie ; Macbeth, an extraordinary lot of gingerbread ; 
 Twankay, a lump of Stilton cheese ; the Black Prince, a variety of 
 raspberry-tarts ; Boggles, a Lilliputian ham ; and Kobin Hood, a 
 Brobdignagian plumcake ; while the worthy host, Caliban, himself, 
 had not only contributed a pheasant, but had secured two tankards 
 of regulation ale. 
 
 Of the whole of these delicacies each guest partook indiscrimi- 
 nately, freely, and with infinite gusto. The gingerbread, for instam't-, 
 relished well with the German sausage ; the raspberry -tarts with the 
 ham ; the Stilton cheese with the pigeon-pie ; the plumcake with 
 the pheasant. In fact, taken together, they formed so remarkable a 
 relish, that it seemed to be a pity almost that the whole of them had 
 not been mixed with the ale in a bucket before they began. 
 
 Stanley had never seen a knot of fellows eat so fiercely ; but their 
 enjoyment was amazingly pure ; and when they had stuffed them- 
 selves to their hearts' content, they kept up a perpetual rattle, in the 
 gibberish peculiar to the school, having reference chiefly to their 
 wonderful exploits during the vacation, until bed-time, when they 
 \\isely retired to their respective cribs in the merriest possible inood. 
 
12 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 During the two succeeding days the little tyrants of the Dashall 
 caste reigned supreme over all but Stanley ; but when the fifth 
 and frixth began to arrive, they gradually sunk into the most 
 minute insignificance. The new boys wondered and walked about 
 very mysteriously on witnessing the arrival of these tall fellows in 
 their pea-jackets, wrappers, and cloaks, and retired for the night 
 with about the same feelings as those which may reasonably be sup- 
 posed to be entertained by convicts on their arrival in Van Pieman' ;; 
 Land, as they speculate profoundly upon the character of the men to 
 whom tyrannous Pate has consigned them. Stanley was, however, 
 an exception to the rule : he had no such feelings to depress him . 
 he was, on the contrary, pleased with the appearance of new arrival . 
 and fancied that he might study their style and general bearing wit' 
 great advantage. On the following morning he therefore set to 
 work with the laudable view of qualifying himself for the llemo\c 
 as soon as possible ; but he had scarcely been working an hour when, 
 much to his astonishment, he was aroused by a desperate kick at hi.> 
 door, which served as a prelude to the following command : " I say. 
 you new fellow, go to Fitzallan's study; he wants you." 
 
 Stanley certainly conceived this to be rather unceremonious ; but 
 he, notwithstanding, went to that particular study, and knocked. 
 
 " Come in !" cried Fitzallan, in an authoritative tone. 
 
 Stanley entered, and found himself in the presence of three tall 
 fellows, one of whom on the instant observed that he was a strapper, 
 when Fitzallan gave it as his unbought opinion that he would do, 
 and without further ceremony told him to sit down. 
 
 To affirm that Stanley held this reception to be highly flattering 
 were to affirm that which is by no means strictly true. He did not ; 
 but he sat down, and waited with exemplary patience until some im- 
 portant matters then on hand had been arranged, when Fitzallau, 
 addressing him again, said, 
 
 " Well, young fellow, what can you do ?" 
 
 Stanley looked as if anxious for some slight explanation, when 
 Fitzallan continued, " Can you brush togs, clean candlesticks well, 
 and light fires ?" 
 
 " Upon my word," replied Stanley, with a smile, " I cannot pretend 
 to those delicate accomplishments. I really have not had much 
 experience in such matters." 
 
 " I did not suppose that you had. But take the mud off that pea- 
 jacket. Come, let us see what you are made of." 
 
 Stanley looked at the pea-jacket, and looked at ITitzallan, and then 
 looked at Fiteallan'a friends, but did not attempt to obey orders. 
 
 " Do you hear ?" cried Eitznllan, with a scowl. 
 
 "I do," replied Stanley; "but as I think that you are equally 
 competent to the task, I'll leave you to do it." He thereupon rose, 
 and having opened the door, was just on the poiut of departing, when 
 Eitzallan, starting up, caught him by the ear. 
 
 At that moment Stanley did not smile no, not even slightly : 
 yet (and really it is a most extraordinary thing to place upon record) 
 there was something in his look which had the effect of inducin:; 
 Fitzallan to relinquish his hold. "I will not," said Stanley firmly! 
 
STANLEY THORN. 13 
 
 " notice this. I am willing to look over it ; but if you dare again to 
 touch me, I'll strike you to the ground!" And having delivered 
 himself precisely to this effect, he walked calmly from the room, 
 leaving Fitzallan and his friends in a state of amazement. 
 
 A short time after this Julian went to him. "Beally, Thorn." 
 said he, " you have done wrong. I spoke to Fitzallan myself ; he is 
 one of the most gentlemanly fellows in the school ; and if you had 
 consented to become his fag nominally, he would have treated you, 
 for my sake, as a companion." 
 
 " Why," cried Stanley, "he commanded me to brush the mud off 
 his pea-jacket !" 
 
 " Well, and what if he did ?" rejoined Julian, soothingly. " It 
 was simply because there were two of the Sixth with him." 
 
 " I'd not do it for any one on earth !" cried Stanley. " I'd die first !" 
 
 " But see what a position you place yourself in. If you'll not fag, 
 you throw down the gauntlet. The fifth and sixth are sure to be 
 at you." 
 
 "I don't cnre. I'll do my best to beat them ; but even should I 
 fail, I'll not fag." 
 
 " Well, but just let me reason with you a little on this matter. If 
 even you are able to beat thorn all, they are certain to make a dead 
 set at you, and what will be the consequence ? Can you stand 
 Hogging?" 
 
 ' No," replied Stanley, " decidedly not." 
 
 " Then I'd strongly recommend you not to get out of bounds. If 
 you do, the pra?posters are certain to catch you ; in which case, of 
 course, you'll bo put in the bill." 
 
 " And if I will not be flogged," rejoined Stanley, " what then ?" 
 
 " Why, in that case you'll be with due ceremony expelled. But I 
 am sorry you should have quarrelled with Fitzallan, for he is really 
 a good-hearted fellow. Come, let me go and tell him you didn't 
 understand it." 
 
 " By no means," said Stanley ; " I can perform such humiliating 
 offices for no one." 
 
 Julian now plainly perceived that Stanley was not destined to re- 
 main long at Eton. He therefore gave him the best advice under 
 the circumstances, strongly recommending him to keep within 
 bounds ; a course to which Stanley, knowing what would follovv, 
 most firmly resolved to adhere. 
 
 Fitzallan, whose object in sending for Stanley was to serve him, 
 and thus to oblige Julian, from whose family he had received many 
 very kind attentions, took no farther notice of the matter ; but Scott 
 and Hampden, who were with him at the time, marked Stanley, and 
 closely watched him, in the lively expectation of catching him out 
 of bounds. In this they were, however, disappointed. Nothing 
 could tempt him to go a step beyond, knowing perfectly well what 
 would be the result. 
 
 Now it happened a short time after this affair that Joliffe, one of 
 his most intimate companions, was flogged. The cause was very 
 trifling, and the effect was not very severe ; but, independently of 
 the extreme indelicacy of the process and it really is very in. 
 
14 STAKLEY THOEN. 
 
 delicate the degradation struck Stanley with so much force, that he 
 at once resolved to manifest his abhorrence of this vile and disgust- 
 ing species of punishment in a way which could not be mistaken. 
 
 He accordingly conferred with his companions on the subject; 
 and as they were equally anxious for the abolition of that species of 
 punishment, contending very naturally, and very properly, that it 
 ought at any rate to be confined to mere children, it was eventually 
 resolved that they should get up a show of rebellion, than which at 
 that period nothing could be more easy. 
 
 Stanley was chosen their leader, and they certainly could not have 
 elected a more experienced hand. He set to work as usual at once, 
 and in earnest. Having purchased an owl, which bore some resem- 
 blance to the then Lord Chief Justice, a dozen lively sparrows, and 
 an infinite variety of fulminating balls, it was arranged that he him- 
 self should take the management of his interesting ornithological 
 curiosity ; that Jolifie, Fox, and Villiers should each have the com- 
 mand of four sparrows; and that to Howard and Cholmondeley 
 should be entrusted the distribution of the fulminating balls. A 
 certain evening was fixed upon for the commencement of the re- 
 bellion, and they took especial care that their plumed troop should 
 go to work as hungry as possible. 
 
 Well, the evening came, and the conspiritors at the usual hour 
 marched into the school. There stood the revered doctor with all 
 the gravity at his command, while the various masters respectively 
 sported a corresponding aspect of solemnity. The signal was given ; 
 a buzzing was heard a buzzing to which the whole school had long 
 been accustomed, the process being known as that of " booing the 
 master." 
 
 " Silence !" cried the docter, who really seemed to anticipate a 
 storai ; but the buzzing continued, and gradually increased until 
 indeed it appeared to be absolutely universal. 
 
 " I'll flog the first boy I discover," said the doctor, who held it, 
 by virtue of some strange and inscrutable perversion of judgment, 
 to be disgraceful. 
 
 The buzzing, however, continued to increase ; and it may be 
 stated, as a remarkable fact, that although the lynx-eyed doctor 
 looked in every direction with unexampled intensity and minuteness, 
 not one of the rebels was he able to detect ; and what made it, under 
 the circumstances, still more remarkable was, they all seemed at that 
 particular period to be studying with unprecedented zeal. 
 
 " Silence !" again shouted the doctor. " I'll punish the whole 
 school !" And he really did feel very angry at that moment ; and 
 just as he was solemnly promulgating something having reference to 
 the highly unpopular process of taking away their holidays, whic 1 ! 
 seemed to be generally understood and appreciated, Stanley, with 
 with all due gravity, drew the Lord Chief Justice from his pocket, 
 and having given him an impetus in the perfect similitude of a pinch 
 of the tail, allowed his lordship at once to take wing. 
 
 Away flew the Lord Chief Justice very naturally straight for the 
 chandelier, which was a fine round large one, in which between thirty 
 and forty candles were burning brightly. Whizz ! he went right in 
 
nx. 15 
 
 amongst them, knocking down a dozen at the very first pass ; he then 
 turned and charged the rest, and down went a dozen more ; again he 
 turned and went at them and again. In short, his lordship seemed 
 to feel himself bound to work away until he had knocked down the 
 lot, and left the school in total darkness ; for he scorned to give in 
 until he had performed what he evidently conceived to be his duty, 
 by achieving that object for which his introduction had been de- 
 signed. 
 
 The school was now in an uproar ; the laughter on every side was 
 tremendous. The chief conspirators started three ear-piercing 
 cheer?, which were echoed by the rebels in the aggregate with con- 
 summate shrillness and effect, while Howard and Cholmondeley were 
 busily engaged in strewing the fulminating balls about the gang- 
 way. 
 
 The school was dark as pitch, and the rebels seemed to entertain 
 an idea that the doctor was not very highly delighted; but that 
 which tended more than all to confirm this impression was the heart- 
 rending tone in which he called for more candles. The rebels in 
 general, however, held it to be glorious sport, and kept it up zealously, 
 loudly, and boldly, until the fresh lights were produced. 
 
 They could now sec the doctor they could see that he did not 
 appreciate the fun which was very extraordinary. They could not, 
 however, be mistaken in this ; for, instead of his being convulsed 
 with merriment, he absolutely expressed what he felt very warmly, 
 and gave each opinion with infinite point. 
 
 The pra?posters were now directed to station themselves in various 
 parts of the school ; with the view of taking observations ; but 
 during their progress they walked as a matter of course, upon tlu 
 fulminating balls, which went bang ! bang ! bang ! at every step. 
 
 The doctor did not he really could not approve of these pro- 
 ceedings. On the contrary, he conceived them to be highly irregular, 
 and very monstrous ; and by the time he had delivered a few appro- 
 priate observations immediately bearing upon the point, the fresh 
 lights were established, not again in the chandelier, but in various 
 parts of the school. The instant this grand desideratum had been 
 accomplished, Fox, Villiers, and Joliffe, with surpassing dexterity, 
 drew forth their sparrows, which in the common course of nature 
 made at once for the lights, and never left them until they had ex- 
 tinguished them all. 
 
 The whole school was again in an uproar the sport was held to 
 be pi in. e ! The prreposters, who had for the few preceding minutes 
 b. j eu standing quite still, now began again to move, and the fulmi- 
 nating balls again went bang ! bang ! 
 
 More lights were demanded by the doctor ; for being a man who 
 was not a profound scholar merely, but one who looked at things in 
 general with a learned spirit of human dealings, he wisely imagined 
 that the ammunition of the rebels had been expended, which, as far 
 as matters had proceeded, was extremely correct. But the Lord 
 Chief Justice, who, in doing so much execution, had undergone a 
 temporary derangement of his faculties, had by this time recovered 
 his power of observation, and hence no sooner did he observe the 
 
1(> STANLEY' THOflX. 
 
 fresh lights introduced, than be felt it his duty to fly at them before 
 they reached the places for which they had been destined. He did 
 so, and so effectually did ho perform that duty, that in the space of 
 three minutes the whole school was in darkness again. 
 
 The doctor said something extremely severe, and his observations 
 absolutelv seemed to have reference to the subject ; for, although 
 he was indistinctly heard, he on the instant retired of course in 
 the dark. 
 
 Now the praeposters know nothing of this conspiracy against the 
 doctor's peace ; but Scott and Hampden fixed, nevertheless, their sus- 
 picions at once upon Stanley. They knew that he had a number of 
 satellites ; they knew that those satellites were spirited daring young 
 dogs, who would by no means object to enter into such a conspiracy ; 
 rind they moreover knew, that if they could bring it clearly home to 
 him, they should have the extreme gratification of proving whether 
 he would in reality suffer expulsion in preference to being 
 flogged. 
 
 With infinite zeal they therefore set to work, and eventually, by 
 virtue of specious manoeuvring, obtained a slight clue to the delin- 
 quency of Stanley, Fox, Yilliers, and Howard. Even this was, 
 however, deemed sufficient. Their suspicions were communicated to 
 the doctor, and the day following that on which this communication 
 was made the doctor solemnly directed the delinquents to stand 
 forth. 
 
 They stood forth accordingly, and the doctor, in the first place, 
 distinctly explained to them the nature of the charge ; he then went 
 on to illustrate the enormity of the offence ; and having, in the third 
 place stated the penalty prescribed, he with all due solemnity, observed 
 that as he had no absolute proof of their guilt, he should be per- 
 fectly satisfied that they were innocent if they would then declare 
 they were so, upon their honour as Etonions. 
 
 Of course Stanley would not do this, nor would Yilliers, nor would 
 Eox, nor would Howard. They were silent. The question was again 
 put ; they made no reply. The doctor was therefore convinced that 
 they were guilty. 
 
 Now came the test. The suspense was profound. The doctor held 
 a grave conference with the rest of the masters, of whom one dis- 
 tinctly intimated that, as it was their first offence, they ought to be 
 flogged, not expelled ; and as this appeared to be the general feeling 
 amongst them, the doctor very pointedly put it to the chief delin- 
 quent whether he would consent to be flogged. 
 
 "No," replied Stanley, " decidedly not. It was to mark our sense 
 of the indelicate character of that species of punishment that we 
 acted as we did." 
 
 The doctor looked with great earnestness at Stanley, and then 
 turned and looked earnestly at his colleagues, who looked in return 
 very earnestly at him. Without the slightest comment, however, on 
 the nature of this answer, the same question was put to the others, 
 who made, word for word, the same reply. 
 
 " Then," said the doctor, " 1 have but one course to pursue ;" 
 and, in tones the most solemn and impressive, he added, " I hereby 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 17 
 
 publicly expel you from this school, and entail upon you all the con- 
 sequences thereof 
 The same day Stanley, Fox, Villiers, and Howard, in a post-chaise, 
 
 left Eton together. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 SHOWS PBECISELY HOW PEESONS CAN BE PLACED IN A PECULIAB 
 
 POSITION. 
 
 IT is probably one of the most striking truths in nature, that we 
 are never inspired with a due appreciation of that which we have. 
 We must lose it no matter what it be, health, wealth, or any other 
 acknowledged sublunary blessing before our estimate of its value 
 can be correct. Neither wives, husbands, parents, nor friends are 
 duly estimated until they are gone. While we possess them, our 
 process of valuation partakes of the character of that of the Israelites 
 when about to purchase garments : we look with great minuteness 
 at the defects, without a scruple, should it answer our immediate 
 purpose to make them appear to be greater than they are ; but when 
 we lose them, their failings we magnify not, but on the contrary 
 look at their virtues, and find those failings completely eclipsed. 
 
 Now, as this most remarkable truth is of universal application, it 
 may not be deemed extraordinary that it should have applied to the 
 amiable relict of Alderman Thorn. While the alderman was living, 
 he was not precisely all that that lady desired ; he was nothing very 
 frequently, indeed, was he nothing at all like what she desired. 
 She would sigh, she would be sorry, she would wish that if he were 
 but then she would think! But oh ! how awful it is to dive into 
 the thoughts 'the occasional secret thoughts of those who un- 
 happily conceive that they are too highly bound by matrimony's soft 
 silken cords, of which the gloss, like that of prematurely old bell- 
 ropes, an indulgence in anger and an abuse of authority, not fair 
 wear and tear, have worn off. We should there in the highest per- 
 fection behold the extreme wickedness of that which is termed the 
 human heart, we should there discover wishes and conceptions of 
 a character so startling and so vile, that even they who have cherished 
 those wishes and conceptions endeavour to conceal them from them- 
 selves. 
 
 Without, therefore, going more minutely into the previous 
 thoughts of the widow Thorn, who most certainly never wished 
 them to be publicly known, it may perhaps be sufficient to state, 
 that although she had treated the worthy alderman not fondly, 
 although the practical illustrations of domestic felicity she had in- 
 duced were particularly hot, although, in short, she was continually 
 at him, pointing out dreadful faults, which he never could perceive, 
 she began now to think that, after all, he was really a kind-hearted, 
 3 
 
18 STANLEY THOHtf. 
 
 generous, good, dear sort of soul, and hence became absolutely 
 inconsolable. 
 
 She wept : very frequently she wept and more especially on her 
 pillow anc l sighed, and wept again, and sometimes sobbed, and re- 
 proached herself bitterly for having previously inspected the faults 
 only of him whose virtues were now in the ascendant. She had not felt 
 it Dearly so much before Stanley went to Eton ; but he had no sooner 
 left her than she began to feel very acutely the lamentable loneliness 
 of her position. She was very wretched, and very disconsolate, and 
 what, in her judgment, was far worse than all, albeit she had been 
 no less than fifteen months a widow, not one of the late worthy 
 alderman's friends had proposed to convince her that the loss she had 
 sustained was not absolutely irreparable ! She gave dinners : she 
 dressed with extreme elegance : she did all that she could with pru- 
 dence to inspire those whom she conceived to be likely to propose 
 with due courage. No! they were polite; they never refused an 
 invitation ; they were at all times particularly attentive and agree- 
 able but nothing more. She thought it strange very strange; 
 she really could not in any way account for it. She was rich, and 
 she was tall : she felt that she was interesting, if not strictly hand- 
 some: yet not a single creature would propose! 
 
 Such being the state of things then, she began very deliberately 
 and very seriously to turn the matter over in her mind ; for although 
 she had a son a dear darling sou who was doubtless a very great 
 comfort in his way she really felt that the comfort of a son, how- 
 ever great it might be, was not comparable, under the existing cir- 
 cumstances, with that of a husband which was really very natural, 
 and heuce very correct. 
 
 Now, within the brilliant circle of her acquaintance, there was a 
 highly-respectable individual named B/ipstone, whom Stanley from 
 his infancy had been accustomed to call his Pippin. This gentleman 
 held a deeply responsible situatiou in the Treasury, and had more- 
 over been a schoolfellow of the late worthy alderman, who had ever 
 received and esteemed him as a friend. He had never been married. 
 He had, therefore, no practical knowledge of the blessings with 
 which matrimony teems ; and it may be added as an extraordinary 
 fact, that he had never developed the slightest inclination to become 
 conversant with that particular branch of human knowledge ; which 
 certainly does not precisely accord with the popular view of social 
 excellence. Mr. Hipstone was, notwithstanding, a very amiable man ; 
 and although he was not very rich, he had an annual salary of four 
 hundred pounds, and, with all the generosity in nature, spent each 
 quarter's pay in advance. 
 
 To this gentleman the widow had given great encouragement ; for, 
 independently of his being a respectable-looking man though 
 rather short for his circumference, which was not inconsiderable 
 he was a nice, kind, quiet, clever, excellent creature, who would 
 offend no one, and whom, moreover, no one could offend. Ha had 
 been at every one of the widow's parties; he had never by any 
 chance begged to be excused ; he had always arrived with the stricc 
 punctuality of the bun, and had invariably made himself very agree- 
 
BIAS LET THGP.X. 19 
 
 able. Nor had his visits been confined to those occasions. By no 
 means. He frequently dined with her alone ! She gave him every 
 opportunity to declare himself; spoke warmly, and eloquently, on 
 the subject of wedded life ; marvelled greatly that lie should have no 
 thought whatever of entering into the blissful marriage state ; ex- 
 plained the utterly disconsolate character of her own position, and 
 proved to demonstration that, with all her wealth, she could not, in 
 her extreme loneliness, be happy ! But no ! It was all of no use. 
 He was still as insensible as a block of Scotch granite. 
 
 There would the poor widow sit, sighing, glancing, and fidgetting 
 about, until she really became so provoked that she scarcely knew 
 what on earth to do with herself, while he would be twiddling his 
 thumbs, or mechanically twirling his watch-chain, witli a heart as 
 dead to every sigh, look, smile, and sentiment of affection as a stone. 
 It was monstrous ! The widow at times had no patience with the 
 man. She herself felt it strongly and deeply to be monstrous ; and 
 that natural feeling at length prompted her boldly and resolutely to 
 arrive at the conclusion that it would not do at all to go on any 
 longer so. She held it to be a pity a thousand pities that Eip- 
 stone should be so excessively timid ; but as she had done all in her 
 power to inspire him with due courage, and as every effort had 
 signally failed, she resolved, with surpassing firmness, to take one 
 grand step, which, if it did nothing else, would at least put an end to 
 that cruel suspense with which she was then so constantly tortured. 
 
 Accordingly, on the morning of the very day on which Stanley left 
 Eton, she forwarded a special invitation to Mr. Ripstone to dim- 
 with her alone, at the same time intimating clearly that she was 
 anxious to have the benefit of his advice upon a subject in which the 
 whole of her future felicity on earth was involved. 
 
 This puzzled Mr. liipstone. He thought it very odd ; and it was, 
 in fact, remarked by his colleagues that he looked most mysterious : 
 nay, one of them, with infinite delicacy, suggested that if anything 
 oK a pecuniary character disturbed him, he had a few pounds which 
 were quite at his service ; but this was not what Ripstone wanted I 
 It was kind of his friend very kind ; the motive was appreciated 
 highly : but that which he wanted was simply to know the nature of 
 that advice which the widow required. Perhaps it had reference to 
 some particular purchase ; perhaps she was anxious to sell out some 
 stock ; or, perhaps, it was something about something, yet how was 
 her future felicity involved ? That was the point ! and his utter 
 inability to guess even what it could be, kept him in a high state of 
 fever until the clock struck four, when he hastened home to dresa, 
 and at five to a minute, he knocked at the door of the widow. 
 
 The widow heard that knock. She well knew that it was his ; and 
 became extremely nervous as he ascended the stairs, and tremble.! 
 slightly trembled as she held forth her hand to receive him. 
 
 " My dear madam," said he, with a face of some considerable 
 length, " what on earth is the matter ?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing at least nothing very very particular." The 
 faltering voice of the widow, however, convinced him that there was 
 something very particular. 
 
20 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 " You are looking very well," he continued, and this was a positive 
 fact. She was looking very well ; her rouge had been established 
 with great delicacy of touch, and she wore a richly figured satin 
 dress, while her pearled heaving bosom, her turban, and her waist, 
 were embellished vuth jewels of the most sparkling caste, so that 
 really, as the rajs of the chandelier fell with the most refined soft- 
 ness upon her, she shone altogether refulgent. It was hence by no 
 means an inappropriate observation, and as it was not inappropriate, 
 the widow felt pleased with it rather than not, and vouchsafed a 
 reply, of which the purport was, " Yes, thank Heaven 1" 
 
 " Well, come ; tell me all," said Mr. Eipstone. " You really must, 
 and at once, for I shall not have a moment's peace of mind until I 
 know what it is." 
 
 The widow smiled sweetly, and glanced at the mirror playfully, 
 and patted his cheek absolutely! Dinner was announced at this 
 interesting moment ; she therefore took his arm, and explained on 
 the stairs that he really was a good, kind creature, and that if he 
 would but wait with becoming patience, he should know all anon. 
 
 Very well. This was highly satisfactory as far as it went, and 
 they sat down to dinner. The widow on that occasion had not 
 much of an appetite. She managed the soup very fairly ; and on 
 raising the first glass of wine to her lips, the glass itself touched her 
 teeth only twice ; but nothing bearing even the semblance of solid 
 food could she manage ; no, not even the breast of a delicate chicken, 
 presented by Eipstone himself! She really felt so confused. Even 
 Simpson looked at his mistress as if a slight explanation would have 
 been a great relief to him, but of course he had nothing of the sort. 
 She tried to chat with all her wonted point and eloquence ; but that 
 was a dead failure ; it could not be done. Happily, however, this 
 was not much perceived by her guest ; for although his accustomed 
 politeness induced him to expostulate with her on the popular sub- 
 ject of keeping up the stamina to express his lively fears that she 
 was not, alter all, in the most robust health, and then to hint, with 
 all the delicacy at his command, that it was probably attributable to 
 the fact of her having then something on her mind, he himself never 
 ate a more excellent dinner. For it happened singularly enough that 
 everything which he more especially favoured had been prepared, a 
 truly remarkable circumstance, and, moreover, so fortunate being so 
 purely accidental ! He therefore enjoyed himself exceedingly, and 
 ate, drank, and chatted with infinite spirit, and was really very 
 amiable very ! but the widow whom he was thus so unconsciously 
 killing all the time, and who, knowing that she had a great duty to 
 perform, wished ten thousand times that it were over, bad a very 
 unusual palpitation of the heart : it would flutter so ! She therefore 
 sighed deeply, while he chatted gaily, and thus this ever memorable 
 dinner passed off. 
 
 "Now now, my dear madam," said Eipstone, when Simpson had 
 left the room, " come, tell me : what is this business, this serious 
 mutter?" 
 
 He here pressed her warmly, and gazed upon her face very fer- 
 vently, and her lily hand trembled in his, and she breathed very 
 
STANLEY THORN. 21 
 
 quickly, averting her smiling face gently, and looked upon the carpet 
 very prudently, while her pulse was one hundred and forty. 
 
 ' Come come !" he continued, with surpassing amiability both 
 of expression and of tone, " be calm, and tell me all all about 
 it." 
 
 The widow at this moment, with a most emphatic sigh, observed, 
 " Women are poor silly things." 
 
 "Well well; but, pray keep me no longer in suspense: it is 
 really very painful to see you unhappy/' 
 
 " I know you to be a kind, sincere friend," said the widow ; " but 
 is ifc indeed true that my uneasiness can afflict you ?" 
 
 " My dear creature ! can you do me the injustice to doubt it ? 
 You know you have known me sufficiently long to feel sure that 
 there is nothing I could do to promote your happiness that I would 
 not do with infinite pleasure." 
 
 " My friend," said the widow, and smiled ; and then looked at him 
 earnestly, and warmly pressed his hand, as she added, " are you quite 
 sure of that !" 
 
 Mr. Bipstone himself noxv became much confused. He could not 
 understand it. What what could it mean ? He could not tell : 
 he could not conceive : he could not even call up a rational conjecture 
 on the subject. 
 
 The widow saw his contusion. It somewhat relieved her. She 
 became in proportion more calm ; but, although she felt very con- 
 siderably better, she did not then feel herself equal to the task. He 
 pressed her with great warmth and eloquence again and again for an 
 explanation ; but her nerves still required composure. She would 
 have coffee first : then, if possible, she would explain the whole 
 affair. Accordingly for another mortal hour was Eipstone tortured, 
 for, although a great variety of inuendos were shot like arrows, well 
 feathered and pointed, not one hit the bull's eye of his comprehen- 
 sion ; they all of them fell very wide of the mark. This was tire- 
 some particularly tiresome to both ; but it really was not the widow's 
 fault ; it was Eipstone's, and Eipstone's alone ! 
 
 Well, the widow rang for coffee, and retired to give some further 
 instructions. "Now," thought Eipstone, "for this extraordinary 
 disclosure !" he rose ; and on her return the widow found him ap- 
 parently lost in admiration of a Titian ; but, although his eyes were, 
 his thoughts were not, upon that. His thoughts were no matter : 
 the coffee was produced, and he was again sweetly summoned. 
 
 With all the elegance and grace of which she was capable the 
 widow sipped and sipped, alternately examining the countenance of 
 Eipstone, and the delicate pattern of her cup. At length, feeling 
 that this was not the way to make progress, as Eipstone would not 
 understand, she breathed a sigh fiercely one sigh, and took courage ; 
 and while still intently gazing upon her cup, as if she really had 
 never noticed the pattern before, she smiled, and then said, " I'm 
 very silly, I am really like a child. I wish to have your advice 
 upon a matter of some slight in fact, of considerable for it is 
 to me of considerable importance and yet doyoutbinli that I can 
 get my heart high enough ? Upon' my word, a mere girl of fifteen 
 
22 STANLEY 
 
 would have far more courage. I am but a poor weak simple creature, 
 after all." 
 
 Mr. llipstone now looked unspeakably anxious, and said, " My 
 dear lady, proceed : pray proceed : it is something, I fear, of great 
 moment." 
 
 " It is something," rejoined the widow, who now felt that the ice 
 had been broken, " it is something of a character extremely delicate, 
 which really I cannot indeed indeed I cannot I dare not explain 
 even now." 
 
 The expression of Mr. Eipstone's round face now became very 
 droll. " Extremely delicate ?" thought he. " It's very odd." He 
 scarcely knew that he should be justified in urging her to proceed. 
 The phrase " extremely delicate," really struck him as being very 
 strong ; and yet when he came to think of it, he found that his im- 
 pression had been that that phrase really signified something ex- 
 tremely indelicate, which he now at a glance saw was extremely 
 incorrect, and therefore said, with his characteristic firmness and 
 force, " My dear lady, if you really have confidence in my honour 
 and sincerity " 
 
 "My friend," interrupted the widow, "I have believe me. I 
 have the greatest possible confidence in both : you are, in fact, now, 
 the only soul in whom I can confide. I will, therefore, explain. A 
 woman," she continued, with great deliberation, "is considered, of 
 course, the weaker vessel. She is so naturally, and is recognised as 
 being so socially ; and hence it is, I presume, that society has pre- 
 scribed that the weaker shall be wooed by the stronger. I believe 
 that view of the matter to be correct ?" 
 
 " Oh ! perfectly perfectly quite quite correct, my dear lady ; 
 proceed." 
 
 " Well, a woman upon my life I scarcely know how to put it, 
 but a man in the majority of cases having reference to marriage, is 
 presumed to possess advantages not merely of a moral and physical 
 description, but in a pecuniary point of view he is presumed to 
 possess advantages, and hence, I apprehend, it is clearly understood 
 that in all such cases the proposal should, of course, proceed from 
 him. Am I right ?" 
 
 " Oh ! quite decidedly quite right !" cried Eipstone, more 
 puzzled than ever. 
 
 The softest, sweetest, and most delicate smile illuminated her face 
 as she resumed : 
 
 "But, suppose I will put it so suppose leaving out of the 
 question all moral and physical superiority suppose the pecuniary 
 advantages of the lady to be infinitely superior to those of the person 
 to whom she is really attached do you consider that in such a case 
 she would really be justified in proposing to him ? Would you hold 
 such an act to be indiscreet, or imprudent ?" 
 
 " Not if he were really a man of honour," replied Eipstone, <c and 
 had proved himself worthy of that lady's choice. Most decidedly 
 not. Were he as poor as Job himself, in such a case she would be 
 justified, seeing that custom alone prescribes the contrary course." 
 
 "Well, now, that is a remarkable coincidence," rejoined the 
 
STANLEY THORN. 23 
 
 widow, archly. It happens to be precisely my opinion. I was thinking 
 the other day that in a case of that description the propriety of 
 such a step could scarcely be impugned. But, suppose let us put 
 ifc to ourselves, just by way of illustration, for I really should like 
 to be clear upon the point suppose, then, that I being disengaged, 
 of course had, let me see, gay some thousands a year ; and that you 
 being equally disengaged bad an income, we will say, of as many 
 hundreds. Very well. Now, in the event of my proposing to you 
 you know, of course, this is a mere suppositious case, but, in 
 such an event, would you accept that proposal ?" 
 
 " Why, that," replied Eipstone, " would mainly depend upon whe- 
 ther I had known you sufficiently long to be satisfied that the hap- 
 piness of both would be thereby enhanced." 
 
 " But assuming all the facts having reference to knowledge and to 
 feelings to be in every particular precisely as they are, if 1 were to 
 offer this hand, would you accept it ?" 
 
 " Decidedly. Without a moment's hesitation." 
 
 " My friend my dear friend !" said the widow. " It is yours !" 
 
 Mr. Bipstone seemed absolutely lost in amazement ; he seised her 
 extended hand, however, and pressed and kissed it with affectionate 
 fervour. They both felt so happy ! They embraced ! Their veins 
 tingled with the drollest sensations. Again they embraced, and 
 again ! when Stanley dashed into the room. 
 
 The lovers started. They were paralyzed. Had Satan himself at 
 that moment appeared, they could not have been struck with more 
 terror. They could not, or they would have sunk into the earth. 
 
 " Grood Q-od !" exclaimed Stanley, whose eyes flashed with fiery 
 indignation. " What what is the meaning of this ? Mother, what 
 am I to understand ?" 
 
 The widow sunk into a chair overwhelmed with confusion. 
 
 "Leave the room, sir!" cried Stanley, pointing fiercely to the 
 door, and addressing Eipstone, who wished to explain. " Leave in- 
 stantly ! Stay another moment, at your peril 1" 
 
 Poor Bipstone, of course, was aware that he had done nothing 
 wrong : but, then, he happened to know Stanley too well to remain, 
 and hence he quitted not only the room, but the house as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 " Mother !" cried Stanley, when Bipstone had departed, " you 
 have perilled, if not sacrificed, your own honour and mine !" 
 
 " No ! Stanley, my dearest love, no !" exclaimed the widow, 
 when extending her arms wildly, she 11-11 upon his neck, and clinging 
 to him instantly fainted. 
 
STANLEY THORF, 
 
 CHAP TEE IT. 
 
 STANLEY HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH 3UPSTONE, AND UPSETS HIS 
 NERVES ALTOGETHER. 
 
 WHEN Stanley bad summoned the servants with due promptitude 
 and violence, he left the room, and such restoratives as were imme- 
 diately available were applied with great delicacy and zeal to the 
 temples, p'ilms, and nostrils, of the overwhelmed widow. The atten- 
 dants were, however, in an intellectual maze, out of which they could 
 not see their way at all clearly, for their mistress had not been 
 accustomed to faint : and then that Mr. Eipstone ! where was Mr. 
 Eipstone ? It really seemed to them, viewing the thing as they did 
 in all its varied ramifications, to be very suspicious ; and they looked 
 at each other with an aspect which denoted that they absolutely felt 
 it to be mysterious in the extreme. Surely Stanley had not pitched 
 the man out of window ? and yet it was thought extremely pro- 
 bable. 
 
 s Simpson opened the window with a view to the immediate satis- 
 faction of that thought ; but Mr. Eipstone was not in the area ! nor 
 was he impaled upon any one of the spikes ! This had a direct ten- 
 dency to render the mystery more dense, for who had let him out ? 
 As not one of them had had that honour, the impression became 
 general that he was still in the room. They hence examined every 
 place in which it was both most likely and most unlikely for a gen- 
 tleman to be concealed, and the butler was just on the point of as- 
 certaining whether the well-known hat and peculiar cloak of Mr. 
 Eipstone were in the hall, when the widow developed striking symp- 
 toms of reanimation, and soon after retired for the night, without, 
 however, imparting the slightest information as to the cause of the 
 occurrence to her puzzled attendants, who having created innu- 
 merable conjectures with the celebrated tact and ingenuity of their 
 order were by no means satisfied, but felt, strongly and most acutely 
 felt, that there was at the bottom of it something. 
 
 As soon as the widow had retired the drawing-room bell was rung, 
 in a style in which it never was rung by any chance save when 
 Stanley was at home. There could not be two opinions about who 
 had pulled the rope. It was therefore immediately answered by 
 Simpson, who, while receiving orders for supper, looked curiously 
 round and round the room. 
 
 " What are you looking for ? what have you lost ?" demanded 
 Stanley, in a tone that was extremely pleasing. 
 
 " Me, sir ? Nothing, sir nothing," mumbled Simpson. " I only 
 thought, sir, that perhaps Mr. Eipstone " 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Stanley. 
 
 Simpson muttered something, of which the design w^s apparently 
 to convey some idea, and vanished. 
 
 Now, albeit the widow retired to her bed, her sensibilities had 
 received so powerful a shock that she found it impossible to sleep. 
 
STANLEY THORN. 25 
 
 She turned and turned again, and sighed and wept, and exclaimed, 
 sotto voce, " Why should I have been so alarmed ? The position was 
 peculiar, certainly there's no denying that ; but, then, why should 
 a mother thus fear her own son ?" 
 
 To this natural interrogatory she felt unable to give a perfectly 
 satisfactory answer, and hence really began to form a resolution to 
 break the chains which she herself had forged to shackle her will. 
 But then her fond love for Stanley ! And what can be compared 
 with the love of a mother ! It is ardent, enduring, and pure to the 
 last. There is there can on earth be no love so devoted, so con- 
 stant, so powerful. By its virtue a mother's soul seems centred in 
 her child, in whom alone exists the power to fill her heart with pure 
 joy or to plunge it into misery the most poignant : still, be that fond 
 love the source of rapture or of wretchedness, it shines in the as- 
 cendant till life is extinct. 
 
 In its most comprehensive sense the widow was actuated by this 
 love for Stanley. He was the pride of her heart ; she idolized, she 
 adored him ! Still she thought it hard, that she should be so con- 
 trolled, because as she explained to herself again and again very 
 pointedly if there be one state of life in which a lady has the 
 privilege of being more independent of family influences than in 
 another, it is distinctly the state of widowhood : she therefore held 
 control to be intolerable. She did not, she could not by any meaua 
 recognise the right of a son to dictate to a mother at all under the 
 peculiarly afflicting circumstances of the case : she thought it highly 
 incorrect and very presumptuous, and the style in which she resolved 
 to be thenceforth mistress of her own actions, as far, at least, as 
 matrimonial matters were concerned, was so extremely energetic that 
 it eventually sent her to sleep. 
 
 In the morning, when she met Stanley at the breakfast table, he 
 requested an explanation of the scene on the previous night. 
 "Mother," said he, "what is the meaning of that which I last 
 evening witnessed ?" 
 
 " What you saw," replied the widow, " I grant, was odd : but 
 then, under the circumstances " 
 
 " Circumstances ? What were the circumstances ?" 
 
 " Why, my love, the fact is I feel that I must tell you a pro- 
 posal had just been made as you entered." 
 
 " A proposal ? What, of marriage ?" exclaimed Stanley, knitting 
 his brows and pursing his lips into an expression which fluctuated 
 finely between a smile and a sneer. " I had no idea the fellow had 
 so much impudence in him. And you accepted that proposal ?" 
 
 " Why, my dearest love, look at my present position. It is really 
 very lonely, more especially " 
 
 " Mother ! do you mean to tell me that you have promised to 
 marry llipstone?" 
 
 " Why, what could I do ? He is a very old friend ; and while 
 conscious of his fondness for you, I well knew that you had ever 
 been sincerely attached to him." 
 
 "I! I attached to him!" 
 
 " What, not to your own Pippin ?" 
 4 
 
26 STANLEY THOKK. 
 
 " Pippin ! Mother, are you mad ? But the thing is too mon- 
 strously absurd. If you must marry, choose some one worthy of 
 you. Why have you not a becoming degree of pride ? There are 
 hundreds of men men of influence and station ! with whom you 
 might form an alliance. For heaven's sake banish from your mind 
 the idea of throwing yourself away upon so paltry a creature as this 
 poor fool Pippin." , 
 
 The fact of Stanley arguing any point which he had made up his 
 mind to carry was a species of condescension for which the widow 
 was not prepared : it had therefore, alone, no inconsiderable weight : 
 but when in addition to this he assailed her vanity, the consideration 
 sank deeply into her heart. What Stanley had suggested might 
 occur ! She might become the wife of a man of influence perhaps 
 a baronet ! why not of a peer ? She could really see nothing to 
 prevent it ! Yet how on earth could she ever look in the face of 
 Mr. Eipstone again ? 
 
 " Leave Pippin to me," cried Stanley. " Let him be invited here 
 this evening. I will write to say that I am anxious to see him. I will 
 make him feel that if he values his peace he had better not attempt 
 to form an alliance with you." 
 
 An invitation was accordingly sent to Mr. Eipstone immediately 
 after breakfast, and Stanley then explained without, however, en- 
 tering at all into particulars that he had left Eton. The widow, 
 being of course utterly ignorant of the fact of his having been ex- 
 pelled, was amazed. 
 
 And so was Mr. Eipstone. The night preceding he had not an 
 hour's sleep. He had been racked with conflicting emotions. He 
 had placed with an eye to his own prospect of peace, the 
 widow's love in juxtaposition with Stanley's tyrannous spirit, and 
 found the balance against the former to be so considerable, that he 
 really began to think that his present state of life was, on the 
 whole, to be preferred. But, when he received the invitation, his 
 ideas on the subject were in an instant, as if by magic, metamorphosed. 
 The matter then assumed a very different aspect. He saw at a 
 glance, and with a distinctness which was absolutely marvellous in 
 itself, that Stanley, having had the prominent features of the case 
 explained, wished to acknowledge his error and to apologise for his 
 abruptness, which Eipstone very naturally held to be very proper. " I 
 always thought," he observed, with great point to himself, " that 
 that youth was all right at the bottom, and this tends to confirm the 
 correctness of that thought, for he evidently feels that he was wrong, 
 and is now anxious to make all the reparation in his power. But 
 I'll have no apologies ! No ! it shall never be said that I exacted 
 humiliation from any living soul." 
 
 Actuated by this extremely generous sentiment, he went, with a 
 light heart through those toils of the day which are notoriously in- 
 separable from an official existence, and in the evening repaired to 
 the mansion of his love. 
 
 The widow was invisible. He found Stanley in the drawing-room 
 alone, and the coldness with which be received him not only con- 
 trasted very strongly with his own elastic bearing, but had the 
 
STANLEY TIIOEN. 27 
 
 effect of inspiring him at once with the conviction that he had made 
 a slight mistake. 
 
 " .Be seated, Mr. Eipstone," said Stanley, in a haughty tone. " I 
 sent for you, sir," he continued, " to demand an explanation of your 
 conduct last night." 
 
 " An explanation ?" echoed Eipstone with great timidity. 
 
 " Ay, sir ! an explanation." 
 
 " He-ally," observed Eipstone, who felt much confused, " I thought 
 I hoped that all had been explained." 
 
 " Sir ! you have known me sufficiently long to know that I am 
 not a man to be trifled with. Instantly, therefore, explain to me 
 all that has reference to the disgraceful scene I witnessed last night, 
 or you will hear from me, sir, in the morning ; and if you will not 
 go out, I'll post you as the vilest coward that ever crawled." 
 
 In this there was nothing which could by any process be misun- 
 derstood ; all was perfectly candid, straightforward and clear ; but, 
 then, what could Eipstone say ? His gallantry forbade him to ex- 
 plain all, because that would have been most unfair towards the 
 widow ; and then the idea of going out ! why, he had never fired 
 off a pistol in his life ! he had never even had one in his hand ! 
 while the fact of being posted, or brought before the public in any 
 such shape, would in all probability accomplish his ruin ! He there- 
 fore knew not how to act in this extremity : he paused, and was 
 puzzled ; but at length he ventured to observe, that he really could 
 not in any honourable act see anything disgraceful. 
 
 " Sir," exclaimed Stanley, " you are mistaken if you conceive that 
 I am thus to be put off ; 1 demand an explanation, and will have it, 
 or the only alternative society prescribes." 
 
 " But I have nothing else to explain," said Eipstone, " save that 
 just as you entered we were performing that which is, I believe, 
 invariably the little playful innocent prelude to the matrimonial 
 bond." Here Eipstone ventured to smile, for he positively had an 
 idea that he should thus be enabled to draw Stanley into a beb'ef 
 that it was nothing unusual after all. 
 
 Stanley, however, was not to be propitiated, for, looking fiercely 
 at Mr. Eipstone, he demanded, in a loud voice, and with authoritative 
 emphasis, how he dared to presume to propose to his mother. 
 
 " "Why," said Mr. Eipstone, " I do not conceive that I have been 
 very daring, or very presumptuous." 
 
 "Indeed?" rejoined Stanley, with an expression of contempt. 
 " Compare my mother's wealth with your own !" 
 
 "As far as wealth is concerned," said Eipstone blandly, "love 
 levels all distinctions." 
 
 " Love ! bah ! an old fool like you indeed talk about love !" 
 
 " That's very discourteous," observed Mr. Eipstone : " but I'll not 
 be offended, because I make it an invariable rule not to be offended 
 by any one. I must, however, repeat that the application of the 
 term ' old fool' is extremely discourteous." 
 
 " I know it," said Stanley : " I meant it to be so ; and I mean to 
 say farther, what you may deem equally discourteous, that if ever I 
 again catch you beneath this roof, or ascertain that you hold even 
 
28 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 the slightest communication with my mother, in any shape, I'll blow 
 your brains out." 
 
 Eipstone pouted his lips, and looked at Stanley in a very straight- 
 forward manner. "I'll blow your brains out" were very strong 
 words ; in fact, it was upon the whole a very sanguinary sentence. 
 He did not approve of it at all, and therefore said with some spirit and 
 point, " Eeally this, I must confess, is not exactly the sort of recep- 
 tion I might reasonably have anticipated : nor do I acknowledge your 
 right to interfere with the domestic arrangements of your mother 
 and myself." 
 
 "Indeed! do you not ? Then, sir, let me tell you that I have 
 such right, and will take special care that it is exercised fully. -Tarn 
 master here, and you shall know it." 
 
 " But I have the strongest possible reason," urged Eipstone, " to 
 believe that the feelings of affection between your mother and me 
 are mutual." 
 
 "I care not for that," cried Stanley. "Do you natter yourself 
 for one moment that I shall ever be sufficiently idiotic to recognise 
 you in any shape as my father ! But without condescending to say 
 another syllable on the subject for I will not exact from you any- 
 thing like a promise, seeing that that would be leading you to sup- 
 pose that I doubt my own power be assured that if ever you dare 
 to communicate, either by word or by letter, with my mother, or 
 ever presume again to enter this house (and if you have the temerity 
 to do either, I shall be certain to know it), I will horsewhip you !" 
 
 There are, questionless, some who would have spurned this menace, 
 and who the widow being willing would have married her at once, 
 in defiance of all opposition ; but Eipstone was not one of these. 
 He was dreadfully alarmed ; his whole nervous system had been 
 utterly astonished. He knew the desperate character of Stanley ; 
 he knew how fondly his mother loved him, and how zealous she had 
 ever been in his cause : he also knew that even if they were to marry 
 in opposition to him, he should never have a single moment's peace ; 
 and therefore, holding peace to be one of the greatest blessings in 
 life, he rose, bowed, and without giving audible utterance to another 
 word, left the house, with the firm determination to enter it no more. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 ILLUSTKATES HOW AN AKDENT YOUTH MAY ASSUME MORE 
 CHABACTEES THAN ONE. 
 
 THERE is perhaps nothing so grateful to the feelings of mankind as 
 the possession of power. From the wearer of the crown, through 
 all the varied ramifications of society, even down to the vilest beggar 
 that ever blistered his leg to excite sympathy, however much may be 
 said of the power of love, the love of power reigns supreme over all. 
 
STANLEY THOBS. 29 
 
 "Without, however, dwelling upon a subject so deep, for it really is 
 not essential to the progress of this history, it may in all probability 
 be sufficient, for the present, to state that as Stanley fondly 
 cherished this universal love, and was ardently enamoured of its de- 
 velopment, he derived no inconsiderable amount of pleasure from the 
 fact of his having broken off the match between his mother and Rip- 
 stone ; and as each successful exercise of his power increased it, it 
 soon became abundantly clear that he required but the scope to bi3 
 one of the most absolute tyrants that ever breathed. 
 
 The widow, who had imagined that as his years increased he would 
 become more subdued, now had ample cause to feel that the spirit 
 she had fostered in his infancy was each succeeding year gaining 
 strength. He ivould be supreme ; he would be consulted upon 
 every domestic matter, however foreign to him it might be, from the 
 most important to the most trivial. She could no longer dress as 
 she pleased. Her taste was impugned, and denounced by him as 
 vulgar in the extreme. 
 
 " When will you learn to dress in a becoming style !" he would 
 exclaim. " Upon my honour I'll not go out with you. Look at that 
 thing, how it hangs ! there's a fit ! You really have no taste. 
 Upon my life, unless you choose to dress a little near the mark, I'll 
 not go out with you at all." 
 
 And this was decidedly the most potent threat he could possibly 
 hold out ; for although she very frequently felt mortified, the pleasure 
 she derived from appearing with him in public was sufficient to 
 heal all the wounds which his tyranny inflicted at home. No 
 mother could have been more proud of her son. The highest delight 
 she had the power to conceive was that which she experienced on 
 being driven round the park by her Stanley. He was so handsome, 
 so elegant, so aristocratic in his bearing ; he drove with so much 
 grace ; his cab was so attractive, his horse so beautiful ; while Bob 
 looked so much like the groom of a peer, that really it was such 
 pleasure to be with him ! nothing could surpass it. 
 
 And it was a very stylish turn-out. His horse was full of blood 
 and pride ; and while his cab was of the most modern build, Bob was 
 one of the most undeniable tigers that ever sprang. 
 
 Of course it was not long before he was surrounded by associates ; 
 but however extraordinary to some it may appear, it is nevertheless 
 true that he was free from the most prevalent vice. He had given 
 dinners to dozens of high-spirited fellows, and had accepted invita 
 tions in return; still in this particular point had he escaped 
 contamination. 
 
 The family he visited most frequently at this period was that of 
 Captain Joliffe, the father of his friend Albert, whose cause he had 
 espoused at Eton, and who still entertained for him feelings of the 
 warmest friendship ; and here he soon became a favourite. The 
 Captain himself, although he could not but feel that he was some- 
 what too inflexible, highly esteemed him, and even applauded^him 
 privately for the part he had taken in the rebellion, invariably ad- 
 dressing him as General, in honour of his having been the leader on 
 that occasion ; for he, like every liberal-minded man, strongly felt 
 
30 STANLEY TKOfttf. 
 
 that the practice of flogging young men in precisely the same 
 fashion na that' in which infants arc' flogged, was, to say the least of 
 it, extremely indelicate. Whether Albert was at home or not, there- 
 fore, the Captain was invariably pleased to see the General, and as 
 the pleasure was reciprocal, his visits were frequent. 
 
 There was, however, one member of the family who derived pecu- 
 liar pleasure from these visits, and this was Amelia, the daughter of 
 the Captain, and one of the most elegant, interesting, loveable 
 creatures that ever fascinated man. Amelia, at the period of 
 Stanley's introduction, had just completed her twentieth year. She 
 was not strictly beautiful, although her features were regular, and 
 peculiarly expressive ; but she was so graceful, so elegant, so intel- 
 ligent, yet so gentle, that he who, having conversed with her for an 
 hour, could perceive that she really lacked absolute beauty, must 
 have been dull and cold. 
 
 She became attached to Stanley, not indeed from the very moment 
 she saw him ; for having associated his expulsion from Eton with the 
 idea of recklessness, she of course had that prejudice to overcome, 
 albeit she was even then struck with the extreme manliness of his 
 bearing, his fine open countenance, and bold expressive eye, but 
 before she had been long in his society, she regarded him with a love 
 so intense that her heart actually seemed centred in his. 
 
 Stanley at once perceived this, for in such a case no prompter is 
 required. ISTo preliminary education is essential to the perfect 
 knowledge of that, for a man becomes master of the language of love 
 at once. No woman who really loves need employ any other. Give 
 her but a moment's opportunity to let her eyes meet those of the 
 object of her love, and their souls at once seem to commune with 
 surpassing eloquence. Of course the practice of " making eyes' 7 is 
 a very different thing altogether. They who resort to this practice 
 are fraudulent bankrupts in love. The timid, soft, involuntary 
 glance alone is entitled to claim an alliaiise with nature, a glance 
 which even the eyelids would, but cannot, conceal. Such a glanco 
 Stanley received from Amelia as she drew on her glove to retire 
 after dinner on the day of his first introduction, and by that glance 
 he knew that she loved him. 
 
 And Stanley loved her. She was the first for whom he had ever 
 entertained an affectionate feeling apart from that which is en- 
 gendered by consanguinity ; and as of female society he had known 
 till then nothing, it will not be deemed strange that he should have 
 become at once enamoured of one so amiable, so innocent, so un- 
 affected as Amelia. Had he seen more, or known more, of the 
 influence either of the virtuous or of the abandoned, he might not, 
 and would not have been so immediately susceptible of that senti- 
 ment which had taken full possession of his soul ; but being, as he 
 was, uncontaminated and inexperienced, his heart was taken by 
 storm. He did love her : he felt even then that he loved her ; and 
 although that feeling did not subdue his spirit, it appeared to have 
 completely changed its course. Her appearance, moreover, at once 
 forbade him to suppose that she had not those intellectual qualities 
 which are essential to the permanency of affection, and the conver- 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 31 
 
 sation which he subsequently held with her that evening had the 
 effect of confirming the belief he had inspired, that she was as intel- 
 ligent as she was gentle ; as confiding as she was pure. 
 
 From that day Stanley's visits became constant ; and as Albert 
 was then at home, the lovers had opportunities of conversing with 
 each other almost daily, without exciting the suspicions of the 
 Captain, from whom Albert advised Stanley to keep the aifair at 
 present a secret. 
 
 Things, however, were not permitted to go on long thus. Albert 
 was soon to go to Cambridge, when the affair could be kept secret 
 no longer, seeing that Stanley could not then go down, day after day, 
 to the Captain's residence at .Richmond, without rendering his object 
 apparent. He therefore proposed to himself, first, to convince Albert 
 that delay was altogether unnecessary ; secondly, to declare himself 
 to Amelia ; and thirdly, to break the subject to the Captain, which 
 he naturally held to be the most diflicnlt task of all. 
 
 The first was soon accomplished, and the next day afforded an 
 opportunity for the achievement of the second. Amelia was sitting 
 at the piano; she, Stanley, and Albert only were in the room ; and 
 when Albert had received the silent cue, he very correctly went to 
 the door which opened into the lawn, and left the lovers together. 
 
 For Stanley this was a most anxious moment, and even Amelia 
 felt rather confused and awkward, and ran over the keys with a 
 tremulous hand, and struck an infinite variety of imperfect chords, 
 and played really in the most unscientific manner possible ; for it is 
 a striking fact that she absolutely anticipated something bearing the 
 semblance of a declaration at that very moment. 
 
 " Miss Jolifie," said Stanley, after a pause which created a power- 
 ful sensation ; and he stuck at this point for a second or two, and 
 then resumed " That is a very sweet air you were playing." 
 
 "Yes it you have heard it before, I believe?" And as she 
 spoke, her eyes involuntarily met his ; and she turned very pale, and 
 slightly trembled. 
 
 " Amelia," said Stanley, and their eyes met again, " I cannot be 
 mistaken. "We love yes, I feel that we love each other fondly. Am 
 I not correct ? That look renders me happy in the conviction of 
 my proudest anticipation being realised." And he kissed her fair 
 brow, which in an instant became crimsoned as if by magic. " From 
 the moment I first had the happiness to see you," he continued, 
 pressing her still tremulous hand with all the fervour of affection, 
 " I have loved may I not now say my own dear Amelia ? I am 
 impatient you will say that I am ; but, Amelia, you will consent 
 to my speaking upon this subject to your father ? I knew that you 
 would!" he continued, as she slightly or, as he thought that she 
 slightly pressed the hand which held hers, and he fervently kissed 
 the hand he held, and said " Bless you, my Amelia !" as Albert, 
 without any strict regard unto the correctness of the tune, but with 
 electric effect, sang, " And Tm coming I and I'm coming I" which in 
 itself was strictly proper, inasmuch as the Captain at that very 
 instant appeared upon the lawn. 
 
 Stanley therefore retired from the piano with all the ease at hid 
 
32 STANLEY THOBX. 
 
 command, while Amelia attempted to play a favourite fantasia; but 
 as she really made very sad havoc of the first dozen bars, she very 
 naturally thought that if she turned over the leaves of her music- 
 book rapidly instead, it would be, under the circumstances, perhaps 
 quite as well. 
 
 " Well, General," said the Captain, as he entered with Albert, 
 " we think of going for a ride ; will you join us ?" 
 
 "With pleasure," replied Stanley, being anxious to relieve 
 Amelia. 
 
 " My girl," cried the Captain, addressing Amelia, " come too ; 
 the air will brace you." 
 
 " Not this morning, papa," said Amelia tremulously, 
 
 " Ton are not well," said the Captain, as he kissed her. " There, 
 there, run away to your mamma; she will make you more cheerful." 
 
 Amelia was but too happy to leave the room, which she did very 
 promptly, when the horses having been ordered, the General, with 
 the Captain and Albert, mounted at once. 
 
 Stanley, in Amelia's view, never looked so elegant as he did on 
 passing the window of the chamber to which she had retired. 
 
 After riding pretty smartly for nearly an hour, the Captain, as 
 usual, pulled up, with the view of talking, while his horse was in a 
 short jolting trot, which, he held, had a more direct tendency not 
 only to strengthen a man's lungs but to reduce every corporeal 
 exuberance than any other description of exercise. To prove this 
 position, whether disputed or not, he invariably put forth himself as 
 an example ; and certainly, while he had no superabundance of flesh, 
 his lungs were of an order the most powerful- Stanley, however, 
 paid little attention to these distinguishing characteristics at this 
 moment; but embracing the first opportunity that offered, said, 
 " Captain, will you allow me to have five minutes conversation in the 
 library with you after dinner ?" 
 
 " Of course ! but what is it, General ? Out with it now," 
 
 " I wish," said Stanley, " to speak quietly upon a subject of some 
 importance." 
 
 " Ay, I see ; and that you can't very comfortably do in a trot;. 
 No ; very few can ; but I have had five- and -twenty years' practice." 
 And the Captain then commenced a long tale, which reached from 
 .Richmond to Seringapatam and back, after lashing the Peninsula, 
 the great object of which was to demonstrate that had he not practised 
 the art of talking while trotting, he should have been, years ago, a 
 dead man. 
 
 Amelia, who had been anxiously watching their return from the 
 window of her dressing-room, felc her trepidation increase as they 
 entered the gates ; for during their absence, although she was unable 
 to conceive what obj ection her father could have to one who was in 
 all respects so perfect as Stanley, she had imagined it possible, just 
 possible, that some difficulty might be raised ; and that very possi- 
 bility, unsupported as it appeared to be by anything probable, kept 
 her in a state of the most painful suspense. She, however, resolved 
 to preserve as tranquil a bearing as possible while at dinner ; and 
 Stanley, with the view of relieving her from all embarrassment, 
 
STANLEY THOKtf. 33 
 
 addressed nearly the whole of his observations to Mr*. Joliffe,who held 
 him in high admiration. 
 
 " Now, General," said the Captain, when the ladies had retired, 
 " we may as well settle this business here. It is warmer than in the 
 library." And he drew nearer the fire, as Albert left the room. 
 
 " Sir," said Stanley, " I feel that I shall but awkwardly open this 
 affair." 
 
 " Well, if that be the case, General, come to the point at once." 
 
 " To come, then, at once to the point," said Stanley ; " I love 
 Amelia." 
 
 The captain looked at him steadily, and rather sternly for several 
 seconds, when relaxing his features, he said, " Well, well, there is 
 nothing very incorrect in that. And you wish to propose eh ? 
 That, I presume, is the point." 
 
 " It is," returned Stanley ; " and your consent, will not, I hope, 
 be withheld." 
 
 " Why why," said the Captain, pursing his lips very thoughtfully, 
 and filling his glass, " my girl is a good girl ; but then she is young 
 very young ; you are both very young. However, Stanley, this is 
 my answer : I have myself no objection to you personally ; on the 
 contrary, I admire your character, as far as I have seen it developed. 
 If, therefore, you can prove to me what indeed I have at present 
 no reason to doubt that you are in a position to support my girl 
 in a style to which she has ever been accustomed, (for, being a 
 poor soldier, I can give her but little,) I will consent to your 
 marriage, provided of course, that all parties will be willing to sign 
 the contract, in five or six years." 
 
 Five or six years ! Had the Captain said five or six thousand, it 
 would not have struck Stanley as being more absurd, " Five or 
 six years !" he exclaimed, on recovering fiv>m the state of astonish- 
 ment into which it had thrown him, for it really seemed for the 
 moment to have taken away his breath. " Eive or six years ! You 
 are not serious, I presume '?" 
 
 " Indeed I never was more serious in my life.- Would you marry 
 my daughter now ? you, who have seen nothing, absolutely nothing, 
 of the world ! Why, sir, it would be about the most insane act of 
 which you could by any possibility be guilty." 
 
 " But five or six years !" repeated Stanley, to whom it still ap- 
 peared an age. " Why five or six years ?" 
 
 " Understand me," replied Captain Joliffe. " I have lived a long 
 time in the world, and know something of the passions by which 
 men are actuated ; something of the rocks upon which men split, 
 and the temptations to which they are exposed. I never will consent, 
 therefore, to the marriage of my daughter with any man, however 
 brilliant may be his prospects, unless he has seen at least something 
 of the world ; nor would any father, who has seen what I have seen, 
 and who has the happiness of his child at heart, as I have, God bless 
 her ! Take my advice ; think of marrying no one until you have 
 had five or six years more experience ; and then, as you will know 
 many thousand things, of which you cannot now even dream, you 
 will come to me and say, if I should live so long, 'I feel that you 
 
34< STANLEY THOIiN. 
 
 Jiave been my best friend ;" and you will have cause to feel it till 
 you sink into the grave, and your children will have reason to bless 
 me." 
 
 " But why not say one year ?" urged Stanley. " On reflection 
 you must yourself admit that live is an immense length of time." 
 
 " Believe me, Stanley, to be your friend when I state that I am 
 inflexible upon this point, namely, that nothing shall induce me to 
 consent to your marriage with Amelia in less than five years ; there- 
 fore fill your glass and say no more about it. Continue to come as 
 usual. I shall at all times be happy to see you if possible, more 
 so, than ever I have been ; but don't cherish a thought that any 
 power upon earih can shake my expressed determination. But come, 
 let us join the people above. Reflect on what I have said, and ba 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 PEOVES HOW POWE11FUL SOPHISTBY IS WHEN AN ELOPEMENT IS 
 THE OBJECT PROPOSED. 
 
 As Stanley entered the drawing-room with the Captain, Amelia 
 rivetted her eyes upon him with an expression of anxiety the most 
 intense. Her fondest hopes were not to be realised! she felt in an 
 instant that they were not ; his features betrayed the disappointment 
 he had experienced, and she burst into tears. 
 
 " Amelia ! Amelia !" whispered Albert, who had been endeavouring 
 to amuse her during the conference below. " Courage, my girl, 
 courage !" 
 
 Amelia strove to conceal her tears, and succeeded in doing so 
 effectually from her father ; but Stanley in a moment perceived her 
 agitation, and therefore assumed an air of comparative content, 
 which somewhat relieved her. 
 
 "You have no thought of leaving us to-night, General," said the 
 Captain, as gaily as if nothing had transpired. 
 
 " I have ordered my cab at ten," replied Stanley, " as I must le 
 in town early in the morning." 
 
 " Well, you will dine with us to-morrow ?" 
 
 Stanley bowed; and although Amelia conceived that bow to be 
 somewhat too distant, she was unable to reconcile the tone of her 
 lather with the idea of his having withheld his consent. iShe there- 
 fore panted between hope and fear until Stanley embraced an op- 
 portunity of joining her at the table at which 'she was apparently 
 reading, when he communicated the result of his conference with 
 the Captain, w-ho, with his lady, had just commenced a game of 
 chess. 
 
 " Then why did you look so serious ?" said Amelia, when Stanley 
 had explained. " You cannot conceive how much you alarmed me !" 
 
 " Five years !" whispered S anley. " It is an age !" 
 
STANLEY TIIORX. 35 
 
 " Oh, ilie lime Trill quickly pass," said Amelia, " and we shall 
 have, I hope, many, very many hours in each other's society in the 
 interim. It is not as if we were to be separated for five years." 
 
 At this moment Stanley's cab was announced, and although he 
 soon after took leave with great gentleness, in driving to town he 
 developed all the wild impetuosity of his nature. 
 
 Bob occupied the smallest conceivable space in the extreme corner 
 of the vehicle. He perceived at a glance that there was something 
 wrong, and winked, with the view to the acknowledgment of the 
 quickness of his perception, several times in dark parts of the road. 
 The horse flew over the ground with unparalleled swiftness ; for 
 albeit the whip was not used, an occasional angry -wJiisn ! seemed to 
 strike the conviction into him that nothing less than lightning speed 
 would do ; and hence, on reaching town, his wide crimson nostrils 
 were expanded to the utmost stretch, while his neck, back, and 
 haunches were covered with foam. 
 
 Five years ! Stanley felt it impossible to wait five : pooh ! ho 
 could not, he would not! Yet what could be done? "Why, what 
 must be done in such a case ? And yet Amelia was a gentle/patient 
 creature, whom he knew the idea of an elopement would shock. 
 No matter : she loved him he firmly believed that she loved him 
 fondly, passionately ; and this was, in his view, sufficient to justify 
 the attempt. 
 
 On the following day, therefore, he started again for Richmond ; 
 and as he then appeared to be somewhat more tranquil, Bob did 
 what he dared not do at the time, namely, venture to intimate some- 
 thing which had reference to his strong disapproval of the state of 
 liis horse the night preceding. An angry glance from Stanley, how- 
 ever, convinced him that it was not even then a safe course to pursue, 
 and he, therefore, under the circumstances, wisely held his peace. 
 
 On his arrival, Stanley found the Captain out, and Amelia walking 
 thoughtfully in the garden. She appeared to be somewhat dejected, 
 while her beautiful Italian greyhound had dropped his tail, and was 
 looking in the face of his gentle mistress with all the intelligence of 
 which those animals are capable, apparently with the view of ascer- 
 taining what weighed upon her heart. 
 
 " Amelia !" cried Stanley ; and she turned and flew to meet him, 
 and the dog, as it bounded up the path, seemed filled with delight. 
 
 " I scarcely expected this happiness to-day," said Amelia, smiling, 
 as she blushed. " I much fear, that my dear father that is but 
 come, come, you must not be impatient ! "We are yet young. The 
 time will swiftly fly away, will it not ?" 
 
 "Amelia," said Stanley, still holding her hands, and watching 
 her eyes intently, " I cannot wait five years." 
 
 "Come, you 'must not speak so," said Amelia, gaily, "I shall 
 really begin to be jealous, if you do." 
 
 " Then you cannot really love me. "Where love is, there confidence 
 also must be ; and confidence and jealousy cannot co-exist." 
 
 " Then," said Amelia, who never dreamed of opposing anything he 
 advanced. " Then I never can be jealous, for I do love you dearJy.' : 
 
 " If then you love me" 
 
3G STANLEY THORN. 
 
 "If!" interrupted Amelia, playfully pouting her beautiful lips.^ 
 
 " Well, then, as you love me, you will not deny me one favour r" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Nay, nay ! you must promise me first." 
 
 " Mr. Stanley, I will promise. Secure in your honour and the 
 purity of every motive by which you are guided, I feel that I can 
 deny you nothing. "What is it ?" 
 
 Stanley paused. He felt that he might be too precipitate, and 
 therefore at length said, 
 
 " My dearest love, I will tell you before T leave." 
 
 " No, now : pray, pray, tell me now : it is cruel to keep me in 
 suspense." 
 
 ' Amelia, we are, as you have said, both young. It is hence that 
 your fnther named this odious five years' probation : but why should 
 we waste in doubts and fears the sweetest hours of our youth, the 
 very period at which we are most susceptible of happiness ? why, 
 why, my love, when we have that happiness within our reach should 
 we fail to embrace it ?" 
 
 " I admit," said Amelia, " that it appears a long time : but then, 
 perhaps, you will be able to prevail on papa to name a somewhat 
 shorter period." 
 
 " Impossible ! The last words he uttered when conversing on this 
 subject were that he was upon this point inflexible ; that nothing 
 on earth could alter his expressed determination. Why then should 
 this be ? Granted we are young : what brilliant examples have we 
 of the union of persons under precisely similar circumstances ! Why 
 should we be forbidden to act like others ? Why should the ban be 
 peculiarly upon us? My Amelia! do you believe that we shall be 
 happy ?" 
 
 " Indeed, indeed, I do ; oh, most happy !" 
 
 " Then why not at once ? Amelia," he continued, as he perceived 
 her eyes suddenly droop, " you understand me. I have done all 
 that a man of honour could do. I have solicited earnestly solicited 
 your hand from the hands of your father, who has consented to 
 our union, but with a proviso which both you and I deem unneces- 
 sary, if not unjust. What more can I do ? My love, I can do no 
 more, and therefore, as we cannot at once, with his consent, be 
 united, there is but one course which, injustice to ourselves " 
 
 " Stanley Stanley !" cried Amelia, " do not name it. As you 
 love me say no more on the subject, I beseech you ! I cannot, must 
 not, dare not entertain the thought." 
 
 " Eeflect, my sweet Amelia ; reflect calmly upon the subject. I 
 do not require an answer now ! say a week hence a month !" 
 
 " My Stanley, I will not love you if you urge this matter further. 
 Indeed, you must never allude to it again. A year, a century, would 
 be insufficient to win my consent to that. But you are not serious ! 
 Say that you were but jesting, and I will love you more dearly than 
 ever." 
 
 " Amelia, I cannot say that. I am serious." 
 
 " Oh, Stanley ; consider well what it is you would have me do ! 
 Think of mj dear father and of my mother, my kind, fond mother, 
 
STANLEY TITORy. 37 
 
 whose affection for me is, and ever has been, most ardent ! You 
 would not have me utterly destroy that affection ?" 
 
 " I would not," replied Stanley. 
 
 " I knew it ! I knew that you would not. Oh, forgive me for 
 having had the thought." 
 
 " But, my love, you take a superficial view of this matter. Tour 
 mother might weep, and your father might be angry ; but all this 
 would be but ephemeral. They would soon become reconciled." 
 
 "Never, Stanley, never! My poor mother, indeed, might, if her 
 heart were not broken by the shock ; but my father never would ! 
 Ob, Stanley, Stanley, banish the thought for ever, I never can, I 
 never will - " 
 
 " When you are calm, my love ; reflect when you are calm." 
 
 " I am calm," rejoined Amelia, firmly ; " quite calm. I love you 
 you know that I love you most fondly ; but never, Stanley, never 
 will I take that step." 
 
 Stanley said no more. He dropped his hands, which still held 
 hers ; and having led her across the lawn into the parlour, he stood 
 over her in silence for some momenta, when kissing her brow 
 affectionately, he left her in tears. 
 
 He paced the lawn for some considerable time in deep thought. 
 He could not tell what course to pursue. Eventually, however, he 
 walked round to the stables, ordered his cab, and drove towards 
 town. On the road he met the Captain, who endeavoured to prevail 
 upon him to return ; but, without the slightest manifestation of dis- 
 appointment, he declined, and drove on. 
 
 Poor Amelia had no idea of his having left. As she sat absorbed 
 in tears she expected him every moment to re-enter the room. She 
 dried her eyes, and looked again and again towards the lawn. She 
 could not see him. She went into the garden. No Stanley was 
 there. He surely could not have left her so ! She would not believe 
 that he had. Even when she ascertained that he had driven off, she 
 felt sure that he would shortly return ; but when the Captain came 
 home and explained that he had seen him, her worst fears were 
 realized, and although she laboured hard, and to some extent success- 
 fully, to conceal her emotion, the thought of his having left her under 
 the circumstances without a word was the most bitter pang she had 
 ever endured. 
 
 She had still, however, the hope of seeing him on the morrow ; but 
 then the morrow came without Stanley. "Well, surely on the next 
 day ! The next day also came without Stanley ; and the next and the 
 next : a week, which seemed a year, passed, but Stanley did not come. 
 
 The Captain thought it strange, and sent Albert to ascertain if he 
 were ill ; but excuses came back without Stanley. Another week 
 passed. The Captain sent no more. He began to regard it as a 
 matter of extreme delicacy under the circumstances ; and Albert 
 left for Cambridge. 
 
 Amelia now called into action all the power she possessed, with the 
 view of enabling her to bear up against it. But then the thought 
 of having lost him for ever ! The third week passed. The colour 
 left her cheeks : her eyes lost their wonted fire her spirits their 
 
38 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 usual buoyancy : yet what could be done ? She felt that to write to 
 liim would be incorrect ; and yet could there be anything very inde- 
 licate in the pursuit of such a course ? When a month had passed 
 she could endure it no longer. fShe would write, and did to the 
 following effect : 
 
 " MY DEAII STANLEY, 
 
 " If Amelia be not utterly despised you will come down to Rich- 
 mond at once. Oh ! Stanley, I cannot endure it. I am distracted. 
 It is cruel, very cruel. My heart is too full to say more, but believe 
 me to be still your most affectionate, although almost broken-hearted, 
 
 " AMELIA." 
 
 On the receipt of this, Stanley albeit he could not help feeling 
 its force experienced more than that common satisfaction Which 
 springs from the success of a deeply-laid scheme. It developed pre- 
 cisely that state of mind to which he had been ardently anxious to 
 bring her. He had kept away expressly in order to prove that he 
 had enslaved her by making her feel that his absence was intole- 
 rable. He therefore detained the servant whom she had secretty 
 despatched, and wrote the following answer : 
 
 " MY OWN SWEET GIEL, 
 
 " You are still, and ever will be, dearer to me than life ; but my 
 absence has been prompted by the conviction, that during the pro- 
 bationary period which has been named, and which, indeed, you haAv 
 sanctioned, it were better, as that period must elapse, for us to com- 
 municate with each other as seldom as possible, lest I may lu> 
 tempted to renew those solicitations which appear to be so utterly 
 abhorrent to your feelings. I will, however, as you desire it, drive 
 down in the morning, when I hope to find you perfectly well. 
 " I am, my Amelia, still your own 
 
 " STANLEY." 
 
 This greatly relieved her. It reanimated her hopes. She felt- 
 that she was still beloved by him whom she adored, and was com- 
 paratively happy ; and when he came the next morning she en- 
 deavoured to smile with her accustomed sweetness, and forbore to 
 employ even the accents of reproof; but Stanley perceived that she 
 had endured the most intense mental agony, and that, as he was still 
 most affectionately attentive, she loved him if possible more fondly 
 than before. 
 
 The subject was not renewed. Not a syllable having reference to 
 his absence passed his lips, save to the Captain, to whom he made 
 certain specious excuses. He dined there ; and as he endeavoured 
 to enslave her still more by calling up all his powers of fascination, 
 he left her so happy ! He went the next day and the next ; still not 
 a single syllable on the subject breathed ; but, on the day following 
 that, he renewed the attack,' having found that he had so completely 
 gained her heart as to render resistance improbable in the extreme. 
 
 " My dear Amelia," said he, as they sat in the arbour, " I cannot 
 
STANLEY TUGEX. 39 
 
 of course tell, love, how you feel; but really, in your society, I 
 experience such happiness!" 
 
 " Indeed, my Stanley, it is mutual," said Amelia. "It is hence 
 that your absence induced so much anguish." 
 
 " Why, then," said Stanley, " should we ever be absent from each 
 other ? Amelia! forgive me ; but I feel that I must again urge my 
 fauit. I must again try to prevail upon you to listen to that which " 
 
 "Stanley, Stanley*!" said Amelia, bursting into tears; "pray, 
 pray do not mention that subject again." 
 
 ' I know your extreme delicacy," he continued, " and appreciate 
 it highly ; but let me reason with you for a moment. You believe 
 that your parents have your happiness at heart?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes," replied Amelia. " Of that I am convinced." 
 
 " How then can you believe that they would be angry to see you 
 happy ?" 
 
 " I do not," said Amelia. " I feel that nothing could impart to 
 them greater delight." 
 
 "Then you do not expect to be happy with me ?" 
 
 " O, Stanley ! you know I feel sure that our happiness would be 
 perfect." 
 
 " Then how can you suppose that when they see that you are 
 happy, their anger will last ?" 
 
 Amelia's head drooped, and she was silent. 
 
 " Come," continued Stanley, " come, look at this matter in a 
 rational point of view. I believe, fully believe, their affection to be 
 firm ; but I cannot associate firmness with the love which one venial 
 act of disobedience can for ever destroy. My sweet girl ! confide 
 in me ! All, all, will be well. Come aay, my love, say that you will 
 at once be mine !" 
 
 " Stanley !" cried Amelia, who was able to resist no longer, 
 " you are indeed my soul's guide. Tou will be kind to me, my love ? 
 Oh, yes ! I feel, I know that you will be kind to me." 
 
 " This is a moment of happiness. Now do I feel that you love 
 me indeed ! My dear girl, words are insufficient to express the 
 ardour of my affection ; my life shall be devoted to prove it. Pre- 
 pare, ray sweet, at once. Let our happiness to-morrow be complete. 
 Once over, and all will be well. I may depend upon your firmness !" 
 
 " Stanley, I will be firm !" 
 
 They then returned from the arbour, and after dinner, Stanley, 
 having delivered into her hands a paper containing a few brief in- 
 structions, and extorted from her another declaration that her mind 
 was made up, left, with the view of making the arrangements which 
 were essential to the performance of the highly important business 
 of the morrow. 
 
 The morrow came ; and at ten o'clock Stanley w r as at breakfast at 
 an inn at Richmond ; and at eleven a lady closely veiled, enveloped 
 in a bronze satin cloak, and attended by a servant, inquired for Mr. 
 Fitzgerald, and was immediately shown according to instructions 
 into the room which Stanley occupied. He received this lady 
 with great formality, and directed the waiter, by whom she had been 
 introduced, to send his servant up immediately ; but the moment 
 
.10 STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 they were alone, Stanley embraced her, exclaiming, " My noble girl ! 
 now I have proved your devotion." 
 
 "My Stanley," said Amelia, who trembled with great violence, 
 and looked pale as death as she spoke, " Thus far thus far, have I 
 kept my word ; but on my knees I implore you to urge me no 
 further.'" 
 
 " Hush !" cried Stanley, raising her as Bob, who knew his cue, 
 knocked at the door. " Confide in me, my sweet wife ! Still, still 
 confide in me ! Come in," he added, and Bob most respectfully 
 entered, hat in hand. 
 
 "With all possible delicacy, and with innumerable cheering expres- 
 sions, Stanley proceeded to divest Amelia of her bonnet and cloak, 
 which he placed with great tact upon Bob, who appeared to be inex- 
 pressibly delighted. He was, it is true, somewhat shorter than 
 Amelia ; but that was of no great importance, as it merely made his 
 train a little longer, and while he felt that the style of the bonnet 
 became him well, he held the muff in the most ladylike manner 
 imaginable. 
 
 "While Bob was uniting the little hooks and eyes from the top to 
 the very bottom of the cloak, with the laudable view of concealing 
 his boots effectually, Stanley was preparing Amelia's disguise Bob's 
 hat and his own roquelaure. 
 
 " Now," said Stanley, " let us see, sir, how much like a lady you 
 can walk." And Bob paced the room with all the dignity and grace 
 at his command, although he occasionally turned to look at his train, 
 and laughed with infinite enthusiasm while Stanley was endeavouring 
 fco raise the spirits of Amelia, who had sunk into a' chair in a state 
 of exhaustion. 
 
 " My dear, sweet girl !" cried Stanley, " have confidence : have 
 courage. Be assured that we shall both have cause to bless this 
 happy day. " Now," he continued, addressing Bob, " you know, 
 sir, what you have to do ; take care that you do it well." 
 
 " I will, sir. God bless you, miss," said Bob, " I wish you joy, 
 and many happy returns ;" and having curtsied, and veiled himself 
 closely, he walked with due elegance from the inn, promptly followed 
 by the Captain's servant. 
 
 Stanley had no sooner seen Bob safely off, than he completed 
 Amelia's disguise, rang for the bill, and ordered his cab to be- brought 
 to the door as soon as possible ; and as the waiter saw Bob, as he 
 believed, upon a chair with his hat on, he naturally inferred that he 
 had been taken very suddenly ill, and hence proceeded at once to 
 obey orders. The horse was already harnessed. He had but to be 
 put to ; and when the bill was brought, the cab was at the door. 
 Stanley, therefore, in an instant settled the amount ; and to the 
 great admiration of the attendants, who regarded him as a kind and 
 most considerate master, assisted poor Amelia with great care into 
 the cab, stepped round, seized the reins, and drove off. 
 
STANLEY IHOBN. 
 
 OHAPTEB VII. 
 
 BOB TAKES HIS PEDESTRIAN TOUR INCOG. 
 
 WHEN James, the devoted servant by whom Amelia had been 
 attended to the inn, followed Bob, he did not entertain the smallest 
 doubt about his being his young mistress ; for while he knew the 
 cloak and bonnet so remarkably well, that he could have sworn con- 
 scientiously to either, Bob walked with indisputable elegance and 
 ease a fact which will by no means be considered extraordinary, on 
 its being announced that Stanley had trained him throughout the 
 whole of the previous night, by making him pace the widow's drawing- 
 room clad in her habiliments, until he became satisfied with the 
 graceful character of his carriage, which could not in the nature of 
 things happen, albeit the practice was extremely severe, until just 
 as the day began to dawn. 
 
 In consequence of this training, Bob felt naturally somewhat 
 fatigued ; but it must not be presumed that this circumstance tended, 
 even in the slightest degree, to subdue his spirit. On the contrary, 
 he gloried in the performance of the task ; he held it to be a thing 
 in which bis honour was involved, and felt proud of having been 
 chosen to play a part so peculiarly important. But the particu]ar 
 consideration from which he derived the greatest pleasure, was that 
 of liow he should work the respectable victim behind him. He was 
 able to dive to some considerable depth into the thoughts, the secret 
 thoughts of that individual ; and as he had a peculiarly aristocratic 
 contempt for him, holding him as he did, notwithstanding his 
 cockade, to be in the social scale, one chalk below him he resolved 
 to make him feel before he had done with him, that in life there are 
 positions more congenial to the feelings of a respectable person than 
 that which he occupied then. 
 
 In limine, however, Bob had one great difficulty to surmount : he 
 knew nothing of the vicinity of Richmond. He had a perfect know- 
 ledge only of the direct road to town, and as he wished to avoid 
 going that way, he had turned round by Petersham Rise on specu- 
 lation ; but as to the point to which it led, or to which it was likely 
 to lead, he was in a state of the most absolute ignorance. He 
 nevertheless went to the bottom boldly, and made a little turn to the 
 right ; but as he found that the very narrow path he was pursuing 
 had a tendency to lead him back to .Richmond, he branched off at 
 once to the left, and thus approached the north porch of a magnifi- 
 cent edifice, the appearance of which struck him as being so ex- 
 traordinary that he stopped, partly in order to lose a little time, and 
 partly with a view of lavishing upon that edifice looks of admiration. 
 The particular architectural order of this noble fane and nothing 
 can be more correct than to s v ate, without unnecessary delay, that 
 
 
42 STANLEY* TiiOR-S*. 
 
 it was Petersham Church before which he stopped is peculiarly ita 
 own. It is neither Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, nor Composite ; 
 nor does it belong to any of those three which modern architects in 
 their wantonness have designated Gothic, French and Persian. It 
 forms an order of itself, which, moreover, never has been, and 
 probably never will be copied in any civilised part of the globe. 
 JBob viewed ita extraordinary steeple, which, " pointing to the skies," 
 stands boldly in the full developement of its height, which being 
 nearly three feet and three quarters from its base to its ball, forcibly 
 strikes, even in the present clay, the eyes of all beholders. He then 
 directed his attention te the wonderful tower upon which it stands 
 in all its glory ; and having with critical minuteness examined the 
 twelve triumphal turrets, composed of antique bricks and mortar, 
 by which the tower itself is surmounted, he was about to take a 
 view of the glorious ecclesiastical chimney, of which the pot pretty 
 nearly reaches the summit of the noble cupola, when Sir Samuel 
 Kay, whom he had often seen at the Captain's house, and whom ho 
 knew to be on terms of extreme intimacy with the family, turned 
 into the passage in which he was standing. 
 
 Bob was startled. What was to be done in. this extremity ? If 
 he met him, Sir Samuel was certain to speak ; and if he walked back, 
 Sir Samuel was certain to follow. He had not much time then to 
 turn over many ideas in his mind, and therefore resolved at once to 
 cut Sir Samuel dead. 
 
 He accordingly gathered up his veil in treble flutes, with the view 
 of making his face as invi-ible as possible, and walked on ; and as 
 Sir Samuel raised his hat in the similitude of a preliminary to some 
 highly-complimentary greeting, Bob tossed his head proudly, and 
 averting his face, passed on with an air of disdain the most superb. 
 Sir Samuel looked of course he looked ; and so did James, who, 
 nevertheless, felt perfectly justified in touching his hat to Sir Samuel, 
 conceiving us he did very wisely, that he had nothing to do with 
 nuy misunderstanding that might have arisen between them. Still 
 he could not but look; for he thought it very remarkable, especially 
 ns the existence of such misunderstanding was a circumstance of 
 which he was altogether unconscious. 
 
 Having arrived at the end of the church passage, to his entire 
 ^satisfaction, Bob turned to the right, .111 i went on till he s:uv ?ome 
 white gates, which he entered, in the perfect conviction that the 
 avenue led somewhere. Up this avenue be accordingly walked, and 
 on reaching the top, found another to the left, which had no gravelled 
 path ; and as it had rained almost incessantly during the three pre- 
 ceeding week'?, the narrow track which pedestrians hod established 
 by wearing away the grass, was particularly filthy. Instead, how- 
 ever, of being induced by this circumstance TO retrace his steps, Bob 
 proceeded, and soon found it a source of great comfort to him, 
 seeing that James's shoes were long-quartered, and very thin, and 
 his hose were of the purest virgin whiteness. On, therefore, ho 
 went, slipping about in all directions, for the path was very boggy, 
 and the mud WMH very greasy, and James followed him, although i 
 really turned the whole ot Ins notions of cleanliness completely 
 
STAXLEY TilOKN. 43 
 
 in>ide out. He tried at first to pick hi* way with ;rrcat presence of 
 mind, aud did i'or a time hop about with much energy : but when, 
 having got into the thick of it, the mud had sucked his right shoe off, 
 and nearly tilled it, he gave the affair up as hopeless, aud took the bogs 
 as they came with the most exemplary resignation, although he did 
 undeniably perspire at every pore ; for whenever a part presented 
 itself of a character more filthy than the parts adjacent, that part 
 Bob invariably took. 
 
 By dint of extraordinary perseverance they eventually arrived at 
 the end of this avenue, and having passed the gates there established, 
 found themselves upon Ham Common, where a posse of little ragga- 
 muffiua made some remarks upon the disgusting state of James's 
 white stockings, which James, however, treated with appropriate 
 contempt,beingunabletoleavehispost, although it is not by any means 
 clear that he would have borne it so tranquilly had he been alone. 
 
 On reaching the common, Bob, instead of going round by tho 
 pond on the right, like a decent respectable Christian, went straight, 
 over the gr;us, making each footstep visible six inches deep, whi! : 
 every hole thus made was immediately filled up with water. 
 
 To affirm that James approved of this proceeding weiv 1o allirm 
 that which is not particularly true. He did not; but then how 
 could he act ? How could he help himself? Having reached, how- 
 ever, as nearly as possible the middle of the common, he saw a small 
 hope near the horizon riding gallantly on a cloud, which bore a iv- 
 markably black threatening aspect. This he hailed as a blessing, 
 and stepping a little closer to Bob, said, with all due humility, " I bei( 
 pardon, miss but if you please, I think we are going to have a shower." 
 
 Of this Bob took no other notice than that of tossing his head 
 superciliously. 
 
 " AV^ell," observed James to himself, somewhat piqued, " I only 
 mentioned it. Let her catch her death if she likes what do I caivV 
 Let her be laid up for a month with the rheumatiz what's it to 
 me ? I only wish she wasn't a-going for to take such a tower." 
 
 This last observation was excessively natural, and much to the 
 purpose; for he really began to think that they had already walked 
 quite far enough, taking all things into consideration, including the 
 mud. Bob, however, was decidedly not of this opinion, and hence 
 he kept straight on until he reached the other side of the common, 
 when he turned very deliberately to the right, and having passed 
 through a gate, which an old woman, had opened with a very low 
 curtsey, he got at once into a sort of lane, which promised, greatly 
 to his satisfaction, to be a long one. 
 
 " Well," said James, who really felt tired, for beyond all dispute 
 the process of walking any great distance slowly is fatiguing, " I 
 should like to know how much further she's a-going. I hope she'll 
 have enough on it afore she gets home." 
 
 This acute observation did not reach Bob, and if it had, it would 
 not have made even the smallest difference ; for he felt at that mo- 
 ment more highly pleased than ever, having just turned a little to 
 the left, and found himself in another long Jaiie, which appeared to 
 have no end at all. 
 
44 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 After walking down this lane for about a mile and a half, James 
 began to look at the thing very seriously indeed. Had he known 
 how far he had to go, or even where, without any immediate refer- 
 ence to the distance, or anything, however slight, about it, he would 
 not have cared so much ; but called upon, as he was, to walk en and 
 on, at the rate of about half a mile an hour, in a state of utter dark- 
 ness as to where he was going, and without any earthly object in 
 view than that of continuing to follow, it was really so dreadfully 
 tiresome, that he himself began to wonder how flesh and blood could 
 stand it. 
 
 " Where was she off to ? "What could she have got into her head ? 
 When did she mean to turn ? What time could she expect to get 
 back ? These were questions which he found it impossible to fcolve. 
 It was a profound mystery to him. He could not fathom it at all ! for 
 Bob still kept on, the grace and dignity of his deportment being in- 
 terfered with only by an occasional convulsive but half-suppressed 
 chuckle. 
 
 At length the ancient town of Kingston met their view, and the 
 spirits of the victim did somewhat revive. " At all events," said he, 
 " this is the end of the tower, and may her legs ache well afore she 
 gets back." The probability of such an occurrence in some degree 
 restored him to good humour, and he drew oif his gloves to put up 
 his collar, and to raise his cravat, with the view of making himself 
 appear as respectable under the circumstances as possible ; but no 
 sooner had they entered the town than Bob deliberately turned into 
 the King's Arms public-house, and called for a glass of hot brandy- 
 and-water. 
 
 James, who stood at the door, looked amazed. He was perfectly 
 bewildered. He peeped in again and again, and saw Bob at the bar, 
 with the glass to his lips. What ! a delicate and highly-accom- 
 plished young lady bounce boldly into a common public-house, call 
 for a glass of hot brandy-and- water, and drink it at the bar ? He 
 could have relished a little himself certainly, for he felt very faint ; 
 but the idea ! 
 
 "I say," said he to a coach-porter standing near the door, "I 
 say, get us a pint of ale; I'm fit to drop. Good luck to you, make 
 haste !" 
 
 The porter darted into the house with all possible speed ; when 
 Bob, who knew as well what they after as they were did themselves, 
 unexpectedly finished his glass, and walked out. The porter followed 
 with the ale very promptly. " Give us hold" cried James, in an 
 energetic whisper. " Only let's have one pull." And he accord- 
 ingly on the instant seized the pot ; but in his eagerness, not only 
 poured a portion of the beverage over his collar and cravat, and down 
 the bosom of his shirt, thus spoiling the respectability of his appear- 
 ance altogether, but the first mouthful went " the wrong way !" a 
 slight accident, which made him spurt and cough with unequivocal 
 violence. " Catch hold!" said he, as soon as he had recovered the 
 power to speak. " Here, give us the change quick !" when strain- 
 ing to keep down his cough as the hot water streamed from his eyes, 
 he continued to follow Bob, who highly enjoyed it. 
 
STANLEY 
 
 This alone was enough for a man like James, but when he had 
 sufficiently recovered himself to see his way with distinctness, a 
 feeling of horror crept over him on perceiving that Bob was still 
 gowgfrom Richmond. 
 
 " "Why, what why why where is she oft' to now /" he exclaimed, 
 as they passed over the bridge. " If this isn't a comfort, I don't know 
 what is ! Who would be a servant ? But never mind, she'll soon 
 give in, for all sLo has had a glass of brandy-and-water. I wonder 
 she ain't beastly ; but they'll smell my lady; they're safe to find 
 her out when she pets home ; that's one consolation, anyhow. But 
 let's just see now how far she will go. I'll warrant I'll keep it up 
 as long as she can. Let her walk on. "Who cares ? Let us just- 
 see now who'll be the first to give in !" 
 
 Unconscious of this manly challenge, Bob still pursued his course ; 
 but the spirit of the challenger was quickly subdued. 
 
 " Where can she be going ?" he exclaimed in despair. " It is all 
 very fine, but TV- 11," he continued, clutching a newly-created hope 
 with surpassing promptitude and tightness, " she must ride back ; 
 that's quite clear." 
 
 This hope was, however, strangled in its earliest infancy, for Bob 
 at that moment turned into Bushy Park, which, in the judgment of 
 James, was more monstrous than all, for he happened to know the 
 extent of that park, and Bob walked about as leisurely as if he had 
 not been then more than a hundred yards from home. He kept to 
 no particular path, but wandered here and there, as his fickle fancy 
 happened to change. He at one time got very near the Hampton- 
 Court gate, but he turned back, and walked round and round the 
 park again, until James worked himself into such a state of mental 
 excitement that he absolutely made up his mind to do something. 
 
 " I will speak ! I'll speak, if I lose my place !" he cried firmly. 
 " They can't be off giving me a character." And he cleared hia 
 throat desperately, and shook his head with a reckless air, and said 
 to Bob boldly, " If you please, miss, it's getting very late." 
 
 " Fellor !" cried Bob, in a tone of virtuous indignation. " How 
 dare you address a lady, fellor ? "What do you mean, sir, by follerin' 
 of me?" 
 
 James stood aghast ! It was not his young mistress ! Really his 
 state of mind became dreadful, as the conviction flashed vividly 
 across his active brain that he had been following a strange lady ; he 
 felt in fact perfectly paralysed. 
 
 " I I I beg pardon, ma'am," he eventually muttered ; "but it's 
 quite a mistake." 
 
 " A mistake," cried Bob, " you imperent fellor, you ! For two pins 
 I'd give you in charge for a nuisance." 
 
 Bob said no more. He felt that he had said quite enough, and 
 therefore tossing his head with superb hauteur, left James in a state 
 of bewilderment so absolute that the whole of his intellectual 
 functions appeared to be deranged. 
 
 " Well," said he, when his faculties were a little restored, "here's 
 a go ! Here have I been the whole of this here blessed morning 
 a-following and a-following that creature there miles after miles, 
 
40 tU'AXLhY T.lOll.S". 
 
 like a fool ; imd v/hen all comes to all, ifc aia't her ! "Why, when I 
 tell 'em they won't believe me ; I wouldn't believe myself if I wasi/t 
 myself. Shan't I catch it ? I ought to have known it wasn't her. 
 Is it likely that site would have waded through the muck all these 
 miles ? Is ifc anything like any thing likely ? Not a bit of it ! Jim, 
 you're an ass !" 
 
 HaviDg arrived at this highly satisfactory conclusion, he pro- 
 ceeded to r trace his steps ; but before he had reached the gates he 
 suddenly conceived an idea. 
 
 " It was her cloak," said he, stopping remarkably short. " I'll 
 take my solemn oath to the cloak." 
 
 At this moment the whole affair struck him as being most extra- 
 ordinary, and, as the force with which it struck him turned his head 
 completely round, he beheld Bob in the distance assuming a variety 
 of inelegant and unladylike attitudes, holding his back and sides as 
 if in laughing convulsions, and twisting, and stooping, and slapping 
 his knees in a state of unadulterated rapture. 
 
 " She stole it ! I'll lay my life she stole it !" cried James, and he 
 instantly took upon himself the entire responsibility of running 
 back. 
 
 Bob saw him coming, and inferred therefrom that his suspicions 
 had been awakened ; and as he had not the slightest desire to be 
 identified, he instantly started oft'; but, being totally unaccustomed 
 to run in a lady's cloak, although he had in his time jumped in a 
 s*ack very cleverly, he found that it materially impeded his progress. 
 For the first hundred yards he held it up with great success; but 
 as it dropped while he endeavoured tj adjust the veil, which annoyed 
 him, he stepped upon it, and clown he went heavily. He cared not, 
 however, two straws about that. It was not in his nature to give in. 
 He scrambled up again in an instant, but in doing so tore the front 
 breadths all to ribbons. He could do nothing at all with the little 
 hooks and eyes ; they could not be prevailed upon to separate ; and 
 hence, as Jatnes was gaining fast upon him, he at once tore the 
 cloak completely off, and left that, with the little muff, behind him. 
 
 James now saw the figure of a man in top-boots, and became more 
 than ever convinced that an audacious larceny had been committed. 
 He therefore passed the abandoned muff and cloak which were lying 
 upon the grass, with the laudable view of securing the delinquent ; 
 but as Bob now threw off his bonnet seeing that, in the first place, 
 he could run before the wind much more swiftly without it, and 
 being, in the second, convinced that it would be well taken care of by 
 James, who would thereby save him a great deal of trouble he 
 darted off at a speed which outstripped that of the victim, to whoso 
 view he was very soon lost among the trees. 
 
 For some considerable time James hunted about with due severity 
 of aspect. He felt perfectly certain that he in the tops was not far 
 off : nor was he. Bob was up one of the chesnut trees, perched upon 
 a branch, from which he was able to look on securely. But then 
 James was not aware of this at all. The possibility of such a tbin-.j 
 never entered his vivid imagination. He looked round and round 
 the trunks with all his characteristic cunning, and flew from tree to 
 
STAINLEY TJIOH2?. 47 
 
 tree like a wild individual ; but the idea of looking an inch above his 
 licad never entered that head for an instant. 
 
 Under these peculiar circumstances, therefore, it will not be con- 
 sidered very marvellous that he failed to find Bob. That he did not 
 approve of being baffled is a fact which at the time was abundantly 
 obvious, for he clenched his fists desperately, and looked very severe ; 
 but as reason eventually came to his aid, he felt impressed xvith the 
 conviction of its being, as a general rule, useless to look for that 
 which there is no chance of finding, and therefore left the vicinity of 
 the chesnut tree, and gathered together the bonnet, muff, and cloak, 
 with the view of taking them back as trophies to Bichmond. 
 
 Bob, from his elevated position, watched him fairly out of the park, 
 and then descended. He was, of course, inexpressibly delighted ; 
 but as he ielt very hungry, he made for the nearest public-house, 
 where he ordered a rump-steak smothered in onions. He then had 
 another glass of brandy-and-water, and afterwards got the ostlers 
 around him, and treated them with innumerable pots of half-and- 
 half, and screws beyond all human calculation; called for songs; 
 tsang himself; proposed the health of his master and new mistress, 
 which was drunk enthusiastically again and again ; and thus, being 
 about as happy as a prince, he laughed, smoked, drank, and sang, 
 until his head very suddenly dropped upon the table, when the kind- 
 hearted host, in consideration of his having piid like a gentleman 
 for what he had ordered, had him carefully carried up to bed, in a 
 state of the most absolute oblivion. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 STANLEY'S TRIP TO GRET^A GEEEN. 
 
 WITH all possible speed Stanley drove up to town, and on his arrival 
 in liegent Street dashed into a yard, where ho found in perfect 
 readiness a travelling carriage, iuto which he at once handed Amelia, 
 from the cab. 
 
 " Pray, pray, my dear Mr. Stanley, I beseech you pray, let me go 
 home!" said the trembling girl, in accents the most touching, as she 
 entered the carriage. 
 
 ;< My dearest ! why, surely, you would not return nou r ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Indeed, indeed my courage foils me. Mamma will be 
 so dreadfully alarmed. Do Jet me return. You cannot tell, Stanley, 
 how dearly I will love you you cannot, indeed !" 
 
 " My Amelia, I believe that you love me now. You must not en- 
 deavour to make me feel that you do not repose in me lhafc con- 
 fidence which is the very essence of love." 
 
 Amelia sank back in. the carriage, and sobbed like a child. 
 
 Tin; horses were put to, and the female servant, whom the post- 
 master had provided, had iaken her seat on the box ; all, therefore, 
 
48 STANLEY TllOJiX. 
 
 being ready, the postilions mounted, Stanley joined Amelia, and the 
 carriage dashed out of the yard. 
 
 For the first three stages Amelia was in tears. Stanley employed 
 all his eloquence, which was not inconsiderable, with the view of en- 
 forcing his sophistries, which were at all times most specious, but in 
 vain. He tried with all the power of which he was capable to wean 
 her thoughts from home, but without any sensible effect, until vexa- 
 tion caused him to be gloomy and silent, when Amelia turned to 
 cheer him. 
 
 "My Stanley," she cried, "why are you so dull ? If you repent 
 of this step, my love, believe me I shall be overjoyed. Let us return 
 even now." 
 
 " Amelia, if I am hateful in your sight, if you feel that you cannot 
 confide in my honour, I will ; but if we do return, never must we see 
 each other more. I have not repented I feel that I never can re- 
 pent ; but when I see you so cold, so exclusively occupied with the 
 consideration of the sacrifice you have made, that you cannot devote 
 a single smile, look, word, or thought to me, I should be stone, my 
 Amelia, if I did not feel the slight most acutely." 
 
 " Eorgive me ! I do not think that I have made any sacrifice I 
 do not indeed ! But I cannot help thinking of poor dear mamma !" 
 And fresh tears gushed forth, which she hastened to conceal. " But," 
 she added, " you will not be dull ? I know that I am weak ; but you 
 will not be angry?" 
 
 " I cannot, my love. Although you do try to vex mo by being a 
 little coward, you know that I cannot be angry with you." 
 
 " Well, well, I will summon more courage," and she again sobbed 
 while striving to assume an air of gaiety. "I will not vex you thus, 
 and then you will talk to me, Stanley, will you not ? Yes and then 
 we shall be happy. I have but you now I have no soul on earth 
 to confide in but you ! There ! now you look yourself again. You 
 are not like my Stanley when you are* dull." And she adjusted the 
 curls which partly concealed his fine forehead, as his face brightened 
 into a smile. 
 
 Thus by assuming an air of coldness, and making her feel that he 
 was jealous of her thoughts, he restored her to apparent content- 
 ment, albeit even then her heart was ready to break. 
 
 As the evening drew near, Stanley desired the servant to get inside 
 the carriage, ostensibly in order that she might not catch cold, but 
 in reality in consideration of Amelia, with whose delicacy he was 
 perfectly well acquainted. During the night, however, Amelia slept 
 but little. Her mind was on the rack, and even when she did sleep 
 her dreams were of a nature to induce her to keep awake as much 
 as possible. Stanley did all in his power to diminish the fatigue of 
 the journey. He procured a pack of cards and a small table, upon 
 which they played for hours, while the servant held the lamp ; and 
 when tired of playing, he read an amusing book aloud, told a variety 
 of interesting anecdotes, in short, all that a man could do, he did 
 to raise her spirits, rind to prove that he had her happiness at heart. 
 
 They stopped but little on the road. Stanley placed great reliance 
 upon the tact and dexterity of Bob, and felt certain that, even in 
 
STANLEY THOHX. 49 
 
 the event of the disguise being discovered, he would not suffer his 
 attendant to return before the evening ; he was, however, far too good 
 a general not to follow up the advantage he had gained, and hence he 
 calculated not upon the probability alone, but upon the bare pos- 
 sibility of an accident. 
 
 At length they reached Carlisle, and Stanley felt they were then 
 quite safe ; but he would not even then stop for any refreshment, 
 although it was 3 P.M., and they had had but a biscuit and a glass of 
 wine since six o'clock that morning. As they had, however, but 
 nine miles farther to go it was of little importance ; and, as Stanley 
 was most anxious to have the ceremony over, in order that his mind 
 might be perfectly at ease, he ordered a change as quickly as pos- 
 sible, and the facility with which those worthies at Carlisle can 
 change horses if they like, is truly astonishing, and off they started 
 again. 
 
 They had scarcely, however, got three miles from Carlisle when 
 Stanley, who was continually on the look-out, saw in the distance a 
 carriage and four dashing towards them at a speed which seemed to 
 outstrip the wind altogether. 
 
 " What what's that ?" cried Amelia, who saw in an instant by the 
 altered countenance of Stanley that he perceived something coming. 
 
 " Nothing nothing but a carriage, my love. Don't be alarmed. 
 It is probably " At this moment he saw an elderly person thrust 
 his grey head out of the window, with the view of urging the 
 postilions on. " Now, my lads," continued Stanley, " Look alive ! 
 send them forward !" 
 
 One of the post-boys turned and muttered something, which was 
 meant to intimate that the pursuers would not be permitted to 
 catch them. 
 
 " It is my father !" cried Amelia, " it is my father !" 
 
 " No, no, my love no ! Don't be alarmed. It is, in all probability, 
 some other happy pair who are anxious to be married before us. 
 But we must not allow them to beat us, you know. "We are ahead 
 now, the race must be ours." 
 
 Amelia saw at a glance that he apprehended something more than 
 that, but was silent. 
 
 Stanley now let down one of the front windows, and having 
 mounted the seat, put his hands upon the box, in which position, 
 being half out of the carriage, he could see both before and behind 
 him. " Ply ! fly !" he cried to the post-boys. " Away ! where are 
 your spurs ? we are pursued !" 
 
 The fellow who had the command of the wheelers looked round, 
 and by a wink seemed anxious to make him understand that the old 
 people on that road never were suffered to overtake the young 
 ones. 
 
 Of this Stanley was at that time perfectly unconscious, although 
 he subsequently found it a fact. The pursuers have indeed but little 
 chance between Carlisle and Springfield. The post-boys their own 
 know better than to allow them to overtake the fugitives ; for, in- 
 dependently of the spirit of knight-errantry which actuates the 
 chivalrous dogs, the principle of self-interest seeing that they all 
 7 
 
50 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 share the profits with his Eeverence prompts them to keep a most 
 respectful distance in the rear. They will lash, and spur, and swear 
 at their horses, if urged, with unexampled desperation, flourishing 
 their whips, and apparently digging away with their heels, and per- 
 forming a variety of extraordinary equestrian antics, curbing, 
 fretting, and fidgetting the animals, until their knees tremble again, 
 and tbeir nerves are so unsettled, that on a clear cold day there is 
 no such thing as seeing through the steam which proceeds from their 
 foaming bodies ; but the lads hold it tightly to be a sharp point of 
 honour not to suffer the pursuers to reach Springfield until the pur- 
 sued have had time to get " welded." 
 
 Had Stanley known this at the time, it is highly correct to sup. 
 pose that he would not have been quite so much 'astonished. He 
 saw them cutting, and slashing, and spurring, and manoeuvring, and 
 yet they lost ground ! which was very remarkable. Feeling, how- 
 ever, that they should not even then be in time to get the 
 ceremony comfortably over, Stanley cried, "Twenty pounds for 
 another mile an hour ! thirty for two !" 
 
 The post-boys no sooner heard this than to work they went, whip 
 and heel. They were in earnest, and therefore dashed along in style. 
 
 Just, however, as they had got within two miles of Springfield, 
 the near wheeler struck his unhappy foot against a stone and fell, 
 sending his rider about twenty yards a-head. The man, however, 
 knowing how to fall, was comparatively unhurt, and was on his legs 
 in an instant. 
 
 " All right !" cried Stanley. " Be quick, but cool. Up with the 
 horse, and away !" 
 
 The horse, however, could not get up, not that he was severely 
 injured, but because he had got one of the traces beneath him, and 
 two of his legs above the pole. 
 
 Stanley leaped from the carriage, with the view of assisting them 
 to unhook the trace ; and while they were thus engaged, the post- 
 boys of the pursuers were exerting all their energies in order to keep 
 back. They checked and curbed their horses, while they appeared 
 to lash them with great severity, as they pulled them all over the 
 road ; still being compelled to go forward at some pace, every moment 
 of course brought them nearer. They tried hard, very hard to upset 
 the carriage, by pulling it over the hillocks, which stood on the 
 roadside* but no the carriage would not upset. Nothing could 
 persuade it to do so it would, in very spite of them, keep upon its 
 wheels ! They were therefore compelled, though with manifest re- 
 luctance, to overtake the fugitives before they could make a fresh 
 start. 
 
 Stanley now rushed to the door of the carriage, bade Amelia not 
 to be alarmed whatever might occur : and in an instant an elderly 
 personage, backed by another much younger, approached him. 
 
 " Villain !" cried the former, " have I caught you at last ?" And 
 he ground his teeth furiously, and, shaking his fist in the face of 
 Stajaley, tried to force him from the door. 
 
 ^ Stanley nt the moment looked pale ; but he was cool, and stood 
 firm as a rock. 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 51 
 
 " By whose authority," said he, " do you pursue this most out- 
 rageous course ?" 
 
 "Authority, scoundrel!" cried the hot old gentleman, foaming 
 with rage to an extent which interfered with the distinctness of his 
 articulation. " Stand aside !" And, seizing Stanley by the collar, he 
 struck him several times with his cane, and his friend felt in a 
 manner bound to follow his example, when Stanley, who could not 
 approve of this proceeding, shook them both off at once. 
 
 " Stand back !" he cried firmly. " Use no violence, and I will use 
 none. But who are you ?" 
 
 " Insolent villain !" cried the elder assailant. 
 
 " Knock him down !" exclaimed the younger. 
 
 " Touch me," cried Stanley, " at your peril !" 
 
 In an instant they both rushed upon him, and the next moment 
 both were on the ground. The younger started up again, and 
 Stanley again sent him down, where he remained a while to turn the 
 matter over in bis mind. 
 
 " Help ! help !' J shouted the elder. " My good fellows, help us ! 
 Secure him !" 
 
 "Stand off !" cried Stanley, as the post-boys approached. "If 
 you value your beauty, stand off!" 
 
 At this moment Stanley's men, who had just got the horse up, and 
 made things all right for a start, rushed with much affected fury to 
 the spot, and, without uttering a syllable, sprang at the post-boys, 
 who, however, seemed to understand them perfectly well, and the 
 four fellows wrestled with great desperation, while Stanley was 
 keeping the principals at bay. 
 
 " Get in !" cried the man who had been thrown, as he passed close 
 to Stanley, while struggling with his opponent. " Get in, and we're 
 off!" 
 
 As they dashed away Stanley turned to look after his assailant. 
 The post-boys were still on the ground, apparently writhing with 
 the most intense species of agony. The torture they experienced 
 appeared to be so singularly dreadful, in fact, that they had not risen 
 when Stanley's carriage whirled out of sight. 
 
 Nor did they rise for some time after that. They had both been 
 so dreadfully shaken! Oh! the power to stand was out of the 
 question altogether. Threats and bribes were alternately resorted 
 to in vain. They roared with anguish, and rolled about the road in 
 a state of torture ; in short, it was not until their employers were 
 about to vault into their saddles, with the view of pursuing the 
 fugitives alone, that they felt themselves sufficiently recovered 
 to mount, so horribly had they been shattered; and when, 
 they did mount, they rolled over the horses so ingeniously, and 
 performed such a variety of astonishing evolutions, that their 
 ability to keep on at all seemed to be an absolute miracle ; albeit 
 while they did, with undoubted ingenuity, their five miles an hour, 
 they continued to shout, as a matter of course, " We'll catch 'em, 
 now ! oh, we'll catch 'em !" 
 
 By the time they had thus fairly started, Stanley was within fh \*. 
 hundred yards of Springfield. Poor Amelia was half dead wiili 
 
52 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 fright. Had either of the pursuers been her father, the probability 
 is that she would have rushed into his arms ; but, as it was, she 
 shrank into a corner of the carriage. The voice of one of them 
 she was unable to recognise distinctly, but that of the other she 
 felt sure was the voice of one of her father's most intimate friends. 
 
 The carriage now stopped at the inn, where Stanley and Amelia 
 instantly alighted, and went into the first room they reached. For- 
 tunately his reverence was at the time in the house, in a state which 
 stands midway between pure sobriety and absolute intoxication, and 
 being invariably on the qui vive, he on this occasion rushed into the 
 room, without waiting for a summons. 
 
 " I am raddy," said he, as he drew forth a book. 
 
 " That's fortunate," cried Stanley. " No time must be lost." 
 
 " "What fay ? "What do you gi' ?" inquired his reverence. " These 
 matters are always sattled beforehan'." 
 
 " Do it quickly, and I'll give you twenty younds." 
 
 " "Wheugh !" cried the man, between a whistle and a hiss." In a 
 case o' thees descraption I canna do't for less than forty." 
 
 ""Well, forty, fellow, and begin." 
 
 "Fallow!" echoed his Eeverence/who held the term to be dis- 
 courteous, " Maybe I'll no do't at a' !" 
 
 "Proceed with the ceremony," cried Stanley, "or we'll go at 
 onceover to your rival." 
 
 " "Weel! weel ! but fallow !" cried his Eeverence, who did not by 
 any means like it ; but he, notwithstanding opened the book, and 
 muttered very indistinctly and very hastily, certain very small portions 
 of the regular service, and having called upon Stanley and Amelia 
 to join hands, and then to sign the marriage record, the ceremony 
 was at an end. 
 
 His Eeverence then sat down to write out the " marriage lines," of 
 which the following is a copy : 
 
 " These are to certify to all whom it may concern, that Stanley 
 Thorn and Amelia Henrietta Joliffe came before me, and declared 
 themselves to be both single persons, and were lawfully married 
 according to the way of the Church of England, and agreeably to 
 the laws of the Kirk of Scotland. Given under my hand at 
 Springfield, near Gretna Green, this day, before these witnesses" 
 
 Here followed the signatures of his Eeverence, a waiter, a cham- 
 bermaid, and the servant whom Stanley had brought from town. 
 
 On handing over the " lines," the priest received the fee for which 
 he had stipulated, and then took his leave ; Stanley gave the still 
 trembling Amelia in charge of the females, and waited the arrival 
 of his pursuers alone. 
 
 The post-boys had timed the thing admirably. Nothing could 
 have been more correct. The very moment Amelia left the room 
 with her attendants the carriage drove up to the door. 
 
 ^ Stanley at once darted to the window, and as he saw the post-boys 
 wink at each other with peculiar significance, he for the first time 
 distinctly understood the real character of the whole arrangement. 
 
STANLEY THORN. 53 
 
 Of course the pursuers were not long before they alighted, nor 
 when they alighted were they long before they entered Stanley's 
 room. 
 
 " Oh ! you shall pay dearly for this !" cried the elder of the two, 
 shaking his cane and looking daggers at the fugitive. " I'll make 
 you smart for it, scoundrel !" 
 
 " Who are you !" cried Stanley. " I am not to be bullied ! Are 
 you ashamed of your name ? I know nothing of you." 
 
 " Villain ! thief! where is my daughter ?" 
 
 " Your daughter ?" cried Stanley. " Your daughter ? Oh ! I 
 see ; a mistake. My wife is no daughter of yours." 
 
 "Liar!" exclaimed the fierce old gentleman, shaking his stick 
 with additional violence. " I am not to be trifled with. It is my 
 child whom you have stolen my child my only child, villain ! and 
 I'll have her !" 
 
 " If for a moment you will be calm, I will convince you that she 
 is not. I am not in the habit of allowing persons to address me in 
 this way with impunity : but I am disposed, under the circumstances, 
 to make every allowance. Look at this, the certificate of our marriage. 
 Stanley Thorn is my name, Amelia Joliffe was the name of my wife. 
 Are you satisfied ?" 
 
 " No : nor shall I be until I see her." 
 
 "I will consent even to that," said Stanley, and he sent for 
 Amelia. 
 
 " And why, if what you state be correct," said the old gentleman, 
 " why did you not explain on the road ?" 
 
 "Because," replied Stanley, "you conducted yourself with so 
 much violence." 
 
 " But of course you knew that I was not the father of the lady ?" 
 
 " I did ; but I did not know that you were not her father's friend." 
 
 Amelia now timidly entered the room, expecting, of course, to 
 see some one who knew her. 
 
 " Have courage, my girl," said Stanley, taking her hand. " These 
 gentlemen are perfect strangers. I sent for you simply to convince 
 them that they had made a mistake." 
 
 " I have to apologise, madam," said the old gentlemen with due 
 politeness, "for having caused so much alarm. I am satisfied," 
 he continued, addressing Stanley, " and I have also to apologise to 
 you." 
 
 The apology was accepted, and the strangers left the room, with 
 the view of making inquiries having reference to the arrival of the 
 parties of whom they were really in pursuit. 
 
 " Pray pray, leave this place," said Amelia. " Papa may yet 
 arrive." 
 
 " And if he should," replied Stanley, "it will be useless. He 
 cannot sever us, my girl. You are mine now! mine from this 
 happy hour. "We will, however, return to Carlisle after dinner, if 
 you do not feel too much fatigued ?" 
 
 " Oh, do. It is not far. I should not, indeed, like to remain 
 here." 
 
 It was thus settled. Dinner was ordered, and in a short time 
 
54 STANLEY TiiOKK. 
 
 produced in rather an unexpected style ; but they hail scarcely been 
 seated at the table ten minutes when a dirty post-chaise and pair 
 stopped at the door. 
 
 Stanley rushed to the window immediately, and Amelia, notwith- 
 standing the turn-out was wretched, quickly followed, in the full 
 expectation of seeing her father. 
 
 Before the post-boys had time to dismount, the old gentleman by 
 whom they had been pursued, opened the door of the dirty chaise, 
 and without the slightest unnecessary ceremony, dragged an ex- 
 quisitely-dressed individual out by the heels in the most inelegant 
 manner possible. 
 
 " Hollo ! hollo ! why, what I say my God ! well, may I !" 
 hastily exclaimed the individual in question, as he bumped from 
 step to step, for he didn't understand it. The thing was quite new 
 to him. He hadn't an idea of anything of the sort. Hence he became 
 much confused ; and before he had time to collect his faculties, a 
 fair-haired girl in appearance quite a child sprang from the chaise, 
 and rushed into the arms of the old gentleman, apparently but too 
 happy in having escaped. 
 
 Stanley threw up the window with a view to the perfect enjoy- 
 ment of the scene. He saw at a glance that the "gallant gay 
 Lothario " was anything but a gentleman, and highly relished the 
 supremely ridiculous style in which he rose from the mud to assert 
 his dignity as a man. 
 
 " I claim her as iny wife !" he cried fiercely. " You may be her 
 father, you may be anybody else for what I care : I claim her un- 
 mitigatedly and decidedly as my wife, and I am strongly justifiable, 
 accordin' to the laws of Scotland. I reckonise her before all these 
 gentlemen," he continued, pointing with remarkable energy to the 
 post-boys, whose countenances were at the moment particularly 
 droll, " and accordin' to the laws of Scotland a reckonition is suffi- 
 cient." 
 
 "Take charge of her," said the old gentleman to his friend. 
 " Leave this poor puppy to me." 
 
 The friend was about to lead her in, when the gallant, with due 
 dramatic action, threw his arms round her neck with the view of 
 recovering possession ; but his lady-love cried, 
 
 " Leave me alone. Get away, you mean creature ! Don't touch 
 me. I hate you !" When, as if this were not quite sufficient for 
 flesh and blood to bear, her father clutched his richly-figured satin 
 stock, and inflicted upon him a most exemplary chastisement before 
 he relinquished his hold. 
 
 " Oh !" roared the gay Lothario, whose blood began to boil. " I 
 command satisfaction satisfaction!" and he threw his arms about 
 in a state of mind apparently tottering on the very verge of 
 madness. 
 
 " Satisfaction !" exclaimed the old gentleman, with an expression 
 of contempt. " You miserable, narrow-minded, poor, wretched fool ! 
 You you run away with my daughter !" 
 
 " And what's more, I still claim her as my wife. You're mistaken 
 in your man. You've got the wrong pig by the year. I'm not to 
 
STANLEY THOR2T. , 55 
 
 be flummaxed. I'll not give her up. She's ray wife my lawful 
 wife ; and I'll have her accordin' to the law of Scotland." 
 
 " The law of Scotland, you pitiful scoundrel ! Attempt to follow 
 me into the house, and I'll give you a caning so severe that you 
 shall dream to-night of having dropped into a nest of scorpions. 
 Put the horses in," he continued, addressing the postboys, who 
 enjoyed the scene much ; " but before you do that I'll give you five 
 pounds to cool that fellow's head in a bucket of water." 
 
 This offer had no sooner been made than the postboys rushed at 
 the victim, and having turned him upside down with consummate 
 dexterity, bore him triumphantly into the yard. 
 
 " I have seen that person before," said Amelia. " If I am not 
 much mistaken, he sold me the dress I have on." 
 
 And this proved to be the fact. He was a silkmercer's shopman, 
 who, having a sister officiating as housemaid at a school in the vicinity 
 of Kensington, had, through her instrumentality, obtained interviews 
 with the object of his unalterable love, who was, of course, under- 
 stood to be an immensely rich heiress, and who, having become 
 enamoured of his slavish deportment, as well as of his chains, rings, 
 and brooches, which were of the finest conceivable mosaic gold, had 
 consented without much solicitation to elope. They had scarcely, 
 however, got clear off, when the affair became known to the mistress 
 of the establishment, and through her to the silly girl's father, who 
 at once posted off to the north, and was enabled to reach Gretna 
 first, by going through Pontefract, while they went through Man- 
 chester, and by having during the whole distance four horses, while 
 they had but two, as the mercer found that travelling was very 
 expensive, and that the money he had borrowed for the occasion was 
 getting rather low. 
 
 JNk/thing could exceed the indignation with which the gallant 
 Lothario, when the cooling operation had been performed, ran 
 dripping from the yard, with the postboys laughing and yelling behind 
 him. He raved, stamped, and looked so fiercely, and shook his fists, 
 and threw himself into such a variety of picturesque attitudes, 
 vowing the most heavy and inexhaustible vengeance, bawling through 
 the window to " command an explanation," and asserting his rights 
 according to the law of Scotland ; in short, he was so dreadfully 
 energetic, and worked himself up into such a frightful fever, that in 
 a short time his hair became perfectly dry. 
 
 The postboys now brought round the carriage, and the persecutor- 
 in-chief made his appearance again, with his child in one hand, and 
 his stick in the other. Lothario placed himself before the carriage- 
 door. He wished to argue the point camly. He wished to show 
 that the thing was " an out-and-out do." The old gentleman, how- 
 ever, pushed him aside with great violence, and having stepped into 
 the carriage after his daughter and friend, left the cruelly ill-used 
 individual to reflect upon his fate. 
 
 This incident somewhat raised the spirits of Amelia, who, for the 
 first time since their departure from Richmond, allowed a smile to 
 play upon her lips, which were promptly rewarded. Of course 
 Stanley was too good a tactician to speak then upon any other 
 
56 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 subject than that of the disappointed mercer. Upon this he ac- 
 cordingly dwelt, and in the most amusing strain, until the cloth was 
 removed, when he ordered the carriage and four horses to be brought 
 to the door as soon as possible. 
 
 " My love," said Amelia, when this order had been given, " let us 
 have but a pair. We may meet papa ; and if we should, he will 
 not then suppose it to be us." 
 
 " Oh ! we are sure, my dear, not to meet him ; and, if we 
 should " 
 
 " I would not see him for worlds ! If I were to see him to-day I 
 should die." 
 
 " Well, well ; as you please. The fellow shall drive, if you like ; 
 in which case the carriage will be supposed to be empty." 
 
 " Yes, let him, there's a dear ! let him drive." 
 
 Very well. Orders were given to this effect; and when the 
 pecuniary matters had been arranged to the entire satisfaction of all 
 concerned, they started for Carlisle. 
 
 The spirits of Amelia were now far more buoyant ; and although 
 they returned much more slowly than they went, they appeared to 
 travel infinitely quicker, and were hence within view of Carlisle 
 before they thought of being more than half way. 
 
 Just as they were about, however, to enter the town, a carriage 
 and four came dashing towards them at the rate of nearly twenty 
 miles an hour. 
 
 "That's papa!" cried Amelia. "It's our carriage. Stanley 
 Stanley ! what is to be done ?" 
 
 " Be calm, my love !" said Stanley, " be calm !" and he coolly, 
 but with promptitude, drew up the blinds before the carriages met ; 
 and as they passed, he saw through the little window at the back 
 not only the Captain's carriage, but the Captain himself, urging on 
 the postilions. 
 
 " Now, my Amelia," said Stanley, " we are safe." 
 
 " But he will follow us." 
 
 " No : they will take care of that. I have bribed them too well : 
 besides, their interest will prompt them, if possible to detain him.'* 
 
 " But that poor silly person ?" suggested Amelia. 
 
 " He is not at all likely to come in contact with him." 
 They now reached Carlisle ; and at the inn to which the horses 
 belonged they put up for the night. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 AMELIA RECEIVES HER FIRST IMPRESSIONS OP MARRIED LIFE. 
 
 ON the following morning they left Carlisle, and having stopped a day 
 at Doncaster, a day at Grrantham, and a day at Stamford, they arrived 
 by easy stages in town within the week, and proceeded at once to 
 
STANLEY THOEK. 57 
 
 the house of the widow, where Stanley had decided on remaining 
 until other arrangements could be made. 
 
 The widow, who had received a short letter from Stanley containing 
 a vapue intimation that on his return he might bring home his bride, 
 could not, and would not pretend to understand it. He had not 
 consulted her on the subject, and she most acutely felt that she was 
 the first whom he ought to have consulted. She would not believe it ; 
 for Stanley, himself, on leaving, had told her that he was going out 
 of town for a few days with a friend, which, when she came to reflect 
 upon it calmly, was held to be perfectly conclusive. The very 
 moment, however, Stanley returned and presented Amelia, her ideas 
 on the subject expanded ; and she wept she knew not why, yet 
 she wept and kissed Amelia, and congratulated her warmly, and 
 hoped she would be happy, and gave Stanley a good character, and 
 declared that she highly admired his choice ; but still she could 
 not but feel very deeply that, as a mother, she had privileges, natural 
 privileges, which ought not to have been violated, and that deep 
 feeling caused her to weep and weep again. She nevertheless 
 bustled about, and displayed the most anxious anxiety to make 
 matters perfectly pleasant ; and although at first Amelia would have 
 been perhaps somewhat more at ease had the widow been somewhat 
 less fussy, she soon understood her, and felt quite at home. 
 
 Amelia's first task, on becoming composed, was to write a deeply 
 penitential letter to her father. In the performance of this task she 
 wished Stanley to assist her ; but as they could not agree as to terms, 
 their views on that subject being diametrically opposed, he gave 
 the matter up altogether to her. She began it several times, and 
 finished it several times : it was, however, eventually completed and 
 sent, and the Captain immediately returned it unopened. 
 
 At this Stanley neither felt nor expressed any surprise, it was, 
 in short, precisely what he expected ; but to Amelia it was indeed a 
 most bitter disappointment. The roughest answer that could have 
 been penned would have been endured with more fortitude. Having 
 somewhat recovered from the depression it induced, Amelia wrote a 
 long letter to her mother, couched in terms of the strongest affection, 
 urging every conceivable excuse for the step she had taken, without, 
 however, exciting the belief that she felt that it ought to be excused, 
 and got the widow to direct it. She, of course, felt quite certain of 
 having an answer to this, and therefore waited with the utmost im- 
 patience till the following morning, when indeed a somewhat heavy 
 letter bearing the Eichmond post-mark arrived. The superscription 
 had been written by the Captain. She kissed it, and then broke 
 the seal with great avidity. Its contents were the letter she had 
 written to her mother which had been opened, the handwriting of 
 the widow not being known, and the following note : 
 
 " MADAM, 
 
 Tour husband is a villain ; and, as you have proved your- 
 self unworthy of our affection, we disown you for ever." 
 
 This was signed by both her father and her mother ; but the paper 
 8 
 
58 STANLEY THORX. 
 
 near the almost illegible signature of the latter, was blistered with 
 tears. Amelia well knew from whose eyes they had fallen, and wept 
 bitterly as she placed the cruel note in her bosom. 
 
 " Amelia," said Stanley, whose attention had been firmly fixed upon 
 her, " I do not insist upon seeing any note you may receive ; but in 
 a matter of this description I think that you'ought to conceal nothing 
 from me." 
 
 Amelia again burst into tears as she drew the note slowly from 
 her bosom, and said, " You had better not see it, my love." 
 
 " Well, well. I will not. I understand ; they speak harshly of 
 me." And he returned the note unopened, but extorted a promise, 
 which almost amounted to an oath, that she would never, without his 
 special consent, write again. 
 
 Of course Stanley's former associates no sooner heard of his 
 return, and the purpose for which he had been absent, than they 
 crowded in to lavish upon him their warmest congratulations. For 
 the first three weeks he gave a dinner almost every alternate day ; 
 and as his guests were nearly all unmarried men, they subsequently, 
 at various hotels, gave him dinners in return. This necessarily took 
 him much from home ; for, although he loved Amelia, there was a 
 charm in their society which he could not resist, a joyous spirit 
 which she could not inspire. She zealously strove on all occasions 
 to convince him that she was indeed quite happy ; she strove to talk 
 as gaily, and to smile as sweetly, as before ; but there was at her 
 heart a silent sorrow which overshadowed all. 
 
 Having lived at the widow's about two months, he, at the sugges- 
 tion of his friends, who were perpetually rallying him on the subject 
 of a married man residing with his " ma," engaged a house, which 
 the widow magnificently furnished. When, however, this change 
 was effected, he deserted" Amelia more and more. He might even 
 then have seen the force of that sound objection which her father 
 had urged to their immediate union ; for, as every scene of folly 
 was new to him then, he was strongly, irresistibly seduced by its 
 attractions ; whereas, had he been previously acquainted with those 
 scenes, they would at least have lost the charm of novelty, if indeed 
 they had not actually engendered disgust. He seemed only then to 
 have commenced life. Three, four, five o'clock in the morning were 
 the hours at which he commonly returned ; and when he did return, 
 the effects of the wine he had drunk were almost invariably visible. 
 Amelia, however, never reproached him with a word, nor even with 
 a look of displeasure. Let him return at what hour he might, she 
 would dry up her tears, and fly to meet him ; and, having welcomed 
 and affectionately kissed him, 'would endeavour to make him think 
 that she still felt happy. 
 
 " I am late," he would sometimes say, " very late, Amelia." 
 
 " Oh, do not say a single word about it. I care not how late it 
 is, now that you are at home." 
 
 " You imagine, I fear, that I neglect you.'* 
 
 "Oh, no! indeed, my Stanley, I do not. But," she would add, 
 as the tears trickled down her cheeks, " I cannot but feel overjoyed 
 when you return." 
 
STANLEY THORN. 59 
 
 It was not, however, always that he was able to speak thus 
 rationally on his return ; still he avoided coming home in a state of 
 actual intoxication, until one dreadful morning about four, when the 
 rain had for hours been falling in torrents, while the thunder and 
 lightning had been really terrific. On that occasion two of his most 
 intimate associates accompanied him home, and left him the very 
 moment they had seen him safe in ; but the door had no sooner 
 been closed than he with infinite dexterity slipped down upon the 
 mat, where he sat, firmly resolved to suffer no one to approach him 
 but Bob, whom, by virtue of closing one eye with great muscular 
 energy, he was enabled to see indistinctly with the other. 
 
 Amelia rushed down in a state bordering on distraction, the awful 
 conviction having flashed across her mind that he had been struck 
 by the lightning. 
 
 " My Stanley," she exclaimed, " you are injured much injured 
 tell me oh, speak ! are you not ?" 
 
 " Go to bed Meley go go to bed. I want something some- 
 thing to eat something some eat." 
 
 As Amelia's first fears were subdued, she thanked God ! She now 
 saw the real state of the case, and, with the assistance of his favourite 
 servant, (for he would still suffer no one but Amelia and Bob to 
 touch him,) succeeded in getting him up stairs, when the cloth w:ui 
 immediately laid, and he was placed near the table. 
 
 " Bob ! you old rascal do you hear, sir ? down upon your 
 knees, and pull off my boots." 
 
 Amelia at this moment was standing over him weeping, and as 
 Bob was pulling off one boot, Stanley, lifting his disengaged leg upon 
 the table, stuck the heel of the other into a richly ornamented raised 
 pie, when leaning back in his chair, he rested his head upon the 
 bosom of Amelia, and thus sank at once into a sleep so profound 
 that the process of undressing and lifting him into bed proved quite 
 insufficient to rouse him. 
 
 In the morning, however, Amelia felt amply repaid by the fact of 
 his asking her simply to forgive him. 
 
 " I cannot forgive myself,'' said he ; " I am too much ashamed of 
 my conduct ; but if you will forgive rne^I will give you I don't 
 know how many kisses." 
 
 " I will not forgive you for any number of kisses ; but I will if 
 you will promise that you will remain at home this evening, and that 
 you will never be so naughty again." 
 
 " But why this evening, my love ? You know that Crofton gives 
 his dinner to-day at the Tavistock. Of course I must be there ; but 
 I will leave very early." 
 
 "You really will?" 
 
 " I will indeed." 
 
 "Then on those terms, although you were a very naughty 
 creature, I suppose I must forgive you." 
 
 At the appointed hour Stanley joined his friends at the Tavistock, 
 and according to his promise he did leave early unusually early 
 but instead of returning to Amelia, he turned into Drury Lane 
 Theatie, with tlu> vii-w of seeing a popular low comedian iu " a new 
 
60 STANLEY T1IOHN. 
 
 and entirely original" farce, translated from the French, and founded 
 upon a real English comedy, originally adapted from the German. 
 The house on the occasion was thin a circumstance which at that 
 particular period was by no means unusual, and he sat in a box in 
 the dress circle, near the proscenium, alone. The farce, however, had 
 scarcely commenced when a fine, handsome, gentlemanlike fellow 
 entered the box, and sat beside him. He took no apparent notice of 
 Stanley, nor did Stanley take more than a passing notice of him. 
 He was elegantly dressed : and although the brilliant jewellery he 
 displayed might of itself have tended to generate the idea of foppery, 
 there was an intelligence in his eye, and a thoughtful expression 
 about his lips, which not only at once banished that idea, but in- 
 spired the conviction of his being altogether a superior man. For 
 some time he appeared to be exceedingly attentive to the perform- 
 ance, and occasionally patted one hand with the other slightly, and 
 cried, with a patronising air, sotto voce, " Bravo ! bravo !" 
 
 At length, addressing Stanley, he said, apparently on the impulse 
 of the moment, " He is an excellent actor is he not ?" 
 
 "Very clever," said Stanley " very clever, indeed." 
 
 " In my judgment we have at present no actor on the stage at all 
 comparable with him in his line." 
 
 " There is not one," said Stanley, " whom / so much admire ;" and 
 he proceeded to enlarge upon his peculiar excellencies without the 
 least reserve. 
 
 From this fair point the stranger started other interesting topics, 
 and with great ingenuity drew Stanley fully out by gently fanning 
 his smouldering self-esteem, for as he prided himself, and with reason, 
 upon the facility with which he could read the real character of a 
 man, it was not long before he discovered the weak points of his 
 new friend, and when he had made the discovery, he assailed 
 them with a species of flattery so ingenious that Stanley became 
 quite charmed with his conversation, which developed, indeed, 
 much intelligence, with an apparently profound knowledge of the 
 world. 
 
 " "Who can he be !" thought Stanley. " He is evidently some one 
 of importance. How can I ascertain who he is ?" 
 
 The stranger, as if conscious of what had been passing in Stanley's 
 mind, now, for some time kept silent ; but said, aa the curtain was 
 about to fall, " Well, we may in our travels meet again." 
 
 " Nothing," said Stanley, " would give me greater pleasure." 
 
 " Which way do you walk ?" 
 
 " Westward," replied Stanley. 
 
 " I shall be happy to accompany you as far as I go." 
 
 Stanley bowed, and having taken the proffered arm, they left the 
 theatre together. 
 
 "I generally drop in here," said the stranger, on reaching the 
 entrance of an hotel under the piazza of Covent Garden. " They 
 give you a magnificent glass of champagne, and there is nothing I 
 more enjoy after sitting in a hot theatre. I shall pass, however, 
 this evening unless, indeed, you are disposed to join me ?'' 
 
 " Oh ! I have no objection," returned Stanley, " not the slightest." 
 
STANLEY THOE^. Gl 
 
 The stranger at once led the way ; and having reached the coffee- 
 room above, ordered a bottle of iced champagne, and then began to 
 relate a variety of anecdotes, which could not in any case have failed 
 to impart pleasure. Another bottle was ordered. Stanley was 
 charmed. He had never met so splendid a fellow before ; in a word, 
 he was so entertaining, so full of wit and spirit, that it was past 
 three before Stanley thought it was one. 
 
 " "Well," said the stranger, when they had finished the second 
 bottle, " I am sorry to make a move ; but I promised to look in at my 
 club ; where, by the bye, I shall be happy to introduce you, if you 
 are not in haste." 
 
 " I should like it much," said Stanley ; " but not to-night. It is 
 getting very late." 
 
 " Well well ! another time. Let me see. To-morrow I dine 
 with Chesterfield ; but the next day. Have you any engagement 
 for Friday ?" 
 
 " I am not at this moment aware that I have : I think not." 
 
 " Well, come and dine with me here, then, on Friday?" 
 
 "I will. At what time?" 
 
 "Why, say seven." 
 
 This was agreed to, and the stranger wrote with a pencil, " To 
 meet at seven," upon a card, on which was engraved, " Colonel 
 Palmer" and presented it to Stanley. 
 
 He then drew out his purse, and Stanley produced his. 
 
 " No, no," said the Colonel ; " this is mine. You shall pay for the 
 next ;" and, having settled the amount, they rose to quit the hotel. 
 
 " By the way," said the Colonel, as they descended the stairs, 
 11 were you ever in one of the salons about here ?" 
 
 " No," said Stanley. " Are there many of them ?" 
 
 " There used to be several ; but I have not been in one of them for 
 years. They were the places for those who wished to see life! 
 What say you ? Shall we step into one for five minutes ?" 
 
 " It is so very late," urged Stanley. 
 
 " So it must always be to see them to advantage. But come ; 
 now we are here, five minutes can be of no importance. They are 
 places which every man of the world ought to see. I pledge you 
 my honour I'll not stop long." 
 
 Stanley could not resist. He thought, indeed, of his promise to 
 Amelia ; but held the fact of his having broken that promise already 
 to be a sufficient excuse for going at once with the Colonel. 
 
 They had scarcely walked three hundred yards, when they stopped 
 at a gaily-painted door, and, having knocked, were admitted by a 
 peculiarly ill-looking fellow, who had previously withdrawn a slide, 
 and examined them through a hole about six inches square, with a 
 singularly scrutinising aspect. They then ascended a flight of gaudy 
 gingerbread stairs, and entered a room, in which about forty persons 
 were assembled, the majority of whom were females, dressed in a 
 style the most attractive and superb. Several of these creatures ran 
 up to the Colonel, with the apparent view of addressing him with the 
 utmost familiarity, but a peculiar look from him at once repulsed 
 them, which Stanley thought etrange, although, instead of inducing 
 
t)2 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 the slightest suspicion, it tended to convince him still more of the 
 superiority of the man. 
 
 " Well,'" said the Colonel, " we must have a glass of negus, and 
 then we'll be off." 
 
 The negus was ordered and produced, and they seated themselves 
 to contemplate the gay scene before them ; but the moment they 
 had done so, a finely formed girl, who appeared to be very young, 
 and was really very handsome, came and sat beside Stanley. 
 
 11 How can you be so selfish ?" she playfully observed. " The idea 
 of you two gentlemen drinking alone, when I am dying to wet 
 my lips." 
 
 " Drink, my girl drink !" said Stanley, passing the glass. " It is 
 not very good." 
 
 The girl nearly finished the glass before she ventured to pronounce 
 her unbiassed opinion. She then declared that it tasted like maho- 
 gany and water, and suggested, in addition, that if she chose, the 
 chances were that she could get a glass nearer the mark. 
 
 " Well, do so," said Stanley, as he placed half-a-crown in her 
 hand ; " let us see the extent of your influence." 
 
 " No, no," said the Colonel ; "" we had better be off. Come, let 
 us have no more. I feel stupid already." 
 
 " You need have no more, you know, Colonel," eaid the girl, wLo 
 received a withering scowl for her pains. 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" exclaimed Stanley, " you are recognised ! Well, 
 come, one more, and then." 
 
 The Colonel now suddenly and very unaccountably exhibited 
 striking symptoms of intoxication. Stanley could not at all under- 
 stand it. "My good fellow," said he, "why how is this? You 
 were very well just now." 
 
 " I have a very poor head," replied the Colonel, " a most unfor- 
 tunate head. 1 can scarcely stand anything at all." 
 
 The girl now returned with the negus ; and having carefully put 
 her lips to it, and said that it was different stuff altogether which 
 was in reality a fact she gave it to Stanley, who drank of it with more 
 than usual freedom, although it appeared to him to have a most re- 
 markable flavour. Without, however, mentioning this (for he did not 
 pretend to understand much about it), he handed the glass to the 
 Colonel, who would not touch a drop, for his symptoms of inebriety 
 continued to increase, and he pronounced himself to be " too far gone 
 already." 
 
 Stanley was now entertained by the female. She had a brief 
 tale to tell of every person- in the room, and succeeded in occupy- 
 ing his attention until his articulation became somewhat indis- 
 tinct, which the Colonel no sooner perceived than he cried, <; Come, 
 finish your glass, and let us be gone. I never felt so queer in my 
 life." 
 
 Stanley himself now began to feel somewhat confused ; and, as he 
 had an unnatural thirst at the moment, he at once emptied the gll 
 but ho had no sooner done so than the room seemed to whirl round 
 and round witli <: ity. He attempted 10 rise. The effort 
 
 made liim wov . .in on the instant. 
 
STANLEY THORN. 
 
 63 
 
 " Hollo !" cried the Colonel. "What, have you caught it, too ? 
 Well, never mind, old boy ! we can't laugh at each other." 
 From that moment Stanley became insensible. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIEST TTIGHT OUT. 
 
 As Amelia had been led to expect Stanley at eleven, when the clock 
 struck one she began to experience that species of painful anxiety, of 
 which it is to be hoped men in general are ignorant, inasmuch as 
 their ignorance of it alone can rescue them from the heavy charge of 
 absolute cruelty. Stanley had never before forfeited his word. 
 Whenever he had said .distinctly that he would be at home at such 
 an hour, at that hour he had invariably returned. Still, could she 
 have seen him then, she would have been quite content ; for she 
 chided her impatience, and conceived for him numerous excuses, and 
 contended with herself that she ought not to expect him to run away 
 at a moment's notice, as if indeed he were her slave ; which, of course, 
 was very amiable, and for the time being had a good effect. 
 
 Two o'clock came. She rose and went to the piano, with the view 
 of learning a new song ; but this was a task she was utterly unable 
 to accomplish. Although her eyes followed the notes and the words 
 with due precision, her thoughts were of Stanley, and him alone. 
 
 The clock struck three. This is not quite kind, thought Amelia. 
 But that thought was instantly checked ; she would not cherish the 
 idea of his unkindness for a moment ; she conceived it to be unjust ; 
 and hence, in order to banish it effectually, she opened a new and 
 popular novel, which, however, failed to interest her. Still she kept 
 her eyes fixed upon its pages, and tried to enter into its spirit, until 
 the clock struck four, when she burst into tears. For the first time 
 she felt that she was neglected, and that feeling was fraught with a 
 terrible pang. And clearly, had she been able to ward it off much 
 longer, she must have been either more or less than mortal. Xo 
 creature ever loved with more warmth and devotion, none could ever 
 have been more gentle, more patient, more confid iig ; but let those 
 who may be inclined to deem her suspicions of neglect either wholly 
 unjustifiable or premature, compare her former posit ion with thatwhich 
 she occupied then. But a few weeks before she was the centre of a 
 circle of affectionate relatives and friends, the beloved of all by whom 
 she was surrounded. All strove to anticipate her wishes, to con- 
 tribute in every possible way to her happiness ; and enjoying, as she 
 did, to the full extent their sweet society, she was happy, 
 buoyant, and gay. These friends, this society, this happiness, she 
 had sacrificed for one in whom her heart of Iv ht her to 
 
 !;de, but who neglected her, not, indeed, from . re to 
 
 do BO. but frr want of resolution to avoid thosp temptations \vhich he 
 
64f STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 ought before their union to have taught himself to resist. She had now 
 no society, no friends around her ; she had given up all for him, and 
 he was almost continually absent. Who, then, can marvel that she 
 experienced painful feelings ! Oh, how much misery and vice would 
 be averted if they who possess every blessing which parental affection 
 can impart, with every comfort which affluence can collaterally 
 yield, were deliberately to weigh present happiness against the pros- 
 pect of realising that which is based upon hope ! 
 
 "Surely," exclaimed Amelia, "something dreadful must have 
 happened ! He must have met with some very sad accident ; he 
 must have been maimed or robbed by heartless ruffians perhaps 
 murdered !" 
 
 Something of a serious nature she felt sure had occurred, or he cer- 
 tainly would not have remained out so late. Yet what could she do ? 
 Should she send to the hotel ? He surely could not, under the cir- 
 cumstances, be angry if she were to do so ? She rang the bell at 
 once, and, on being informed that Bob was in bed, desired William 
 to get into the first cab he met, and to hasten to the Tavistock. 
 
 " Do not," she added, " on any account send in. Simply inquire 
 if your master is there, and come back to me as quickly as possible." 
 
 The servant started, and Amelia paced the room in a state of 
 anxiety the most intense ; for since she had conceived the probability 
 of his having been injured, the belief was each succeeding moment 
 more and more confirmed. She opened the window, and went out 
 on the balcony, and listened to every footstep and every vehicle that 
 approached ; but as this was a source of continual disappointment, 
 she paced the room again, resolved to wait until the servant re- 
 turned, with all the patience she could summon. 
 
 At length a cab stopped at the door, when she rang the bell 
 violently, and flew to the stairs. It was a single knock, and her 
 heart sank within her. The door was opened, and William entered 
 to convey the intelligence that the hotel was closed ; that not a light 
 was to be seen ; and that he had rung the bell again and again with- 
 out obtaining an answer. 
 
 What was to be done ? A thousand new fears were conceived in 
 an instant. She rang the bell for her maid ; she could no longer 
 bear to be alone ; her mind was on the rack, and every fresh appre- 
 hension teemed with others of a character more and more appalling. 
 
 " G-ood Heavens ! Smith, what am I to do ?" she exclaimed, as her 
 maid entered. " What is to be done ?" And she again burst into 
 tears, which for a time overwhelmed her. 
 
 " My dear, dear lady, cheer up. Don't distress yourself, pray 
 don't. He can't be long now ; he is sure to return soon." 
 
 '* Oh ! Smith, I fear not. I fear that some frightful accident has 
 happened. Sit down and stay with me. If he don't soon return I 
 shall go mad." 
 
 Smith did as she was desired ; but she had not been seated long 
 before she began to nod and breathe very hard. Amelia started up 
 to pace the room again, but Smith was unable to keep her eyes open 
 even for an instant ; and as in a very short time her hard breathing 
 amounted to a most unpleasant snore, her mistress dismissed her to bed. 
 
STANLEY TIIOR^. 65 
 
 The clock struck five, and Amelia was again quite alone. Her 
 state of mind was now frightful. Every horrible accident that could 
 be conceived she imagined by turns had befallen Stanley. She again 
 went to the window, and after looking out upon the darkness for 
 some time, so excited and so nervous that the motion of a mouse 
 would have alarmed her, she was about to return to the fire, when 
 she was startled by the sound of a harsh cracked voice upon the 
 stairs. Her blood chilled, and she became motionless ; she listened, 
 and trembled violently as she listened ; it was some man singing ! 
 The tune changed, and the tones became nearer and more harsh, and 
 
 she distinctly heard the words, 
 
 
 
 " Oh, the roses is red, and the wiolets is blue, 
 
 And the type of infection's the dove ; 
 But then neither doves, roses, nor wiolets won't do 
 For to match with the gal wot I lo-o-o-ove, 
 For to match with the gal wot I love." 
 
 Who was it? Whom on earth could it be? Some burglar, 
 perhaps, whom drink had made reckless ? She was about to dart 
 from the window to the bell, with the view of summoning assistance ; 
 but as at the moment she heard the handle of the door turn, she 
 flew behind the curtain in a state of miud the most dreadful that 
 can possibly be conceived. The door opened, and she heard some 
 one enter and walk across the room. She was half dead with fright ; 
 she did not dare to touch the curtain ; but as she at length sum- 
 moned courage sufficient to look through an opening, she saw the 
 back of a man without his coat standing thoughtfully before the fire. 
 She felt as if she could have sunk into the earth. Her agitation 
 was excessive. The next moment, however, the man turned his head, 
 and she beheld Bob in a fit of somnambulism, with a pair of 
 Stanley's boots in his hand ! She had heard of his being a somnam- 
 bulist, but had never before seen him in that character; and, 
 although her apprehensions having reference to the crime of burglary 
 vanished, she would neither make her appearance, nor allow herself 
 with any degree of freedom to breathe. 
 
 Bob stood before the fire for a considerable time, and when he felt 
 himself thoroughly comfortable and warm, he began again to sing 
 the refrain touching the character of the girl whom he loved. He 
 then placed the boots upon the rug, and his candle upon the table 
 near the tray which had been set out for chocolate, and upon which 
 were two peculiarly shaped bottles, one containing marschino, and 
 the other curacoa, of which Stanley after chocolate w r as especially 
 fond. Bob looked at these bottles for a minute or two, as if some 
 powerful inclination had been struggling with his conscience ; but 
 it appeared that his conscience submitted to a defeat, for he poured 
 out a glass of maraschino and drank it. He then looked steadily at 
 the bottle beside it, and at length helped himself to a glass of curacoa; 
 not indeed because he appeared to dislike the maraschino by no 
 means : it was manifest that his object was simply to taste both, 
 that he might know which was fairly entitled to his preference. This 
 point, however, he appeared to be even then unable to decide with 
 9 
 
66 STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 any degree of satisfaction to himself. He rolled his tongue over 
 and over, and nodded, and winked, and smacked his lips with due 
 gusto in honour of each ; and as he evidently fancied that both were 
 particularly pleasant, he naturally felt that he should like to as- 
 certain precisely how they relished together. Actuated by this 
 highly laudable impulse, he poured out about half a glass of maras- 
 chino, and then filled it up to the brim with cura9oa, and having 
 placed the two bottles exactly where he found them, he drank the 
 delicious mixture, and, by smacking his lips louder than before, 
 really appeared to approve of it highly. His attention was then 
 directed to the appearance of the glass, which, by dint of zealous 
 rubbing and breathing for he found the task exceedingly difficult 
 of accomplishment, in consequence of the glutinous character of 
 the liqueurs he eventually polished with the blue cotton kerchief he 
 wore round his neck ; when, having tied that little article on again 
 with care, he re-established the glass upside down in the proper spot, 
 took up his light, and walked from the room with all the deliberate 
 dignity in his nature. 
 
 Amelia now quitted her place of concealment, and sank into a 
 chair in a state of exhaustion. It was six o'clock, her thoughts 
 reverted to Stanley, and as her mind came again quite fresh upon the 
 subject, she conceived a fresh variety of fears. That which took the 
 firmest hold was, that Stanley and her father had met the previous 
 evening ; that of course they had quarrelled ; that a challenge had 
 passed between them ; and that they had both kept from home, with 
 the view of meeting each other at day-break in the field. She knew 
 the high resolute spirit of her father ; she knew also the fiery dis- 
 position of Stanley ; and felt that, under the existing circumstances, 
 a duel would be the inevitable result of their meeting. She then 
 dwelt upon the probability of either her father being killed by 
 Stanley, or Stanley being killed by her father, with an effect so 
 terrible, that she became almost frantic. 
 
 Seven, eight, nine o'clock came ; still Stanley did not return. She 
 rang again for the servants. She knew several of the friends with 
 whom he had dined the previous evening, and to them she sent at 
 once to ascertain what they knew about Stanley. 
 
 The answer in each case was, that he had left the party early in 
 the evening alone, which had the game effect upon her as if her 
 worst fears had been absolutely realized. She was distracted ; she 
 knew not what to do ; nor had she a single soul near her with whom 
 to advise. 
 
 At length she sent for a coach, and attended by one of the servants, 
 proceeded to the house of the widow, whom she found just sitting 
 down to breakfast, and who became so excessively alarmed on per- 
 ceiving Amelia's agitation, that she almost fainted. 
 
 " Good gracious !" she exclaimed, " what on earth is the matter ? 
 "What has happened to Stanley ? My dear girl, what is it ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell what," replied Amelia, in tears ; " but I am sure 
 that something dreadful has occurred. He has not been home all 
 night!" 
 
 " Ho !" exclaimed the widow, between a whisper and a groan, as 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 67 
 
 if the announcement had really to some extent relieved her, when, 
 kissing Amelia affectionately, she added, " My child, we must hope 
 for the hest. Let us hope that he is at home even now. I'll go 
 with you at once. Depend upon it, my love, you will find him 
 when you return." 
 
 They therefore immediately started, and on the way it was 
 evident that the widow had something in her more experienced head, 
 of which Amelia had happily no conception. She was not, however, 
 without her apprehensions, although they were neither so lively nor 
 so terrible as those of Amelia, until she was informed of the assumed 
 probability of Stanley and Captain Joliffe having met, quarrelled, 
 and fought, when her alarm became, if possible, more frightfully 
 intense than even that of Amelia herself. 
 
 " Gracious !" she cried, raising her hands, aud assuming an 
 expression of horror. " And is your father bloodthirsty, my love ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear me, no ! quite the reverse !" 
 
 " But has he been accustomed to shooting, my dear ?" 
 
 " He is a soldier," returned Amelia. 
 
 " I see it all ! I see it all ! My Stanley is no soldier ; he never 
 had, to my knowledge, a pistol in his hand. He is sacrificed ! 
 cruelly sacrificed ! My love, send to Richmond this moment send 
 instantly, to ascertain whether Stanley has been heard of, and whether 
 the Captain, your father, be at home. Send Robert ; he will make 
 the most haste." 
 
 Bob was accordingly summoned, and desired to mount his swiftest 
 horse immediately, to gallop to Richmond to make the necessary 
 inquiries, and then to gallop back with all possible despatch. 
 
 " Fly ! fly !" cried the widow ; " stop for nothing ! The very life 
 of your master may depend upon your speed !" 
 
 Not another word was needed to put Bob upon his mettle. The 
 moment he heard that, he darted round to the stable, twisted a 
 halter into the mouth of his best horse, and having mounted, dashed 
 out of the yard as he was. 
 
 "Oh! these duels! these duels! these duels!" exclaimed the 
 widow. " He is murdered, my love ! / am sure of it." 
 
 " Hush !" cried Amelia, darting wildly to the window, as a coach 
 at the moment drew up to the door. The widow followed. The 
 coachman slowly descended from his box, and knocked loudly. 
 Amelia could not breathe, her anxiety was so intense : but when, on 
 the door being opened, she saw Stanley alight, she clasped her hands 
 fervently, and falling on her knees, mentally offered up a thanks- 
 giving. 
 
 " My love my dearest love !'' said Amelia, at length, faintly, " you 
 look ill very ill. I much fear even now that something dreadful 
 has occurred." 
 
 " No no, my sweet girl ; nothing nothing of importance." 
 
 "Tell me," said Amelia anxiously, "that nothing serious has 
 happened, and I shall feel as if in heaven !" 
 
 " Nothing serious lias happened, I assure you, upon my honour." 
 
 "Are you sure quite sure," said the widow, "that you have not 
 been engaged in a duel ?" 
 
68 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 11 A duel !" cried Stanley. " How came you to think of a duel ?" 
 
 " Oh, we bad a thousand thoughts," said Amelia. " "We have 
 been tortured with a thousand apprehensions. But, my love, 
 you are faint. Come, draw near tne fire, You look very very 
 pale." 
 
 " I will just step into my room for one moment, and then we will 
 sit down together, that I may give you a full explanation." 
 
 This, however, he had no intention of doing ; nor could he have 
 done so had he even been disposed, for he had been in a state of 
 insensibility from half-past three that morning until ten, when he 
 found himself in a station-house, lying on a board before the fire, 
 and surrounded by a number of policemen, from whom he ascer- 
 tained that he was discovered in Covent Garden Market about five, 
 fast asleep on a pile of carrots, with his pockets turned completely 
 inside out. He was also informed, that as he looked very ill, the 
 inspector, instead of placing him in a cell, had allowed him to lie 
 near the fire, and that he would have to go at eleven before a magis- 
 trate, as a pure official matter of course. On hearing this he rose, 
 and eent at once for a friend, but felt particularly queer ; and, on 
 making his appearance at the appointed hour before the magistrate, 
 he was fined " five shillings for being drunk," and discharged. He 
 hud no knowledge whatever of the way in which he had been robbed. 
 The value of his watch was about fifty guineas, and he had in his 
 purse between twenty and thirty pounds. For his loss he cared but 
 little ; his chief object was to invent a specious tale to tell Amelia ; 
 and that object he had scarcely accomplished when he returned to 
 the room. 
 
 " Well," said the widow, when they had been sitting for some 
 time, " and what was it after all that caused your absence r 1 " 
 
 " The thing is soon explained," replied Stanley, " very soon. 
 The fact is, I was coming home early, according to my promise ; and 
 being foolish enough to walk, I was attacked near the Haymarket 
 by a mob of cowardly ruffians, by whom I was knocked down, robbed, 
 and left insensible ; in which state, I presume, some kind creature 
 found me ; for on awaking I perceived that I had been carried to 
 nn hotel, and placed comfortably in bed." 
 
 " Heaven bless him !" cried Amelia. " I wish to goodness we 
 knew him, that we might thank him as he deserves. But you are 
 hurt," she continued, starting up with the view of examining his 
 head. " I feel sure that you are hurt, you look so dreadfully pale." 
 
 " No, indeed I am not. They simply stunned me ; that was all ; 
 I feel nothing of it now." 
 
 " And what hotel did they take you to, dear ?" inquired the widow, 
 who did not by any means believe a single word of it. " What is the 
 name of the hotel ?" 
 
 " I think they call it Pequcen's. I am not quite sure, but I 
 think it's Pt-queen's. I was, however, so anxious to get home that 
 I did not take any particular notice." 
 
 The incredulous widow deemed it prudent to press this matter no 
 
 ' farther ; at which Stanley was by no means displeased. It was the 
 
 very first direct and deliberate falsehood he had ever told; and 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 69 
 
 nothing could surpass the deep feeling of humiliation he at the 
 moment experienced. It was a meanness at which his spirit; revolted, 
 and the blood rushed to his cheeks for very shame. 
 
 A servant now entered to announce the return of Bob, and Stanley, 
 of course, inquired where he had been. 
 
 " "We sent him to Richmond," said Amelia. "We feared " 
 
 " To Richmond !" cried Stanley, with an expression of amazement, 
 " to Richmond ! Good Heavens! surely you don't mean to say that 
 you sent him to inquire for me there !" 
 
 " I am sorry truly sorry, if you are displeased ; but really I 
 knew not what to do. I was nearly distracted. But, indeed, it was 
 the very last place. I sent fir&t to inquire of every friend I could 
 think of. I did, indeed." 
 
 " Sent first to inquire of every friend ! Then the thing is by this 
 time all over the country! But, how could you think that they 
 knew anything of me at Richmond ?" 
 
 " I feared, my love, that you had met papa ; that you had quar- 
 relled ; and that either he had challenged you, or you had challenged 
 him." 
 
 " And the moment," said the widow, in continuation, " the very 
 moment I heard of the probability of such a thing, I suggested that 
 Robert should be immediately despatched to ascertain if it really 
 were so." 
 
 " I suspected it was one of your brilliant thoughts, mother," said 
 Stanley, with considerable bitterness. 
 
 " Believe me," said Amelia, " we did everything for the best. 
 You cannot conceive what a horrible state of mind we were in." 
 
 " Well, the thing is done," said Stanley, " and cannot be undone. 
 Send Bob up," he continued, addressing the servant. " I would not 
 have had it happen for five thousand pounds." 
 
 Bob, who was already at the door, now appeared in a state of 
 steaming perspiration. He panted, and blew out his cheeks to 
 some considerable extent, and smoothed his hair, and looked as if 
 he had not a dry thread about him. 
 
 " Well !" said Stanley, " whom did you see ?" 
 
 " I saw the Captain and Mrs. Jolifte. They had me in, sir, and 
 said they knew nothing about where you was." 
 
 "Did they say nothing more ?" inquired Amelia. 
 
 " No, ma'am," replied Bob; "nothing more; only the Captain 
 s;id it was just what he expected, and theu his lady set off crying 
 fit to break " 
 
 " There, leave the room!" cried Stanley, with some fierceness, which 
 Bob, as he obeyed, thought stiikingly ungrateful; for he really bad 
 done the whole four-and -twenty mik-s in less than, an hour and a 
 Irilf; and he held it within himself to be questionable whether he 
 should have done the entire distance in so short a space of time, had 
 he known before what he knew then. 
 
 While Bob was engaged iu the development of his feelings 
 by rubbing himself dry with unparalleled severity, Stanley and 
 Amelia were sitting in silence ; for, while the former felt galled 
 at the idea of the affair having been published so extensively, the 
 
70 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 thoughts of the latter being at Eichmond, induced as usual a fit of 
 sadness. 
 
 Stanley's reverie was, however, soon at an end, for his friends came 
 pouring in with the view of ascertaining if they could do him any 
 service by backing him up. 
 
 While Stanley was engaged with the last of these gentlemen, 
 Amelia herself had a visitor one whom she did not by any means 
 expect, and who was announced as a lady closely veiled, who had 
 arrived in a hackney-coach, who had refused to send up either her 
 name or her card, and who wished to speak immediately with " Mrs. 
 Thorn "alone. 
 
 Amelia, who was still very nervous, looked upon these indications 
 of mystery with alarm ; and the widow, who had conceived a variety 
 of ideas having reference to Stanley's indiscretion, contended that 
 she was the more proper person to receive the mysterious stranger. 
 Amelia of course readily yielded, and the widow at once bustled down, 
 in the full expectation of seeing some creature with far more bold- 
 ness than virtue. She was prepared for her, however, let her be 
 whom she might, and hence bounced into the room with an aspect 
 indicative of dignity on the one hand, and inflexibility on the other. 
 
 The stranger rose, and bowed slightly, and then observed that she 
 was anxious to see Mrs. Thorn. 
 
 " My name is Thorn," said the widow. 
 
 The stranger again bowed, and then said, " Mrs. Stanley Thorn 
 is the lady I wish to see." 
 
 " She is not quite well this morning," observed the widow. 
 
 " I am aware of it," said the stranger. " But probably you will 
 do me the favour to state that I am a very old friend, and will not 
 long detain her." 
 
 The widow moved, and was on the point of saying something about 
 whom she should have the honour to announce to Mrs. Stanley, and 
 so on ; but the manner of the stranger was so ladylike and gentle 
 that she bowed and retired completely disarmed. 
 
 " She is rather an elderly person," said the widow on her return 
 to Amelia. " I cannot exactly make her out ; but at all events I 
 think that you may see her with perfect safety." 
 
 Amelia at this moment experienced a most extraordinary sensation. 
 She could not account for it- It might have proceeded from the 
 painful state of nervous excitement in which she had been kept 
 during the night ; but she certainly never had so strange a feeling 
 before. She however went down, although excessively agitated, and 
 on entering the room saw her mother ! 
 
 " My dear dear mama !" she exclaimed, rushing into her arms. 
 " What joy to see you here !" 
 
 These were the only words that passed for some moments. Every 
 feeling was merged in that of affection. Their hearts beat in 
 unison Nature was triumphant. 
 
 " Heaven bless you, my child ! bless you !" sobbed the affectionate 
 mother. " My heart is too full to allow my feelings to be expressed." 
 And as she spoke the big tears gushed from her eyes, while Amelia, 
 who clung to her, kissed her with heartfelt emotion, 
 
STANLEY THORN. 71 
 
 "Oh, this is kind indeed!" said Amelia, "most kind. It is 
 more than I could have expected, much more than I deserve.*' 
 And, as at the moment she appeared to have been awakened to a 
 sense of her position, she with downcast eyes dropped upon her 
 knees. 
 
 " I came not to reproach you, my love ; I came not for the pur- 
 pose of wounding your feelings, but simply to learn if you are treated 
 kindly here?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes most kindly," replied Amelia. " My Stanley is most 
 affectionate. He does all in his power to promote my happiness. 
 Indeed he is a dear good creature. I cannot sufficiently love him." 
 
 " My child, conceal nothing from me. This morning you sent to 
 our house. He had been out all night, and " 
 
 "Yes yes; he unfortunately met with an accident. He was 
 knocked down by some heartless persons, who, having robbed him, 
 left him insensible." 
 
 " He is then seriously injured ?" 
 
 " Thank Heaven !" cried Amelia, " he is not : although I am sure 
 they have injured him more than he will admit, he is so anxious to 
 conceal from me everything calculated to give me the slightest pain." 
 
 " Then in general he behaves with great kindness ?" 
 
 " Oh, invariably !" replied Amelia. " There is nothing in his con- 
 duct of which I can complain. There is nothing, in fact, which does 
 not deserve the warmest praise." 
 
 " I am happy to hear it. My mind is now relieved. I much 
 feared that it was otherwise, and therefore determined to steal away 
 this morning, in order to ascertain from your own lips if it were so." 
 
 " But you will not leave me yet ?" 
 
 " I must, my dear child. I must return as quickly as possible. 
 No one has the slightest idea of my coming. It must, moreover, be 
 kept a profound secret still." 
 
 " Mamma !" exclaimed Amelia, in a tone which could not fail 
 to touch the heart. " Dear dear mamma, kiss me and forgive me ! 
 Pray pray, mamma, forgive me !" and again she sank imploringly 
 upon her knees, and sobbed bitterly. 
 
 " I do, my child, forgive you. Prom my heart, from my soul, I 
 forgive you." 
 
 " Bless you ! bless you ! bless you !" cried Amelia, as she kissed 
 the trembling hand of her mother passionately, and bathed it with 
 tears. " Then I may hope that you will endeavour to obtain for us 
 the forgiveness of dear papa. Nothing but that is required now to 
 perfect our happiness. You will ? Dear mamma ! let me beg of 
 you oh ! let me implore you " 
 
 Amelia at this moment was so extremely energetic that her 
 piercing voice reached the ears of Stanley, who darted at once into 
 the room ; and, having raised her, bowed distantly to Mrs. Joliffe, 
 and said, " Amelia is not now in a fit state to bear reproaches." 
 
 "No no, Stanley, no!" exclaimed Amelia, "you mistake, my 
 love. Mamma has been kind very kind." 
 
 "I beg pardon," said Stanley. "I feel, of course, grateful for 
 any kindness that may have been shown." 
 
72 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 Mrs. Joliffe offered her band, which Stanley felt but too happy to 
 take. " I have not time now," she observed, " to say another 
 syllable. Amelia will explain all. I must return with all possible 
 speed. Adieu, iny children ! Heaven bless you both !" 
 
 " But you'll allow me to see you home !" said Stanley. 
 
 "By no means." 
 
 " Well, part of the way ?" 
 
 "Yes, do, mamma, do!" said Amelia. 
 
 " "Well, a very short distance. I return by the stage." 
 
 She then took an affectionate farewell of Amelia, by whom she 
 was accompanied to the door, and when Stanley had handed her into 
 the coach, he ran back for a moment, and said to Amelia, " Do not 
 wait dinner, my love : I will, if possible, go all the way." 
 
 Amelia was delighted ; she looked upon a speedy reconciliation as 
 certain ; and as the coach drove from the door, she turned to shed 
 tears of joy. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ON reaching Piccadilly, Stanley begged so hard to be allowed to take 
 the coach on at least as far as Kew, that Mrs. Joliffe opposed it 
 only as if she really wished he would. They therefore stopped at 
 the White Horse Cellar, and having engaged a place in the next 
 Richmond stage, rode forward, and soon began to converse with as 
 much freedom as if nothing of importance had happened. He had 
 always been a most especial favourite of Mrs. Joliffe : and during 
 their journey his conversation so charmed her that she not only began 
 to feel by no means astonished at what had occurred, but really held 
 it to be a pity that they should continue to be separated, and thereby 
 deprived of each other's society. 
 
 Stanley saw that he had made a deep impression, and therefore 
 called all his eloquence into action with the view of making it " deeper 
 and deeper still ;" and in this he so admirably succeeded, that when 
 the stage overtook them at Kew, she shook hands with him in the 
 warmest and most affectionate manner possible, and left, fully re- 
 solved, without any solicitation on his part, to endeavour to effect 
 an immediate reconciliation. 
 
 Stanley now directed his thoughts to Colonel Palmer, conceiving 
 that to be the day for which the engagement had been made ; and, 
 although he had requested Amelia not to keep the dinner waiting, 
 expressly in order that he might meet that gentleman, it will be 
 here quite proper to state that it was an appointment which in any 
 event he was firmly determined to keep. He was anxious to ascer- 
 tain where the Colonel had left him that morning ; in whose society ; 
 at what hour : indeed there were several little particulars connected 
 
STANLEY THOR>*. 78 
 
 with liia adventure upon which he thought his friend might be able 
 to throw a light. 
 
 On reaching town he therefore directed the coachman to drive to 
 the hotel, where he found the gallant Colonel, (who had totally for- 
 gotten his engagement with Lord Chesterfield,) reading the journals 
 of the day. 
 
 Stanley approached him unperceived, and placed his hand upon 
 his shoulder, when the Colonel started up, really as if he had at the 
 moment given birth to the idea of its being some individual who 
 knew him well. This to Stanley was inexplicable, of course ; but 
 the Colonel soon felt himself better, and they shook hands with great 
 cordiality. 
 
 "I scarcely expected," said Stanley, "to find you here thus early." 
 
 " I should not have been here so soon," returned the Colonel, 
 " had I not been deceived by my fool of a watch." 
 
 " That is precisely the thing of which I am destitute," said 
 Stanley. " 1 have no watch to deceive me." 
 
 The Colonel, who appeared to be perfectly ignorant of the matter 
 involved in this quiet intimation, waived that particular branch of 
 the subject by saying, " Well, how did you get home ?" 
 
 " The very point I wish to come at," said Stanley. " I know 
 exactly how I got home ; but of all that occurred between half-past 
 three and five I am utterly unconscious." 
 
 " I never saw such a fellow in my life I" cried the Colonel. " I 
 have known in my time many high-toned dogs, but I never happened 
 to meet with so perfect a devil." 
 
 " Why," said Stanley, who, in accordance with the lively antici- 
 pation of the Colonel, looked upon this as an extremely high compli- 
 ment, " what did I do ?" 
 
 " Do ! You recollect leaving the place where they gave us the 
 vile filthy stuff they call negus r" 
 
 No, indeed I do not." 
 
 " You do not !" cried the Colonel, with an expression of surprise, 
 which was really very clever in its way. " Do you mean to tell me 
 that you do not remember our walking from the room with that 
 woman you were so sweet upon ?" 
 
 " Certainly. I recollect nothing of the sort. But what occurred 
 after that ?" 
 
 " Why, the moment you were out of the place, you called a cab, 
 which I thought very wise, of course expecting that you intended to 
 go home ; but the cab no sooner drew up than you insisted upon 
 the fellow getting inside with me. You would drive. You would 
 have the girl with you on the box. You would see us both home ; 
 for you were sure that we were much too far gone to escape mischief. 
 Well, being at the time nearly as bad as yourself, I consented to 
 get inside with the cabman ; but you and the girl were no sooner 
 on the box than a policeman caught hold of the horse's head, and 
 of course checked at once the development of your skill as a tooler. 
 To the prompt interference of that man I attribute the present un- 
 broken condition of my neck. I had, of course, very different ideas 
 on the subject then, while you were so excessively indignant with 
 
74 STANLEY TSOBff. 
 
 the policeman that you threatened him with instant annihilation. 
 You would fight him. You would bet fifty pounds to a shilling that 
 you would polish him off in the space of three minutes. The man 
 was, however, exceedingly good-natured : and, as I slipped a half- 
 sovereign into his hand, he walked quietly away. I then again 
 endeavoured to persuade you to go home. But, no. Did I think 
 that you were drunk ? Could I really entertain an idea so absurd ? 
 "Why, of course I couldn't then, as you put it so pointedly : still I 
 endeavoured to persude you to go home. Well, you would ; but 
 you must first treat the cabman, and as the fellow promptly offered 
 to point out a place, he led the way to one of the market-houses 
 here in Covent-Garden. Well, on entering this den we found it 
 crowded with a swarm of dirty vagabonds ; you entered at once into 
 the spirit of the scene, and appeared to be perfectly delighted. Your 
 attention was, in the first place, directed to a knot of noisy nymphs, 
 who, although ratlier passee, looked blooming and fair, their cheeks 
 being duly embellished with brick-dust, while the coarse pores of 
 all the other parts of their faces were filled up ingeniously with 
 chalk. Having treated these ladies with raw rum all round (which 
 caused her whom you had brought to start off in high dudgeon,) 
 you turned to a mob of emaciated beings, who appeared to be trem- 
 bling on the brink of starvation. Their appearance was the only 
 thing which seemed to give you no pleasure. They brightened up, 
 however, the very moment you noticed them, and promptly asked 
 what you were going to stand. ' What will you have ?' said you. 
 ' A drain o' gin,' was the reply. In this they were unanimous. 
 * Shall I order half a pint ?' inquired one. ' Half a pint !' you ex- 
 claimed. * Half a gallon!' They all stared, of course ; but half a 
 gallon was ordered, and you paid for it instanter. < Trotters ! trotters ! 
 trotters !* cried a fellow, who had a lot of pigs' pettitoes in a basket. 
 You asked the women if they liked those particular things ; and, as 
 they held them to be delicious, you bought the whole stock, salt and 
 all. Of course they looked upon you as little less than a god ; and 
 when you called for a dance, they got up at once a legitimate three- 
 handed reel without music, as the man who kept the house placed 
 his veto upon the whistling. This seemed to impart to them 
 additional delight ; but as they kept on swallowing the gin with re- 
 markable constancy and freedom, they soon began to drop off like 
 sheep that have been too long in a field of clover. On perceiving 
 this you thought it high time to start yourself; and having given, 
 with a bribe, certain secret instructions to the cabman, you led the 
 way out of the house ; but I had no sooner got into the cab, expectiug, 
 of course, that you would follow, than you closed the door with a 
 bang, and away went the vehicle. I called upon the fellow to 
 stop ; but no : he had received his instructions : he would keep on! 
 I therefore sank back quite resigned to my fate, and thus we parted." 
 Stanley was by no means displeased with the relation of this 
 adventure : he on the contrary laughed very heartily at various points, 
 as if, indeed, he had really done something to be proud of. " But, 
 how very extraordinary," he observed, "that I should not have the 
 slightest recollection of anyone of the circumstances you have named!" 
 
STANLEY THOBN, 75 
 
 " It is wonderful. I have a poor head myself when I have been 
 drinking ; but I recollect everything that happened as perfectly as 
 if I had drunk nothing but water." 
 
 Dinner was now placed upon the table, and Stanley began to 
 explain how he was found by the police upon the carrots ; how he 
 was taken to the station-house without a shilling in his pocket ; how 
 he was marched before the magistrate ; and how he was fined. 
 
 Of course the Colonel expressed himself utterly astonished ! Had 
 he dreamt that such would have been the sequel, no cabman, on 
 earth should have driven him away. " Why, where could you have 
 got to ?" he exclaimed. " But the thing is soon accounted for. 
 Now I come to think of it, there were two thievish, black-looking 
 scoundrels at the bar with those women whom you treated. I have 
 not the smallest doubt that they watched you from the house, and 
 having plundered you, left you asleep as you state. But I really 
 am very sorry. I am, indeed." 
 
 " Oh, it isn't of much importance," said Stanley. " The loss of my 
 watch is the only thing I care for. But, then, it is useless to dwell 
 upon that now. It is gone, and there's an end of it. But how I could 
 have been such an idiot as to act as it appears I did, I cannot conceive." 
 
 The Colonel smiled, and as he had already succeeded so well iu 
 describing the scene generally, he descended to particulars, and gave 
 an infinite variety of amusing imitations of Stanley's tone and 
 manner when in a state of excitement, which, of course, were assumed 
 to be faithful. Upon these he dwelt at large during dinner ; and, 
 as he felt himself bound to be as facetious as possible, he did not 
 fail afterwards to drag into their general conversation the various 
 hits which had had the most palpable effect. 
 
 At length Stanley displayed symptoms of a desire to leave, being 
 most sincerely anxious to be at home very early ; hut the Colonel no 
 sooner perceived this anxiety than he felt it incumbent upon him to 
 subdue it. 
 
 "Well," said he, promptly, without any apparent reference to 
 what he had perceived, " I suppose that, like myself, you have no 
 desire to be out late to-night. We will, therefore, just finish this 
 bottle, and start." 
 
 "Upon my honour I must beg to be excused," said Stanley. 
 
 " Excused !" cried Colonel. " My dear fellow, why ?" 
 
 " Having been out all last night, I wish to be home- this evening 
 early." 
 
 " Well, you will be home early. We shall both be home early. 
 Look at your watch," he added, smiling. " You don't mean to say 
 that you want to turn into bed at nine !" 
 
 " No ; but, upon my word, you must, under the circumstances, 
 excuse me." 
 
 " Now that is unfair. You have made since I saw you another 
 appointment." 
 
 " No, indeed I have not." 
 
 " Then how is it possible for me to excuse you ? Nonsense ! I 
 must have your company this evening. Do you want to have sixteen 
 or twenty hours' sleep to make up for the losd of eight ? Pooh ! 
 
76 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 you'll be in bed soon enough. I don't intend to stop more than two 
 hours myself. You can leave, of course, just when you please." 
 
 Stanley had not explained to the Colonel that he was married ; 
 and, as he had no other sufficient cause to show why the engagement 
 he had made should be broken, he consented to keep it with the full 
 determination to Jeave at eleven precisely. 
 
 " Of course," said the Colonel, when he found that he had firmly 
 fixed his man, " you never play ?" 
 
 " At chess ? or billiards ?" inquired Stanley. 
 
 " They are both noble games, but I alluded more particularly to 
 hazard." 
 
 " I have not the slightest knowledge of the game," said Stanley. 
 " I never saw it played. I have often wished to go into one of those 
 houses ; but I never could make up my mind to go alone." 
 
 " Oh ! you need not go into a common pick-pocketting gambling- 
 house to see the game of hazard. Almost every club in London has 
 its play-room. The Imperial has one the club to -which I belong. 
 If you like, as we are not going to stop, we'll go up to the room at 
 once, and thus avoid the necessity of any formal introduction !" 
 
 " I should like it much better !" said Stanley. " I have for a long 
 time been anxious to see the game played." 
 
 " It is a game which is known to every man of the world," returned 
 the Colonel. " But come ! tempus fugit" 
 
 The bill was therefore ordered and discharged ; and when the cab 
 which they had sent for was announced, they at once started. 
 
 Stanley, however, again thought of home. He felt that he ought 
 to return to Amelia ; but, of course, he could not do so then. Still he 
 was resolved to leave early let what might occur ; and conceiving 
 himself to be perfectly secure in the assumed strength of that reso- 
 lution, he turned to dwell with pleasure upon the prospect before 
 him. 
 
 The Colonel, on the way, seemed to be somewhat more thoughtful 
 than usual : indeed, he scarcely opened his lips until the cab stopped 
 at a very fair-sized house, a circumstance which seemed at once to 
 rouse him from his reverie. 
 
 " "Well, here we are," said he, as the cabman knocked at the door, 
 which was instantly opened by a peculiar looking porter, who 
 appeared to be very anxious to ascertain who they were. He seemed 
 to be satisfied, however, the moment he saw the Colonel; and, 
 having passed through three doors, they ascended the stairs, and 
 were ushered into a room which was lighted up brilliantly. 
 
 In the middle of this room stood a table, round which several 
 persons were sitting, while a man who stood with a rake in hand 
 presided over a cash- box and several heaps of counters, which were 
 marked " ten pound" "five pound" " one pound" " half pound ," 
 and so on. The business of this person was to rake the money and 
 counters towards him, or to throw them to the players as occasion 
 required, and to call " five to three," " six to four," " six to five," 
 " five to four," or whatever the odds happened to be. Considerable 
 sums of money changed hands every moment, and Stanley was as- 
 tonished at the rapidity with which they played. His attention was, 
 

STANLEY THOBX. 77 
 
 however, soon arrested by the Colonel, who introduced him to the 
 proprietor of the " Imperial," whom he found to be an extremely 
 vulgar fellow. "Yer do me proud, sir," said he, " for to wisit my 
 'stablishment. I ope to ave the honour off seem' yer ear offen. D 1 
 yer play, sir ?" 
 
 " Upon my word I have no knowledge of the game," replied 
 Stanley, who was rather amused with the fellow. 
 
 " It's werry heasy ! There's nothink a tall hin it. Set down, sir : 
 I'll learn yer in no time." 
 
 Stanley accordingly sat at a side-table, when the preceptor pro- 
 duced a pair of dice from his naming salamander-coloured velvet 
 waistcoat pocket, and having put them in a box, said, " Look ear ! 
 s'pose yer call seven's the main, there's five mains, f'r instance, five, 
 six, seven, hate, and nine, vich is the on'y chances : but s'pose yer call 
 seven's the main : werry well. Yer throw seven ; veil, that's the nick 
 vich in course vins the money. If yer throw eleven, that's the nick 
 too, vich, in course, vius the money likewise. But, s'pose yer throws 
 five ven seven's the main, f riustance, there's five, yer know kater 
 hace vich is French, then the hods is three to two, or six to four 
 yer know, vich is the same ticket ven, if you throws the five ag'in, 
 yer know, afore ver throws the seven, yer vina both the hods and the 
 stake." 
 
 " But suppose," said Stanley, " I happen to throw two or 
 three ?" 
 
 " Vy, in that case hit's the t'other, 'cos haces, as veil as duce haces, 
 is crabs. But to show as there's long hods ag'in yer doin* that, if 
 yer putt a pound down upon the haces afore yer throws, and throws 
 haces, yer vin thirty pound ; and, if yer putt a pound down on duce 
 hacea, yer then vins fifteen, 'cos there's on'y vun vay off throwing 
 haces, vile there's two vays off throwin' duce haces, yer know." 
 
 " But what do you call crabs ?" 
 
 " Vy> crabs is on'y ven yer don't vin." 
 
 " And how many arc there ?" 
 
 " There's four crabs to the seven, the sisses, the haces, hand the 
 duce haces twice ; five crabs to the hate the haces, the duce haces 
 twice, an' the sis an' sunk twice ; an' six crabs to the nine the 
 sisses twice, the haces, the duce haces twice, hand the sis an' sunk 
 twice ; and, in course, the five his the same as the nine, an' the six 
 his the same as the hate." 
 
 " Then these are the chances in favour of the table ?" 
 
 " Precisely ! There yer 'ave the 'ole thing hat vunce ! I knowed 
 veil you voodent be werry iong a-learnin'. There's two or three more 
 leetle pints vich'll come to yer as nat'ral as clockverk vile playin'. 
 They calls out the hods, and it's hall skvare ear, yer know ! reg'lar 
 hupright an* downstraight." 
 
 At this moment Stanley heard the rapid application of those 
 opprobrious terms, "scoundrel!" "villain!" and "thief!" and, on 
 looking round, beheld to his utter amazement, a fine dashing fellow 
 engaged in the process of wringing the nose of the Colonel. Of 
 course he started up on the instant with the view of assisting his 
 friend; but before he was able to reach him, his vile, cringing, 
 
78 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 cowardly spirit was so conspicuous that Stanley stopped short, with 
 a feeling of disgust. 
 
 " And vort's all this ?" cried Stanley's preceptor. " Vort's 'e bin 
 arter now f' 
 
 "Why do you allow this contemptible blackguard to be at the 
 table ?" demanded the Colonel's fierce assailant. " How can you 
 expect men of character and respectability to come to the house, 
 while you harbour so consummate a scoundrel !" 
 
 " That's hall wery poss'ble," returned the proprietor, pursing his 
 lips, and looking through his shaggy brows. "But vort his 'e 
 bin hat ?" 
 
 " Securing ! and stealing my counters." 
 
 "Vort! the old dodge agin!" 
 
 " It is false !" cried the Colonel, with a look of indignation ; but 
 he had no sooner uttered the words than his accuser turned, and 
 seizing him by the throat, shook him violently, until, in order to 
 escape chastisement, he sank upon the floor. 
 
 " That jist sarvea yer riajht ! Now you and me cuts it. I told yer 
 afore I woodn't 'ave it. I guv yer fair vornin'. Vy, carn't yer do 
 the thing a leetle matters like a genel'man ?" 
 
 The gallant Colonel made no reply. He felt himself reduced to 
 the most minute insignificance. The circumstance of his having hia 
 nose thus pulled was sufficiently painful per se ; but when to this 
 was added the acute mortification with which the fact of Stanley 
 happening to be present at the time teemed, it appeared to be just 
 about as much as he could bear. Had the thing been done in the 
 dark, or even before a select party of friends, to whom his character 
 had previously been known, although he might most unquestionably 
 have winced, he would have cared in reality but little about it ; but 
 the idea of his importance being thus at once demolished, before the 
 eyes of the very man whom he had conceived the most ingenious 
 designs to plunder, really wounded his fine feelings so deeply that he 
 retired, with all the grace of a well-whipped spaniel, to the most 
 remote corner of the room. 
 
 " Is it possible," thought Stanley, as he stood very calmly before 
 the fire, having declined the aifectionate invitation of his preceptor 
 to take a few practical lessons at the table " is it possible that a 
 man so highly educated and accomplished can be so depraved ! The 
 accusation surely must have been talse and yet could any innocent 
 and honourable man have either cringed beneath the infliction of a 
 species of chastisement so degrading, or submitted thus to the 
 snarling of that low vulgar dog ? Do you know that man ?" he 
 inquired of the person by whom the Colonel had been assailed, and 
 who now approached the fire. 
 
 " I know him to be one of the most pitiful villains upon town." 
 
 " Well," said Stanley, " I cannot be astonished at that, having 
 seen what I have ; but I certainly was never so much deceived. He 
 is in the army, is he not ? He styles himself Colonel." 
 
 " Oh, a Colonel is he now ? Last week he was a major, and he 
 has been a lieutenant-general. But what may his name be at 
 present ?" 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 79 
 
 " Palmer," replied Stanley. 
 
 " Ah, Palmer Colonel Palmer and a very good name. It was 
 Dasbwood a few days ago ; but when I first knew him it was 
 Berkeley." 
 
 " But what has he been ?" 
 
 " Why, independently of his having been everything as a soldier, 
 between an ensign and a general, he has been an extensive "West 
 India proprietor, heir to some extraordinary estates in Ireland, an 
 owner of immense undiscoverable mines in the north, a Russian, 
 Prussian, Dutch, and Spanish charge d'affaires, and so on ; but giue* 
 he ran through the property he had left him while at Oxford, he has 
 been what you see him now, a bonnet." 
 
 " A bonnet," said Stanley, "what is that ?" 
 
 " A picker up a jackall a fellow whose occupation is to seduce 
 young men into houses of play to be plundered. He picked you up 
 I knew it the very moment you entered." 
 
 " But surely this is not a common gambling- house ?" said Stanley. 
 
 " Why, what else do you conceive it to be ?" 
 
 " I understood that it was a club." 
 
 " Oh, a club ! So it is yes, they call it a club the Imperial Club. 
 I have not the pleasure of knowing you, nor do you know me : but 
 as I perceive that you have had but little experience in tbese matters, 
 let me tell you that it is what you imagined it was not." 
 
 " Well, I thought that it was strange that a club, according to my 
 acceptation of the term, should be kept by so vulgar a man." 
 
 " Oh, they are all low-bred scamps, from the richest to the poorest. 
 The majority are of the vilest and most degraded caste ; and they 
 engage as bonnets such men as our mutual friend the colonel, who 
 are accomplished, prepossessing, and in many instances highly con- 
 nected. I presume you know little of the game. I saw Sharp 
 teaching you us much as he wished you to know ; but allow me to 
 give you a tew private lessons." 
 
 " You are very polite," said Stanley, " I shall be happy to receive 
 them." 
 
 "Well, then, in the first place, never play at all. Shun gaming 
 as you would a pestilence ; for although a tyro almost invariably wins 
 at first, it is sure to involve him eventually in ruin." 
 
 " A tyro, I suppose, is permitted to win for the purpose of urging; 
 him on ?" 
 
 " Where they happen to be sure of him again. But it is an ex- 
 traordinary fact that, in the absence of all trickery, men almost 
 always win at first as if some evil spirit presided over the game,, 
 with the view of communicating the disease ; for a disease it is, and 
 one which utter ruin cannot cure. I therefore advise you strongly 
 not to play, if you wish to preserve any feeling of honour ; for be 
 assured that, whatever he may profess, or however anxious he may- 
 be to disguise it from himself, no habitual gambler can be a really 
 honourable man. His sole object is to win. If he can do so fairly, it; 
 is well ; but if not, he very soon becomes unscrupulous as to the* 
 means by which that object is attained. Should you ever find th 
 temptation to play irresistible, bear in mind the few points with 
 
82 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 The Colonel blushed deeply as he rose from his tripe, and became 
 somewhat nervous ; but he followed them, nevertheless, into one of 
 the unoccupied rooms on the ground floor. 
 
 "I have reason to believe," said Stanley, on reaching this 
 room, " that I have discovered the scoundrel who robbed me last 
 night." 
 
 "Indeed!" cried the Colonel, turning at the moment very pale. 
 " I am very glad of it," he added, although anything indicative of 
 gladness in his countenance no soul could have perceived, " very, 
 very glad indeed." 
 
 " So am I," cried Stanley ; " and I therefore now call upon you to 
 return my watch, if you value your liberty." 
 
 In an instant the Colonel assumed a look of indignation ; his blood 
 became hot, and his eyes flashed fire. " Sir ! " said he fiercely, as his 
 bosom swelled with wrath, " do you mean to insinuate " 
 
 " Nothing !" cried Stanley, with corresponding fierceness, " I mean 
 to insinuate nothing. I mean to charge you distinctly with having 
 3-obbed me ; and, unless you restore that watch, I will instantly send 
 ior the police." 
 
 " Upon my honour I know nothing of it." 
 
 " Liar !" cried Stanley, " that base look betrays you. Have you 
 got it about you ? Is it here ?" 
 
 " I will not be thus treated !" cried the Colonel ; but scarcely had 
 he uttered the words when Stanley threw him upon his back, and 
 drew a watch from his pocket. It was not the watch in question, 
 nor had he any other ; and as Stanley began to feel that he might 
 have gone a little too far, he relinquished his hold. 
 
 " "Vy, sort's o'clock now!" cried the stumpy proprietor, who entered 
 the room at this moment. " Vort hin the name 'o God and Mighty 
 his it ?" 
 
 " Will you send for a policeman ? Last night this scoundrel 
 robbed me of my watch, and I'm now resolved to make him give 
 it up." 
 
 " Give it hup ! has a matter of course. Kam, none 'o yer 
 warment manoeuvres shell out !" 
 
 " Upon my word I have not got it. I have not, indeed." 
 
 " No, I dares to say not ; ner yer don know vere it his ?" 
 
 " For your own reputation, Sharp, make him restore it," said 
 Stanley's friend. " He is a servant of yours, and you are therefore 
 to some extent involved." 
 
 "Do me the favour to go for a policeman," said Stanley to his 
 friend, " or watch the villain narrowly while I run myself." 
 
 " Don't, for God and Mighty's sake, bring the polis in ear ! 
 They cusses the 'spectability of hevery 'stablishment they henters. 
 I'll bundle 'im hout neck and crop, and then yer cun give 'im hin 
 charge. But hare yer a-goin' for to give the ticker hup ? Kara, 
 that' shall about it P" 
 
 " I tell you again that I have not got the watch," replied the 
 Colonel ; and he winked at the proprietor, conceiving that that 
 might have a favourable eifect. But in this he was mistaken ; for 
 although Sharp was quite as great a villain as himself, the subject of 
 
STANLEY THOBK. 83 
 
 his own reputation had been touched, and that induced him to be for 
 once in his life honest. 
 
 " Oh ho ! I twig !" said he, the moment the wink had been given. 
 < Butno, it von't fit ; no, nothink of the sort ; I von't 'ave it." 
 
 This the Colonel conceived to be extremely irregular, " Honour 
 among thieves" having been for years the recognised motto of both. 
 He, notwithstanding, drew him aside, and said something in a whisper, 
 as he pulled from his pocket a dirty piece of card, about an inch aud 
 a half square. 
 
 " Now, serpose," said Sharp, as he returned with this card in his 
 hand, " serpose this ear votch is guv hup, vill yer pledge yer verd 
 yer'll perceed no furder ?" 
 
 " I will," replied Stanley. 
 
 " Veil, then, serpose ag'in that it's pawned for ten pound, vood yer 
 hin sich a case, yer know, be satisfied with the dubblikit ?" 
 
 Stanley would have been, but his friend interposed. " By no 
 means," said he, " if that wretch has ten pounds in his pocket." 
 
 " 'Ave yer got ten pound ?" inquired Sharp. 
 ""I have not," replied the Colonel. 
 
 " He had more than twenty pounds' worth of counters." 
 
 " That's hall werry possible ; but for them, yer know, he guv in a 
 cheque." 
 
 " Well, give me the duplicate," said Stanley. " This is correct, of 
 course," 
 
 " Oh, that's all reg'lar," replied Sharp. You 'ave nothiok to do 
 but to show it." 
 
 " JX"ow," said Stanley, addressing the Colonel, " in future keep out 
 of my path. You will never again let me catch you within the reach 
 of my foot if you are wise." 
 
 " An' 'e may think hisself lucky," said the virtuous proprietor, as 
 Stanley and his friend left the room; "there ain't many ns vood 
 'ave let him off so heasy. At hall ewents, he don't darken my doors 
 ag'in. I 'ope as this ear von't perwent yer from honourin' me vith 
 another hurly wisit. Grood night to yer, gen'elmen I vish yer 
 good night." 
 
 They now left the house, and Stanley was about to express his 
 thanks warmly ; but his friend, whom he subsequently found to be a 
 member of the House of Commons, would not hear a word. " You 
 will find me in the Albany," said he, " I shall be happy to see you. 
 You must promise to call." 
 
 This promise was given, and they parted. It was then two o'clock. 
 Stanley therefore at once proceeded home, where Amelia was happy 
 in the conviction that he had been dining at Bichmond, and had 
 thereby effected a reconciliation. 
 
84 STANLEY T110KK. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 IN" WHICH STANLEY PERFORMS A GALLANT ACTION, AND THE 
 WIDOW IS SMITTEN AGAIN. 
 
 ALTHOUGH Amelia felt for the moment disappointed, on hearing 
 that Stanley had not been to .Richmond, she soon became reconciled 
 when he described the pleasure evinced by Mrs. Joliffe on their way 
 to Kew Bridge ; while the fact of his having recovered his watch 
 (which was really a miraculous fact, as he had explained it,) formed, 
 in her gentle judgment, a sufficient excuse for his return being so 
 long delayed. 
 
 Stanley was not, however, satisfied with himself. He appreciated, 
 perhaps more highly than ever, the amiable characteristics of Amelia, 
 and upbraided himself with neglect. He began to doubt the strength 
 of his own resolution ; and often, while reflecting, would he press 
 his lips together, and unconsciously frown, as he fixed upon a new 
 course of action, indicative of anything but an insensibility to the 
 value of self-esteem, the loss of which leaves a man nothing of value to 
 lose but his life, and of that he then soon becomes reckless. He 
 had frequently felt that he was not all a husband should be to a wife, 
 so affectionate and gentle as Amelia ; but on this particular occasion, 
 so determined was he to reform, that like a drunken individual, 
 who makes up his mind to stick to tee-total principles for a week or 
 a month, when the probability is that he will then break loose, and 
 become worse than ever he resolved to devote to her society exclu- 
 sively three entire days ! To this resolution he adhered ; and Amelia 
 was happy, and had recourse to every means at her command of 
 rendering that happiness mutual ; but before the day was at an end 
 he began to view it as an act of penance. Amelia was all he could 
 have wished her to be : her society was pleasing indeed, very 
 pleasing ; but the pleasure was too monotonous ; the thing became 
 irksome ; the hours passed slowly, and hung heavily as they passed ; 
 still he would, with manly firmness, adhere to his resolution! although 
 it would perhaps have been as well if he had not. 
 
 On being released from this self-imposed punishment for a 
 punishment he unhappily felt it to be he proceeded to the Albany, 
 to make his first call upon his friend, Sir William Wormwell, the 
 person by whom the soi-disant Colonel had been so mercilessly ex- 
 posed. He found him engaged in the pleasing occupation of perusing 
 a number of letters from certain of his constituents, who were most 
 sincerely anxious for him to procure for their sons and nephews 
 appointments in the Treasury, the Customs, the Colonies, or, in fact 
 not being by any means particular in any other place within the 
 scope of his influence, which letters he invariably answered to the 
 effect, that he was particularly sorry the application had not been 
 
STANLEY THORy. 85 
 
 made two days earlier ; but that he would, notwithstanding that 
 unfortunate circumstance, assuredly bear the thing in mind. 
 
 His recept : on of Stanley was of the most cordial character. He 
 appeared to be highly pleased to see him ; and, after a long and 
 mutually interesting conversation, Stanley prevailed upon him to 
 promise to have a quiet domestic dinner with him and Amelia at 
 six, when remounting his favourite horse, Marmion, he rode towards 
 the Park. 
 
 The day was fine, and, although it was yet early, there was rather 
 an unusual number of equipages in the ring. Of these equipages 
 there was one which especially attracted Stanley's attention. It 
 was an elegant phaeton drawn by a pair of extremely beautiful white 
 ponies, upon one of which was mounted a chubby little fellow, who 
 might have been seven years of age, although he was quite small 
 enough to have been taken for four. In this phaeton were two 
 rather brilliantly dressed persons, who appeared to be mother and 
 daughter, both of whom took particular notice of Stanley as he 
 passed them, which notice was repeated as often as they met. 
 
 This excited his curiosity. No arras appeared upon the panel, nor 
 was there any crest upon the harness ; while the only livery of the 
 boy was a jacket with three rows of round gilt buttons, a cap with 
 a gold tassel, top-boots, and an infinitesimally small pair of smalls. 
 He had therefore no means of ascertaining who they were, although 
 he felt anxious to do so. In fact his anxiety on the subject became 
 very intense ; for they met with unusual frequency, and each time 
 their notice became more marked. 
 
 "Well," thought Stanley, "this is singular. "Who can they 
 possibly be ? I never saw them before to my knowledge, although 
 I appear to be known to them. I wish they'd bow : I'd ride up and 
 speak to them at once." 
 
 Inspired with a very lively hope that they would give him thia 
 little opportunity of ascertaining who they were, he turned again ; 
 but scarcely had he done so, when a lady, whose horse had taken 
 fright, dashed past, crying aloud, " Oh, save me ! save me !" 
 
 In an instant Stanley put spurs to Marmion. " Courage, courage !" 
 he cried. " Be silent, and you are safe." 
 
 The lady was flien about twenty yards a-head ; but although the 
 horse she rode was a fine, swift, high-spirited creature, the beautiful 
 Marmion, being put upon his mettle, flew over the ground in such 
 gallant style, they were soon side by side. 
 
 " Hold firmly by the saddle," cried Stanley, " and drop the reins." 
 
 The lady did so, and he seized them in an instant, and tried to 
 check the horse, but in vain ; for as Marmion now made strong 
 efforts to shoot a-head, he found it difficult to control even him. All 
 he could do, therefore, was to keep them side by side in the middle 
 of the road, and thus they dashed on until they turned round by 
 Cumberland Gate. 
 
 At this point the lady's courage failed. "Oh!" she exclaimed, 
 " I'm off ! my head whirls ! I can hold on no longer ! I can hold 
 on no longer!" 
 
 " Trust to me, then," cried Stanley, who, just as she was on the 
 
86 STANLEY THOIiN. 
 
 point of fainting, caught her firmly by the Avaist, when, sending his 
 foot home in the near stirrup, and checking Marinion's speed, he 
 drew her off; but the pommel of the saddle caught her habit, and 
 held it. He tried to rend the robe but could not, the whole of his 
 strength being required to sustain his inanimate burthen, who was 
 then in a more perilous position than before. Bob, however, for- 
 tunately came up at the moment, and having unhooked the garment, 
 Stanley had the lady safely in his arms. 
 
 " Stop Marmion," cried Stanley, who had not then the power to 
 do it himself. 
 
 Bob spoke to him, and Marmion knowing the voice, at once 
 slackened his pace, when Stanley was able to pull him up with ease. 
 Bob then dismounted, and having received his master's burthen, who 
 was still quite insensible, and looked pale as death, bore her manfully 
 in his arms to the lodge, where every exertion was made with a view 
 to her recovery. 
 
 By this time the lady's servant had providentially reached the spot, 
 upon a mare that appeared to be about the same age as himself, 
 which could not have been much less than sixty, and immediately 
 afterwards a carriage drove up, containing two of the lady's relatives, 
 when Stanley, conceiving that he could render no farther assistance, 
 satisfied himself that the patient was recovering, remounted his 
 horse, and rode at once through the gate. 
 
 Bob, however, did not at all approve of his immediate departure 
 He held it to be altogether premature. Ifc was a proceeding to 
 which he gave no countenance, and which, indeed, he never would 
 have sanctioned, his private opinion being, that if his master had 
 remained until the lady had had time to look a little about her, 
 something like a present would have passed between her friends, in 
 the fulness of their gratitude, and himself. Nay, so deeply was he 
 impressed with this conviction, that, as his master remounted, he 
 intimated, as pointedly as possible, the expediency of being permitted 
 to take upon himself the entire responsibility of catching the lady's 
 horse, which would have answered his purpose perhaps equally 
 well ; but as even this privilege was denied him, notwithstanding, he 
 urged that it was six to four at least against the lady's groom catching 
 that horse in a fortnight, he thought it so particularly unhandsome 
 and unkind, that, as the natural sweetness of his disposition began 
 to change, he pronounced it to himself, confidentially, to be enough 
 to make a man's blood boil. 
 
 On reaching home, Stanley found his mother, whom Amelia had 
 prevailed upon to dine there that day, and who was therefore about 
 to dismiss her carriage. Her spirit was purturbed. She was fidgety 
 and absent, and indeed appeared to have been altogether put out. 
 She had passed Mr. Eipstone that morning; and Mr. Eipstone, by 
 bowiug with peculiar politeness, had awakened those beautiful 
 feelings which, cradled in her heart, had been sleeping so soundly 
 and so long. She would have stopped the carriage, she would have 
 sent the servant after Mr. Eipstone, she would have taken his hand 
 with the same cordiality as before ; but serious considerations, having 
 reference to the correctness of such a course, backed by au acute 
 
BTAHLEY THOB2T. 87 
 
 recollection of what had occurred, began to struggle with her inclina- 
 tion, and long before the contest was decided Mr. Ripstone was out 
 of sight. She felt it very strongly ; it interfered to some extent with 
 the usual regularity of her pulse, while her nerves appeared to be 
 nay, really were quite unsettled. Eut when she heard from 
 Stanley that she would ay, that very day dine with Sir "William 
 Wormwell, a Baronet, and a Member of Parliament to boot ! regret 
 was supplanted by hope, and her spirit became much more tranquil. 
 She deemed it then singularly fortunate that she had not spoken to 
 Mr. Eipstone ; and as she proceeded home to dress, for that was 
 held to be, under the circumstances, absolutely indispensable, she 
 thought that Lady "Wormwell was a remarkably euphonious name, 
 one which could not be objected to even by the most fastidious. 
 Lady Wormwell ! really it sounded very well, and would look very 
 well on a card. Lady Wormwell Mrs. Eipstone. No comparison 
 could be rationally instituted between them ; the difference was very 
 wide, and as to which name was entitled to the preference ! Well, 
 she reached home, and having dressed irresistibly, returned to 
 Stanley's house filled with high aspirations, and was soon introduced 
 to Sir William. Why, what a charming person ! Really his 
 manners were very elegant ! How excessively polite ! And what 
 beautiful eyes ! Then bis figure ! It \vas not quite so symmetrical 
 as that of her Stanley ; but then it was an altogether different style 
 of figure. And then bis voice ! It was a fine, manly, musical voice, 
 and he spoke so firmly, and with so much confidence, and yet, not 
 unpleasantly so ! by no means ! On the contrary, it was precisely 
 as a man ought to speak. She never could admire moustaches 
 before ! oh ! she could not endure even the sight of them ; but then 
 the moustaches of Sir William were such an improvement, that 
 she marvelled they were not more generally worn. His conversation, 
 too, was very entertaining ; while his style was extremely interesting 
 and eloquent. In a word, her delight was unqualified until dinner 
 was announced, \\hen she could not resist slightly envying Amelia, 
 he led her into the dining-room with such surpassing grace. And 
 yet this was not as if it had been a matter of choice ! Had it 
 been so, why, the case being different, might have engendered very 
 different feelings. Nor was it a matter of preference that he sat 
 where he did. She, singularly enough, thought of this tranquillising 
 circumstance, and the thought had a very good effect ; for, after all, 
 of what real importance was it ? He sat immediately opposite, 
 their eyes could, and did, meet constantly ; and although, in taking 
 wine with Amelia, he looked at her probably a little too long, when 
 he took wine with her his look was far more expressive indeed, so 
 much so, that she felt in some slight degree embarrassed at the 
 moment, which Sir William perceived, and hence addressed his 
 conversation during dinner, not exclusively it is true, but chiefly 
 to her ! There was then, of course, not the smallest doubt about the 
 matter in her mind, nor was there the smallest doubt about the 
 matter in the mind of Sir William, who continued to be as fasci- 
 nating as possible until the ladies retired. 
 
 And then, with what rapture did she applaud his companionable 
 
88 STANLEY THOHJJ-. 
 
 qualities ! He had made a very favourable impression upon Amelia, 
 she regarded him as an exceedingly gentlemanlike person ; but the 
 widow was in ecstacies ; and, while he and Stanley were over their 
 wine, she thought every minute an hour at least. 
 
 At length the re-union took place ; and Stanley in due time pro- 
 posed a quiet rubber, which seemed to impart pleasure to all ; and, 
 as the widow very pointedly intimated that she should like to have 
 the self-same party at her own house on an early day, the day was 
 fixed, and they passed the remainder of the evening, delighted alike 
 with each other and themselves. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 TREATS OF THE PAEK, AND OF STANLEY'S MYSTEBIOFS INTERVIEW 
 WITH MADAME POTJPETIER. 
 
 BUT one thing was now required to render the happiness of Amelia 
 complete, and that was the formal forgiveness of her father. Poor 
 Mrs. Joliffe laboured hard to effect this ; but the Captain was not to 
 be moved. He was sorry for Amelia : he was not he could not 
 be angry with her : his anger was directed against Stanley alone ; 
 for, as far as her prospects of happiness were concerned, he would 
 have been more content had she married a tradesman. He looked 
 upon Stanley as a youth without any fixed principles, one who had 
 been thrown upon the world without any sufficient check upon his 
 passions, but with the means at his command of giving full swing to 
 them all ; who had to form casual friendships, which are at all times 
 most dangerous ; who had nothing on earth to seek but pleasure ; 
 and who, while fascinated by every novelty, had the power to indulge 
 in every vice. He therefore felt that domestic happiness would be 
 entirely out of the question ; that, as love cannot live upon itself alone 
 long, new scenes and temptations would wean him from home, if even 
 they failed to drag him into the gulf of dishonour. The only thought 
 which in the slightest degree shook his resolution to avoid a formal 
 reconciliation was this, that he might perhaps, be able to guide 
 Stanley ; to advise him what to embrace, and what to shun. But, 
 when he reflected upon Stanley's headstrong disposition : when he 
 considered that any opposition on his part might have the effect of 
 stimulating, rather than that of checking him, he soon became con- 
 vinced that the only wise course he could pursue was that of holding 
 out until the time of danger had passed, conceiving that the additional 
 claim which Amelia in consequence of having sacrificed all else 
 for him then had upon his tenderness, would, in the event of a 
 reconciliation, no longer exist, while the vanity of Stanley might 
 prompt him to act so as to enable him anon to exclaim with exulta- 
 tion. " Now what have you to say against me or my conduct ? 
 What becomes now of your baseless fears, your unworthy suspicions 
 
STANLEY THORtf. 89 
 
 and guesses !" This consideration had great weight with the 
 Captain ; and, as nothing arose to outweigh it, he adhered to his 
 resolution firmly, notwithstanding the pathetic appeals of Mrs. 
 Joliffe, who advanced with great point that what was done could 
 not be undone, with a variety of other arguments equally novt- 1 and 
 strong. 
 
 Amelia, of course, had no knowledge of the Captain's real motive. 
 She attributed the fact of his continuing to withhold the expression 
 of his forgiveness to anger alone, yet hoped that reflection would 
 cause him to relent. She would have gone at once, and thrown 
 herself imploringly at his feet : but she could not, without having 
 Stanley's consent, which she perfectly well knew she could never 
 obtain. This necessarily made her feel sad ; and, as she appeared 
 to be unusually depressed the day after that on which Sir William 
 dined with them, seeing that the few pleasant hours they had passed 
 recalled to her recollection the very many happy evenings that were 
 associated with the home of her childhood, Stanley felt pleased when 
 the widow, who was in the highest possible spirits, called, according 
 to promise, to take Amelia for a drive. 
 
 As soon as they had departed he ordered his horse, and proceeded 
 at once to the Park. It was Sunday ; and being, moreover, an ex- 
 cessively hot day, the appearance of the King was most animated and 
 imposing. 
 
 Perhaps there is no scene in Europe that can be held to be com- 
 parable with that which the Eing in the Park presents on a fine 
 sultry Sunday. In the drive there are vehicles of every description, 
 from the aristocratic curricle to the " vun oss shay." The countess, 
 luxuriantly lounging in an almost horizontal position in her britska, 
 is followed by the butcher in his " ginteel draw " who, (while his 
 " missus, the vife of his buzzum," is injuring her spine by leaning 
 over the back of her buggy, with the laudable view of doing the 
 thing with all the luxuriant grace of the countess) is constantly 
 looking with an expression of agony at the unexampled tightness of 
 the bellyband, and continually making " a hobservation " to the 
 effect that " she mil set a leetle matter forrard, if she doesn't petickler 
 vont to be spilt." Then comes the rouged roue, with the rein 
 hooked elegantly upon his jewelled finger, and with an eye-glass 
 stuck with surpassing dexterity between his finely pencilled brow 
 and his blooming cheek-bone, staring on the one hand into every 
 carriage, and smiling at every milliner that passes on the other with 
 a kind of fascination which he conceives to be irresistible. The 
 dowager follows with her three devoted daughters, whom she has 
 put up at auction to the highest bidder, and who are engaged, as a 
 mere matter of duty, in making eyes of the most provoking caste 
 at those gudgeons whom their ma is most anxious for them to hook. 
 Then comes an acknowledged leader of ton. Every eye is upon him. 
 Whatever he may wear of an extraordinary character, whether of 
 shape, make or colour, is held to be the mode, which is a source of 
 hebdomadal mortification, inasmuch as when his aspiring civio 
 imitators fancy that they have matched him to a hair, they find oil 
 the following Sun day that he is dressed in a style most astonishingly 
 12 
 
90 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 different. After him comes an old-fashioned phaeton, drawn by an 
 old-fashioned horse, driven by an old-fashioned gentleman, with an 
 old-fashioned lady behind him, guarded by an old-fashioned groom. 
 The lady and gentleman when abroad never speak to each other by 
 any chance. Neither has to communicate anything of which the 
 other knows nothing : they knew each other's sentiments so well 
 that they are mutually impressed with the conviction that they need 
 not trouble themselves to explain them. For a period of fifty years, 
 probably, they have been man and wife, and their feelings, their 
 prejudices, their hearts so mingle, that the death of one come when 
 it may, will be death to the other. Then follows the invalid, taking 
 the air in a chariot, with all the windows up ; thus inhaling the 
 fetid atmosphere he has a thousand times exhaled, with a view to 
 the expansion and more healthy action of his tubercled lungs. A 
 barrister follows, riding in state to extend his practice, and cal- 
 culating with correctness, too, seeing that he must be an extremely 
 eminent person to be enabled to live in such style, upon his airings 
 not only keeping his carriage, but putting into hispocket an additional 
 thousand a-year. And thus they go round and round, to see, and to 
 be seen ; flanked by equestrians from the duke to the draper, while 
 the promenade is thronged with pedestrians of every grade ; of 
 whom the majority, however, are milliners and tailors, raising dense 
 clouds of dust behind a row of individuals at the rails, who are 
 engaged in usurping the functions of the Crown by conferring high 
 honours upon persons unknown, and pitchforking people up to the 
 peerage by wholesale. The heart of him who thus establishes himself 
 as a fountain of honour must teem with a peculiar sort of secret 
 satisfaction. It is highly irrational to suppose that, were it not so, 
 -he would take so deep an interest in the thing ; for he is never by 
 any chance at a loss for a title. A black- whiskered boot-maker 
 appears : of course he is an illustrious duke. His grace is followed 
 by a bagman : he is some celebrated marquis. A blackleg, who, in 
 his early youth practised as a pickpocket, follows him : he is some 
 distinguished baronet, whose family originally came over with 
 "William the Norman in the reign of Queen Anne, when Hichard the 
 Third started over the Alps after Julius Ca3sar. And this is pleasing 
 to all concerned : it pleases him who imparts the information as 
 him who receives it, while it meets the views of those upon whom 
 the titles are conferred, and whose aim is to be taken for persons of 
 distinction. 
 
 Stanley had not been long in the Park when he met the identical 
 pony-phaeton, which he had noticed so much the day before. The 
 same ladies were in it, and the same lightning glances were ex- 
 changed. What could they mean ? They might be friends of the 
 lady whom he had rescued ! and yet, had they not glanced thus 
 pointedly at him before that event took place ? They met again 
 and again ; but, at length, having made a sign to Bob, they 
 gave him a card to deliver to his master, and drove at once out of 
 the Park. 
 
 Bob rode forward ; but as Stanley was then at the door of his 
 mother's carriage, and continued to ride by the side of it until they 
 
STANLEY THOEN. N 91 
 
 reached home, he very prudently deferred the delivery of the card 
 until then, when he explained, of course, how, and from whom he had 
 received it. 
 
 " Madame Poupetier !" said Stanley, as he looked at this card, 
 " Madame Poupetier !" It was a name of which he had never before 
 heard. What could be the meaning of it? What could be the 
 object of Madame Poupetier? He was engaged in conjecturing 
 during the remainder of the day, and conceived ten thousand ideas 
 on the subject. The thing was so unusual so mysterious ! As a 
 matter of courtesy, he must call upon Madame Poupetier ; and as a 
 matter of courtesy, well seasoned with curiosity, he did call the fol- 
 lowing morning. 
 
 Madame Poupetier was at home ; 'and, from the manner of the 
 servant, it was clear that she expected him, for he was shown at 
 once into a room which was ornamented with singular elegance and 
 taste, and which he could not help admiring while the servant went 
 up with his card. 
 
 In due time the lady appeared ; and, having taken Stanley by the 
 hand, she gave him at once a most fascinating smile, and they sat on 
 the sofa together. It was plain that she had been a most splendid 
 woman ; for, although she was at that period passee, traces of beauty 
 still remained of a character unusually striking. 
 
 " I feel honoured by this visit," she observed, with a slight foreign 
 accent, " but indeed you must forgive me for having had recourse to 
 the means by which it was procured." 
 
 Stanley bowed, without replying ; for the fact is, he did not ex- 
 actly understand it even then ; besides, he felt at the time in some 
 slight degree confused, which Madame Poupetier in an instant per- 
 ceived, and therefore drew somewhat nearer, and took his hand 
 again, and having pressed it, continued to hold it in hers. 
 
 " This is rather warm !" thought Stanley, as she looked into hia 
 eyes as if she then felt quite happy. " I suppose I shall presently 
 know what it means." 
 
 Madame Poupetier at this moment of interest drew nearer still, 
 and then resumed, " The fact of my having sent my card to a gentle- 
 man to whom I never had the pleasure of being introduced, must, I 
 am aware, appear strange ; but when I explain that I was impelled to 
 that course by a lady who is dying to impart to you something of 
 importance, I feel sure that you will pardon me." 
 
 " I beg," said Stanley, " that you will not name it. I am happy, 
 without reference to the means, in having become acquainted with 
 Madame Poupetier." 
 
 Madame bowed and smiled, and pressed his hand again, and drew 
 so closely to him then, that she absolutely fixed him in a corner. 
 
 "Have I the pleasure to know the lady of whom you speak? 11 
 inquired Stanley. 
 
 " I believe not," said Madame Poupetier. 
 
 " Have I never seen her ?" 
 
 " It is the lady who was with me in my phaeton yesterday." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! and the day before ?" 
 
 " Yes ; she is a dear, good, affectionate girl ; and I love her BO 
 
92 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 much, that I consented to resort to the only means available of 
 letting you know that she had something to communicate." 
 
 " Indeed you are very polite. I shall be happy to receive any 
 communication from that lady. But pardon my curiosity do you 
 know at all the nature of that communication ?" 
 
 " "Why," said Madame Poupetier, who smiled, and shook her head 
 playfully, " I do know : but Isabella would scold me if I were to 
 explain." 
 
 " Then I will not by any means urge you. When shall I have the 
 pleasure of being introduced ?" 
 
 " Isabelle is very anxious for it to be as soon as possible ; but 
 matters of this description are managed with more pleasure to both 
 parties without the formality of a set conversation. I have there- 
 fore undertaken to solicit the favour of your company to-morrow 
 evening, when, as I am going to have a little party, all can be ex- 
 plained without any reserve. "Will you do me the favour to join us ?" 
 
 "With pleasure," replied Stanley. 
 
 " There's a good creature ! Poor little Isabelle ! she will be so 
 happy ! You will not be late ? Say ten o'clock do not be later 
 than ten." 
 
 " I will not," replied Stanley, who rose to take leave. 
 
 " Then you forgive me ?" said Madame Poupetier, as she smiled 
 and rang the bell. " You are sure, quite sure that you forgive me ?" 
 
 " I am delighted," returned Stanley, " as well with this intro- 
 duction to Madame Poupetier, as with her polite invitation." 
 
 "It will be a sort of fancy dress party," she observed ; "but you 
 need not come in any fancy costume. If, however, you wish to appear 
 like the rest, I have one with which I am sure you will be pleased, 
 although I think you cannot possibly assume a more attractive 
 character than your own." 
 
 Stanley appreciated this flattering observation, and having acknow 
 ledged the receipt of the compliment inclosed, he gracefully took 
 leave of Madame Poupetier, stepped into his cab, and drove off. 
 
 It was perhaps but natural that he should have deemed all this 
 strange. The interview, instead of satisfying his curiosity, had had 
 the effect of exciting it still more. What could be the nature of this 
 important communication ? What could it mean ? Surely no lady 
 had become desperately enamoured of him ? It was very mysterious ! 
 The warm manner of Madame Poupetier, her mode of pressing his 
 hand, and sticking so closely to him on the sofa, with other little 
 familiarities, with which he could not feel displeased, he attributed 
 to the fact of her being a French woman, in whom they were under- 
 stood to be common civilities. This he could or, at all events, 
 fancied he could well understand, but nothing more j all the rest 
 was a mystery, which had still to be solved. 
 
STANLEY THOEff. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 EXPLAINS THE CHARACTERISTICS OP A PECULIAR FANCY DRESS 
 BALL, AT WHICH STANLEY EECEIVES A HIGHLY INTERESTING 
 COMMUNICATION. 
 
 AT the appointed hour the following evening, Stanley having ex- 
 plained to Amelia that, as he was going to sup with a few friends, he 
 should not perhaps return quite so early as usual repaired to the 
 residence of Madame Poupetier, who received him with characteristic 
 grace, and expressed her self highly delighted. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Mignon," said Madame Poupetier, after the first 
 cordial greeting, " has not yet arrived ; but I expect her every 
 instant. You cannot conceive how enraptured she was when I told 
 her that you would be here." 
 
 Stanley now, of course, perceived that Mademoiselle Mignon was 
 the little Isabelle, and having observed that he should be equally de- 
 lighted to see her, be was sent with an attendant to put on the dress 
 she had prepared, and was then led by Madame Poupetier into a 
 brilliantly illuminated ball-room, in which there were from thirty to 
 forty persons assembled, of whom the majority were females, dressed 
 in various styles, with so much elegance and taste, that each style 
 appeared to be absolutely the most attractive. He had never before 
 Been so much beauty. It appeared to be impossible for the passion 
 of envy to be excited there ; for although some were habited as nuns, 
 some as sylphs, and some as peasants, while others were in Pers : an, 
 Greek, and Turkish costumes, they vied with each other in personal 
 charms so successfully, that it would have been indeed extremely 
 difficult to point out the loveliest in the room. 
 
 As Stanley entered, eight very young and graceful creatures, who 
 appeared to have been under the tuition of some accomplished maitre 
 de lallet, were engaged in a picturesque dance, of which several gaily 
 attired elderly gentlemen appeared to be lost in admiration. At the 
 upper end of the room a quadrille band was stationed, and by the 
 side of the temporary orchestra a group of old ladies, with remark- 
 ably round, red, anti-aristocratical faces, stood discussing with sur- 
 passing volubility divers matters, in which they seemed to take the 
 deepest possible interest. But for this particular group, which was 
 not fairy-like in the slightest degree, the whole scene would have 
 appeared to be one of enchantment. This reduced it at once in 
 Stanley's view to reality ; and, as an elegant brunette at the moment 
 took his arm pro tern,, he began to notice the chief characteristics of 
 the scene, a variety of which struck him as being most strange ; but 
 that which he held to be more extraordinary than all was the dearth, 
 nay, the almost total absence of young men. The ladies danced 
 with each other, promenaded with each other, and chatted with 
 each other exclusively, which Stanley conceived to be not quite 
 
94 STANLEY THOEF. 
 
 correct ; although it might have been reasonably inferred from their 
 vivacity that nothing was really wanted to render their happiness 
 complete. 
 
 He had scarcely, however, brought his mind to bear upon the 
 cause of this singular circumstance, when Madame Poupetier re- 
 et.tered the room with an exceedingly delicate beautiful blonde, 
 whom she introduced to Stanley as plain Isabelle. He had never 
 before beheld a creature so fair. Her skin was as clear and fine as 
 that of an infant, rendering more sparkling her brilliant blue eyes, 
 which, notwithstanding the whiteness of her lashes and brows, were 
 peculiarly expressive ; while her flaxen hair, soft and fine as silk, 
 hung in ringlets upon a bosom comparable only to animated wax. 
 
 There could be no longer any doubt which was the loveliest girl in 
 the room ; for although she was dressed in the moat simple style, she, 
 at least in Stan'ey's view, eclipsed them all ; while, on recovering her 
 self-possession, for she appeared somewhat tremulous when Stanley 
 took her hand she spoke in tones of surpassing sweetness. 
 
 There is probably nothing more really engaging than the simple 
 conversation of one who his acquired a sufficient knowledge of our 
 language to make herself just understood. Like the innocent 
 prattle of an infant, it fixes our attention, while we are interested 
 and amused, and almost imperceptibly inspires us with feelings 
 which, are nearly allied to those of love. 
 
 Isabelle was born and educated at France. She had been at the 
 period of her introduction to Stanley but twelve months in England, 
 and knew just enough of the English, language to make those with 
 whom she conversed comprehend what she meant. Stanley was 
 therefore charmed with her conversation, and gazed upon her as she 
 spoke as he would have gazed upon a child. Indeed, he regarded 
 her but as a child, assumed a patronising tone, smiled at everything 
 she said, however seriously intended, and kept her hand playfully in his. 
 
 " You will dance with me, Isabelle ?" said he. 
 
 " Oh ! I vill be mos delight !" 
 
 " You, are extremely fond of dancing, I presume ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes! I vos lot' it indeed veery great." 
 
 "Well, then, we'll dance the next set." 
 
 And they did so ; and nothing could surpass the elegant ease of 
 Isabelle, who glided through the figures like a fairy. Stanley now 
 became more delighted with her than ever, and went through the 
 following set, and then joined in a waltz, which he kept up with 
 spirit, until his knees began to tremble, and he had lost the point 
 of sight, when with great consideration he drew her arm in his, and 
 inquired if she did not begin to feel fatigued. 
 
 " Fatigue !" she exclaimed, with surprise. " Oh non : I vill not 
 feel fatigue till the day before to-morrow." 
 
 Stanley believed what she meant to convey ; but as he felt fatigued 
 himself, he confessed it, and led her to a seat, when she gaily explained 
 to him that she had on one occasion danced " tree days efieery day, 
 vid no daylight, no fatigue, no sleep," and he warmly applauded her 
 spirit. 
 
 "And now, Isabelle," said he, taking advantage of a pause, 
 
TANLBY THOBS. 95 
 
 " what is this highly important secret you are so anxious to com- 
 municate ?" 
 
 " Oh," said Isabelle, blushing deeply, and pretending to adjust 
 Stanley's dress, " I cannot possible tell to you now ; I am beesy." 
 
 " But, my dear girl, you may as well tell me at once." 
 
 " My dear girl !" echoed Isabelle, with an expression of pleasure. 
 
 " Upon my word, I beg pardon," said Stanley ; " but really lam 
 so accustomed " 
 
 " Accustom !" interrupted Tsabelle, as she turned her blue eyes full 
 upon him " accustom ! Oh, yes !" she continued, as her features 
 relaxed, " you have leetle sistare dear girl I comprehend." 
 
 " Well, then," said Stanley, " now, keep me no longer in suspense. 
 What is it ?" 
 
 " Noting a tall beefore souper ! Indeed it vos not quite possible to 
 tell to you beefore." 
 
 Madame Poupetier now approached, and, after making a variety 
 of observations touching matters in general, but more particularly 
 with reference to the perfect understanding which appeared to exist 
 between Stanley and Isabelle, she expressed a highly laudable hope 
 that they were happy, and left them again to themselves." 
 
 " Have you known Madame Pouj etier long?" inquired Stanley. 
 
 " No ; not long. I vos not been in Engeland long." 
 
 " Your friends knew her, probably, before you arrived !" 
 
 " Oh no," said Isabelle, with an aspect of sadness. " My friends 
 nevare vos know Madame Poupetier." And as she spoke the tears 
 sprang into her eyes, which she tried, but in vain, to conceal. 
 
 Stanley changed the subject in a moment ; but before Isabelle 
 could reassume her wonted gaiety, supper was announced, to the 
 entire satisfaction not only of the elderly gentlemen, but of the 
 red-faced ladies, who hailed the announcement with manifest delight. 
 They therefore at once slipped away, taking with them all who were 
 not then engaged in the dance, save Stanley and Isabelle, who found 
 pleasure in lingering until the conclusion of the quadrille, when 
 they followed of course with the rest. 
 
 On entering the supper-room, Stanley found everything arranger! 
 in the most recherche style, and for the first time perceived that, 
 while engaged with Isabelle, the number of gentlemen had greatly 
 increased. 
 
 " Is that Monsieur Poupetier ?" he inquired, alluding to a fine 
 portly person who sat at the top of one of the tables. 
 
 Isabelle looked and smiled, and then replied, 
 
 "Non. Dere nevare vos be Monseur Poupetier. Madame 
 Poupetier vos nevare be marry." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Stanley, " I was not aware of that." 
 
 Isabelle looked and smiled again. 
 
 The champagne soon began to go round very briskly, and the 
 guests felt in consequence much less restrained. They conversed with 
 more spirit, and laughed with more freedom, and, indeed, there were 
 several present who displayed no inconsiderable share of true wit. 
 These, however, did not create the most laughter. The greatest 
 amount of meniment was produced by two aged individuals, whe 
 
96 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 had not a tooth between them, but who, nevertheless, exhibited the 
 chief characteristics of buffoons to such perfection that Mirth burst 
 the barrier of Pity to roar. Not, however, content with this pleasing 
 result of the spirited display of his genius, one of them actually 
 kissed two nuns who sat beside him : and Stanley conceived, as they 
 offered no resistance, but, on the contrary, felt rather nattered than 
 not, that he was the father of those nuns, or their uncle, or their 
 guardian at least, until Poupetier, who saw the outrage committed, 
 exclaimed, with appropriate solemnity, " My Lord !" 
 
 The expression of the noble individual's queer countenance on 
 being thus called to order, become so excessively droll that it induced 
 a simultaneous burst of laughter, which, being both loud and long- 
 continued, threw his lordshij) into a perfect state of rapture, the 
 powerful developement of which he managed by rolling remarkably 
 in their sockets his two odd eyes, with which, in point of legitimate 
 obliquity, nothing at all comparable in the annals of eyes either 
 ancient or modern exists upon record. The only person who did not 
 laugh at this highly -interesting exhibition was the noble lord's rival. 
 To him the effect was wormwood. He became extremely jealous. 
 He held it to be a monstrous monopoly, and tried to break it down ; 
 but although he laboured hard to eclipse the noble lord, he eventually 
 felt himself utterly extinguished. 
 
 It may be here remarked that champagne is a wine of which females 
 in general are fond ; it were useless, perhaps, to dive to any depth 
 into the cause ; but that they do love it dearly 13 a fact which ex- 
 perience has placed beyond the pale of dispute. Such being the 
 case, then, it may, without any impropriety, be mentioned, that at 
 this particular period of the evening that light and lively wine began 
 to work its legitimate effects upon the elderly round-faced ladies by 
 whom the festive board was adorned, and who entered at large into 
 the general economy of the establishments over which they had 
 respectively the honour to preside. This appeared to be deeply 
 interesting to them, but not to Stanley ; but still his eyes might even, 
 then have been opened had not Madame Poupetier with great adroit- 
 ness suggested that the young ladies were then at liberty to return 
 to the ball-room, when, as this correct suggestion was acted upon 
 generally, Stanley and Isabelle joined them at once. 
 
 "Now, Isabelle," said Stanley, having led her to a seat, "what 
 is this grand secret ?" 
 
 Isabelle gazed at him intently for a moment, and then said, " JSst- 
 ce encore un secret?" 
 
 " Oui vraiment," replied Stanley ; " maisparlez Anglais. II m'est 
 difficile il m'est difficile de vous faire comprendre en Francais ; 
 en meme temps j'admire beaucoup plus beacoup plus j 'admire 
 beaucoup plus votre Anglais que votre Francais." 
 
 " Vich vos be de same to me myself, but different. Still I sail 
 try to pleasure you." 
 
 " Well, then," said Stanley. Now what is it ?" 
 
 " Vy," said Isabelle, as she played with Stanley's chain, and 
 arranged it in various devices upon his vest, " it is 1 it ia vetry 
 terrible to me to tell you. I cannot possible." 
 
STANLEY THOHtf. 97 
 
 "Why, you silly girl ?" 
 
 "Yell, you sail you sail deviner vot you call? -guess yes 
 yes you sail guess." 
 
 " Impossible ! I cannot." 
 
 " Cannot guess ? Vot vill I do ? You vill not be angry ? Please 
 do not be angry ?" 
 
 "Angry, my dear girl ! Why should I be angry ? I cannot be 
 angry with you !" 
 
 Isabelle raise her eyes, which then sparkled with pleasure ; but 
 dropped them again as she said " Oh, it's veery shocking for me ! 
 but it vill as veil bee done at last as at fost !" when taking a deep 
 inspiration, she added, " I lof you !" and buried her face in his 
 bosom. 
 
 " And this is the secret," thought Stanley. " Well ! I suspected 
 as much. Now how am I to act ? I must not be serious with this 
 poor girl. I must pass it off with levity, treat it as a jest. 
 Isabelle," said he playfully, " let me see your eyes." 
 
 Conceiving that his object was to test her sincerity, she looked 
 at him firmly in an instant. 
 
 " And so you really love me ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed ! I have veery dear great lof for you in my 
 heart." 
 
 "tJpon my honour I feel highly flattered." 
 
 " Oh, no : tere is no flatterie in verite. Indeed I vos not a tali 
 flatter." 
 
 " And, pray how long have I had the honour of your love ?" 
 
 "Evare, from ven I did know you to see." 
 
 "Indeed! Well, that is strange. But Isabelle, what is the 
 character of your love !" 
 
 " Te character ? I cannot tell. I nevar'e deed lof like this lof 
 beefore. Oh ! it is happiness yet it is not it gives to me pleasure) 
 and yet it does not : it is te supreme it is oh ! it is lof!" 
 
 " Now, suppose, Isabelle, that I were married." 
 
 " Marry ! oh, no, no, no ! you are not marry." 
 
 " But, if I were !" 
 
 " Vy, if you vere marry, it vill be veery terrible to me." 
 
 " Of course in such a case you would love me no more ?" 
 
 "No more! Till evare and evare! I vill not help it. But no, 
 no, you are not marry a tall. I p rceive by you emile you are not, 
 vich is veery great felicity to me." 
 
 "Well, come," said Stanley, attempting to rise, " shall we dance 
 the next set?" 1 
 
 " Yes yes," said Isabelle ; " but you have quite forget to tell to 
 me something." 
 ." Indeed ! What have I forgotten ?" 
 
 " You have quite entirely forget to say you lof me." 
 
 " Well, that is indeed very wrong, is it not ?" 
 
 " But," said Isabelle, after a pauee, " you have rievare tell to me 
 still ! You do not lof me." 
 
 " Love you ? How can I resist ? I can't but love so sweet a girl." 
 
 " But do you lof me vid de veritable lot' vich is lof vich is true 
 13 
 
98 STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 All ! vy you hesitate ? vy you not answer to me ? You are marry ! 
 Oh ! tell to me if it is so ! but do not oh, do not be cruel to say it 
 is if it is not. Are you marry ?" 
 
 "I will not deceive you," said Stanley, " I am." 
 
 Isabelle dropped her head, and was silent. The tears flowed 
 fast though unheeded by her, and she looked as if the answer of 
 Stanley had been death to every hope she had cherished. 
 
 " Come, come," said he, " why are you so sad ? Because I hap- 
 pen to be married ? Why, I hope to see you married soon." 
 
 " Oh nevare ! you vill nevare see Isabelle marry : you vill nevare 
 see Isabelle more !" 
 
 -*' Hark ! what is that ?" exclaimed Stanley, as at the moment he 
 heard a loud scream, followed by cries which had a thrilling effect. 
 " Eemain here, my girl. Do not be alarmed. I will return to you 
 immediately." 
 
 leabelle pressed his hand, and he darted from the room. 
 
 Following the sound of the voices, which now became more and 
 more loud, he soon entered the room in which supper had been laid, 
 and which at that time presented a scene of a character the most 
 lively and imposing. The tables were turned upside down ; the chairs 
 were broken ; the pier-glass was starred ; and the carpet was strewn 
 with the fragments of bottles, and saturated with wine ; and while 
 those of the guests by whom the sport was enjoyed were pulling 
 others back, and shouting " Let them alone!" the noble individual 
 who had produced so much mirth, and his rival, whom at supper he 
 had totally eclipsed, were mounted upon a sideboard, engaged amoDg 
 the glasses in the performance of a musical pas de deux. 
 
 Stanley at fir^t could not get even a glance at the principal 
 characters engaged in the scene ; but having, by dint of great per- 
 severance, broken through a kind of ring, he perceived two red-faced 
 ladies devoting all their physical energies, with the view of getting 
 as much satisfaction out of each other as possible, to the manifest 
 delight of those by whom they were respectively backed. One of 
 those ladies struck out like a man quite straight from the shoulder 
 and fairly ; but the other, though incomparably less scientific, did 
 with her talons the greatest amount of execution. They were both 
 in a state in which ladies ought never to wish to be, whether they do 
 or do not love their lords ; and being so, the highest object of each 
 was to damage the countenance of the other as much as she com- 
 fortably could. 
 
 " Pray pray, put an end to it, pray !" exclaimed Madame 
 Poupetier, with an expression of agony. " Oh, the reputation of my 
 house ! the reputation of my house !" 
 
 Stanley, on being thus appealed to, at once interfered, but in vain. 
 
 " I'll teach her to run down my girl," shrieked the more scientific 
 of the two, who at the moment aimed a left handed blow at her 
 opponent, whose cap, though adorned with pinks, lilies, and roses, 
 and long ears of corn, was so frightened that it flew off her head. 
 " I'll show her the difference ! I keep them like ladies, that's more 
 than some people do," and she aimed another blow, which had so 
 powerful an effect upon the face of her opponent, that that lady 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 99 
 
 considered it expedient to close ; when, apparently with malice afore- 
 thought, she plucked off in an instant her more scientific antagonist's 
 coiffure, consisting not only of a violet velvet turban, with three 
 birds of paradise stuck up in front, but of an elegant richly-curled, 
 highly -wrought peruke ! Oh ! to the delicate and strictly private 
 feelings of that lady this was terrible indeed, and it may not be 
 altogether incorrect to mention, that with her white bald head, and 
 her round red face, thus completely unadorned, she did not look 
 so comfortable quite as she did before. Still, although she felt it 
 deeply, while the other shrieked with laudable exultation, she flew 
 at her boldly again, and caught hold of her hair, expecting evidently 
 a similar result, which would have made her comparatively happy ; 
 but, albeit she tugged and tugged with becoming perseverance, she 
 found it so excessively natural that she really began to deem herself 
 conquered, inasmuch as she felt that she could not inflict upon the 
 feelings of her opponent so deep a wound as that which her opponent 
 had inflicted upon hers : so natural a fact is it that, while she cared 
 but little about an exposure of her moral deformities, she could not 
 bear the exposure of those physical defects, over which she had no 
 control whatever; and hence, notwithstanding the enthusiastic 
 promptings of her satellites, who really gave her every encourage- 
 ment to " go in and win," she snatched from the ground her degraded 
 coiffure, and rushed from the room, amid loud roars of laughter. 
 
 Stanley now began to feel convinced that some of the persons 
 there assembled were not of the most respectable caste ; but, with- 
 out at all dwelling upon the importance which ought to have been 
 attached to this conviction, he returned to the ball-room, with the 
 view of rejoining Isabelle. He reached the couch on which he had 
 left her : she had vanished. He inquired of those around ; they 
 knew nothing of her departure. He requested the servants to search 
 the house, and they did search ; they searched every room : she was 
 not to be found. He remembered the last words she had uttered, 
 and became apprehensive of her having madly rushed to self- 
 destruction. He wished that he had not been so candid, yet felt 
 that he could not be blamed. He inquired of Madame Poupetier ; 
 he inquired of all whom he met ; he could not obtain the slightest 
 information. He felt that during the disgraceful confusion she must 
 have escaped unperceived, and, being firmly convinced that she was 
 lost, he changed his dress, and left the house, with her last words 
 ringing in his ears, " You will never see Isabelle married ; you will 
 never see Isabelle more I" 
 
100 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 STANLEY DBEAMS OF ISABELLE, WITH WHOSE NAME AMELIA 
 THEEEBY BECOMES ACQUAINTED. 
 
 STANLEY had no sooner left the house than it struck him that he was 
 bound by every charitable feeling to proceed without delay to the 
 residence of Isabelle. And yet, where did she reside ? How could 
 he ascertain ? He might perhaps from Madame Poupetier ; but 
 how extremely incorrect it would appear if he applied to her then. 
 And if even he did apply, and the application was successful, he could 
 not, with any appearance of propriety, call at that hour upon 
 Isabelle ; and if he did call, and found that she had reached home in 
 safety, he of course would be unable to see her to dissuade her from 
 any desperate act she might contemplate. And if again he found 
 tjjhat she had not returned, what could he do then ? Puzzled by the 
 Yarious promptings of prudence on the one hand, and inclination on 
 the other, he walked to and fro in a state of irresolution, until a cab 
 drew towards him, when he entered it mechanically, and at once 
 proceeded home. 
 
 Amelia, who would never retire until he returned, had for hours 
 been waiting most anxiously for him. She had been in tears. She. 
 had endeavoured to believe that it was wrong to be sad, and that 
 her grief had its origin in selfishness ; still she could not help griev- 
 ing ; the tears would continue to flow. The very moment, however, 
 he returned, she hastened to remove everything indicative of sadness, 
 and looked cheerful and happy, and smiled with her wonted sweet-, 
 ness. Nor was this hypocrisy. If even it had been, it might perhaps 
 have been held to have been venial; but it was not. She did feel, 
 happy on his return ; her smile of gladness was sincere ; and when 
 she flew at once to meet and to embrace him, she but obeyed the 
 impulse of her heart. 
 
 " Have you passed a pleasant evening, my love ?" she inquired. 
 
 "Yes yes," replied Stanley; "very pleasant considering that 
 my Amelia was not with me." 
 
 " You wish me to believe that you do not flatter ?" said Amelia, 
 with a playful expression. " AVell, well, I do believe it. Oh yes ; 
 if I did not, I should doubt your sincerity. But why are you not 
 cheerful ? I am with you now.'* 
 
 " I only feel fatigued," replied Stanley, passing his hand languidly 
 over his eyes. 
 
 " You must be, I am sure. You shall haye some refreshment, and 
 then for a long sweet sleep." 
 
 Stanley looked at Amelia, and drew a comparison between her 
 appearance and that of Isabelle, of which the result was unhappily in 
 favour of the latter. Isabelle was more strikingly beautiful than 
 
STANLEY THORN. 101 
 
 Amelia. It would indeed have been impossible for her to have been 
 more gentle, more elegant, or more amiable ; but her features were 
 more regular, she possessed more beauty, which has in all cases an 
 undue influence when the comparison's merely superficial. This 
 result, however, failed to make a deep impression then. The endear- 
 ing fondness of Amelia, which was ever most conspicuous when his 
 spirits were most depressed, caused him to feel that he in reality pos- 
 sessed a jewel which could not be too highly valued. He became 
 therefore speedily reconciled; and, after reproaching himself for 
 having entertained for an instant a wish that he had not been 
 married, he returned those endearments which had been lavished 
 upon him by Amelia, and thus rendered her perfectly happy. 
 
 On retiring to rest, the effect of the excitement of the scene he had 
 just quitted was that of inducing immediate sleep ; but the circum-. 
 stances connected with what he considered the chief feature of that 
 scene effectually prevented his sleep being calm. He was haunted 
 by Isabelle. In imagination he saw her before him ; now with a 
 phial to her lips, then with a dagger at her heart, and anon upon the 
 brink of a precipice, from which he tried to snatch her in vain. He 
 seemed fixed to the earth he could not stir. He called to her she 
 heeded him not. There she stood, looking more lovely than ever, in 
 a position of imminent peril, while be had not the power to move a 
 single step with the view of saving her from destruction. Again he 
 called : she heard him, but shrieked, and disappeared. He felt him- 
 gelf fixed to the earth still ; but presently a white mist arose from 
 the gulf into which she had fallen, and when the wind had dispelled 
 it, he saw her upon the verge of the precipice again. He now ex- 
 perienced the same feelings of terror as before, and again she dashed 
 off, and again the mist restored her ; yet so desperately intent upon 
 destruction did she appear, that she dashed off again and again, but 
 as often as she did so the mist reinstated her almost instantaneously 
 upon the brink. She seemed unhurt ; but his apprehensions for her 
 safety were dreadful, and they increased every time she appeared. 
 And thus throughout the night was he tortured, writhing to break 
 his imaginary bonds, but finding himself utterly unable to move an 
 inch towards her whom he panted to save. 
 
 In the morning, therefore, he did not feel greatly refreshed ; but 
 he rose at the usual hour, with a vivid recollection of all that he had 
 in imagination seen, and reflected upon each circumstance as gravely 
 as if the whole had in reality occurred. While engaged in these re- 
 flections, Amelia watched the peculiar expression of his countenance 
 closely, and while at breakfast said, in a playful manner, 
 
 "Who is Isabelle ?" 
 
 Stanley started at the question, and the blood rushed to his 
 cheeks as he echoed, " Isabelle !" for he thought it very strange that 
 Amelia should put such a question at such a time, and half suspectedi 
 that some kind friend had informed her of certain circumstances, of 
 which she might as well have been kept in ignorance. " Isabelle !" 
 he repeated. " What Isabelle ?" 
 
 " Why, the Isabelle ! the little Isabelle ! the Isabelle whom you 
 so often addressed in your sleep." 
 
102 iTANLET THOBK. 
 
 " Oh ! I recollect !" cried Stanley, smiling ; for he really felt very 
 much relieved. "Isabelle! I remember ! Of course! I suppose 
 I must introduce you to little Isabelle. Oh ! she is such a beautiful 
 creature, if the vision be faithful." 
 
 " The vision ? But do you not know her ?" 
 
 "Know her! "Why, she is to be my second! The sweetest 
 little dear you ever beheld ! Such eyes ! such hair ! such ancles. 
 And yet no her dress was too long ; I did not see her ancles ; but 
 I am sure they are beautifully turned. And then she loves me so 
 dearly. Oh ! 1 must introduce you to my Isabelle." 
 
 This Stanley thought very ingenious. Had he pretended not to 
 know her, he conceived he might have done it with sufficient 
 aaucherie to excite suspicion ; but by affecting to know and to admire 
 ner, he imagined that the thing would be regarded as a jest. And 
 he was right in his conjecture as a jest it was regarded ; for the 
 perception of Amelia was so acute, that she felt it to be very unlikely 
 he would make any such acknowledgment if in reality it were so. 
 "Whether ladies in general are thus deceived, while priding themselves 
 upon this peculiar acuteness of perception, is a point which has yet to 
 be established ; it will be sufficient here to describe this as being the 
 effect upon the mind of Amelia, who believed that Isabelle was a 
 mere creature of the imagination, which was precisely the belief 
 that Stanley wished to inspire. Lest, however, any slight feeling 
 of jealousy should linger, he would not allow the matter to rest even 
 here. He explained to her how ardently he loved Isabelle, dwelt 
 upon the beautiful softness of her lips, lauded the luxuriance of her 
 ringlets, described her figure as being sylph-like in the extreme ; in- 
 deed, he depicted so lovely a creature, and declared his passion for her 
 in terms so warm, that Amelia at length thought it an excellent jest, 
 and the subject became one of infinite merriment. 
 
 Breakfast, however, was no sooner at an end than Stanley's 
 thoughts assumed a more serious character. He knew not how to 
 act. Isabelle he believed to be a virtuous good girl, and he was 
 therefore most anxious for her safety. And yet, ought he to ascertain 
 her residence, and call upon her ? Could he as a man, under the 
 circumstances, justify the pursuit of such a course ? She loved him 
 of that he felt firmly convinced ; but what object could he hope to 
 obtain by calling ? It might increase, but could not diminish, her 
 unhappiness ; and what right had he to sport with her feelings ? He 
 was bound by every honourable principle to do nothing calculated to 
 augment her wretchedness, and the probability was that neglect 
 would work a cure. 
 
 In this strain he argued with himself ft r some time ; and although 
 he felt anxious, most anxious, to ascertain if she were safe, he 
 eventually made up his mind not to call. 
 
STANLEY THOBIC. 103 
 
 CHAPTEE XYI. 
 
 IN WHICH THE WIDOW'S DESIGNS UPON SIE WILLIAM, AND SIB 
 WILLIAM'S DESIGNS UPON STANLEY, ABE DEVELOPED. 
 
 THIS being the auspicious day appointed for her party, the widow 
 was excessively busy all the morning ; and, as her primary object was 
 to astonish Sir "Wiiliam, everything dazzling in her possession was 
 displayed in a style the most chaste and superb. She scorned, how- 
 ever, to depend upon the display of her wealth solely : her faith in the 
 power of her personal charms was of an extremely high order ; and 
 hence, after having arranged the inanimate auxiliaries in the most 
 startling manner, and given the most minute and conflicting in- 
 structions to the servants, she proceeded to embellish tho^e personal 
 charms, and perhaps there never was such a job ! Everything cal- 
 culated to add fascination to nature was put in requisition. The 
 taste of her maid was in each particular instance repudiated. In 
 reality the girl bad no taste, and such being the afflicting state of 
 things, the widow of course had it all her own way ; and, therefore, 
 when the whole scheme had been accomplished, she certainly did 
 feel, and that strongly, that if in this world any lady ever looked the 
 thing, she did ! Characteristically illustrated at each grand point, 
 and jewelled after the fashion she most approved, " Well, really, 
 now," she observed, as she accosted herself familiarly, " what can be 
 said against the appearance of Lady Worm well !" for however ex- 
 traordinary it may appear that she should thus continue to harp 
 upon " Lady Worm well," it is a fact that she felt that the title became 
 her, and that she had been formed to do honour to the title. 
 
 It was fortunate, perhaps, that foreseeing that she might, on this 
 particular occasion, be at her toilet a little longer than usual, she 
 began to dress early ; for no sooner had she taken the lingering look 
 alluded to than Sir William arrived. It were folly to attempt to dis- 
 guise from the world that she did at this moment feel fluttered. It 
 was a moment of deep interest, certainly ; and yet, why should she 
 be so tremulous ? Why should her heart beat so ? Why should 
 she thus catch her breath, and turn faint ? She sat down to answer 
 these questions composedly ; but, as Sir William's arrival was now 
 officially announced, she started up, and took a deep inspiration. 
 All her courage was required, and she promptly summoned all 
 directed her carriage to be seut for Stanley and Amelia, which she 
 had deferred expressly, in order that she and Sir William might have 
 half an hour's sweet conversation alone took another smiling glance 
 at her peculiarly graceful person found matters all right and im- 
 posing and then at once proceeded to receive Sir William, in a 
 style which she felt his heart could not resist. What delight she 
 expressed, what joy she depicted, may be conceived. But how droll 
 
104 STANLEY THOU*. 
 
 were her sensations! She trembled like a foolish little bird ! Yet 
 how sweet is the love which a title inspires! what beautiful feelings 
 it engenders ! It is almost as pure and incorruptible as that which 
 is solely created by wealth. Happy widow! She felt this love 
 deeply ; and hence, although she had a trembling hand, she displayed 
 a sweet smile, and was, moreover, so fussy ! Sir William before con- 
 ceived that she was aiming at something ; but her great design now 
 became palpable. He saw through it all ; but he was not by any 
 means displeased. On the contrary, he took it upon himself to seem 
 flattered, and really enjoyed the thing rather than not ; for although 
 he was unmarried, and, being comparatively poor, had no great 
 contempt for wealth, be had certainly not the most remote idea of 
 entering into anything like a matrimonial alliance with the widow, 
 albeit it must be confessed that few ladies of large dimensions could 
 have looked more unique. But he humoured her fancy, and made 
 her believe that he was not insensible to her charms, because, among 
 other things, he imagined that she might be made useful, under cir- 
 cumstances of a pecuniary nature, the force of which few men knew 
 much better than himself. He therefore entered into the spirit of 
 the thing, and listened with great attention to the brilliant discourse 
 of the fascinating widow, who was so extremely communicative, and 
 managed to explain the precise character of her condition with so 
 much delicacy and tact, that, by the time the carriage drew up with 
 Stanley and Amelia, he had become, unsolicited, master of the whole 
 matter. 
 
 " You kept us waiting long enough, I hope !" cried Stanley, as he 
 entered. " I thought that you were not going to send for us at all." 
 
 " Upon my word, I beg pardon, my dear ; but this watch of mine 
 is really a very sad deceiver." 
 
 " "Why wear it, then ? "Why not have one that will keep correct 
 time ?" 
 
 " Well, well, don't be angry, my love. I am sorry it happened. 
 It shall not occur again." 
 
 This dialogue, short as it was, discovered to Sir William the true 
 state of the case. He saw Stanley's influence at a glance, and at 
 the moment conceived a project for enriching himself. This project 
 must, however, be left for the present. It was not then, even in 
 conception, matured ; and, as there was plenty of time for its execu- 
 tion, he troubled himself no more about it then, but continued to con- 
 verse on ephemeral topics with Amelia, (who could not help fancying, 
 that when she entered he pressed her hand with rather remarkable 
 warmth,) until dinner was announced. 
 
 The dinner passed off" very well. It was very recherche, and very 
 well managed. Sir William was Sir Williamed to his heart's con- 
 tent, and nothing but smiles and good humour prevailed. 
 
 A variety of interesting subjects were touched upon slightly ; but 
 at length one arose which had reference to the moral tendency of 
 exposing vice. The widow expressed a decided opinion that virtue 
 alone must be pourtrayed to induce a high appreciation of virtue ; 
 and S r William, as a matter of courtesy, agreed with her, and con- 
 tended that if the vicious were unknown, their example could not be 
 
STANLEY TUORX. 105 
 
 followed, which was certainly much to the point, clear and very con- 
 clusive. Stanley, however, was not content with this, and hence 
 inquired of Sir William if he cbjt cted to the system of guarding the 
 virtuous against the practices of the vicious. 
 
 "Decidedly not," returned Sir "William, " I would guard them 
 at every point, by placing before their eyes, constantly and ex- 
 clusively, the beautiful characteristics of virtue." 
 
 " Precisely," observed the widow. " Of all guards, virtue is t'.e 
 strongest." 
 
 "But by simply doing that," said Stanley, without noticing the 
 widow's rema-kabie observation, " I apprehend you would leave thi-m 
 unguarded. The inexperienced must be taught what to abhor, as 
 well as what to admire; what to shun, as well as what to em! , 
 And the beauty of virtue is never so conspicuous as when contrasted 
 with the deformity of vice." 
 
 "Teach men to be virtuous," rejoined Sir William, "and they 
 require to know nothing of vie, 1 ." 
 
 " But how are they to avoid the sua: ei laid for them by the 
 vicious ?" 
 
 "Experience will soon enable them to do that." 
 
 " But whose experience ? Tiieir own, or the experience of others ? 
 We cannot be secure in our own experience, and huuce to th 
 experienced an exposition of vice is a blessing. Our own experience 
 cannot guide us ; we must not be left to it alone. If, for example, a, 
 young and lovely creature should fall, ought we not to describe the 
 villanous means by which her fall was accomplished, that others may 
 avoid them ? That young fallen creature was left to her own ex- 
 perience. Had she been permitted to profit by the experience of 
 others, she might still have been virtuous still pure still the pride 
 of her home a blearing to her family the solace of those whose 
 hearts she may have broken ; but having merely frer own experience 
 to guide her, she was ensnared, and her experience must, forsooth, 
 not be imparted to others. No ; they, in turn, must learn by their 
 own expeiiencetoo! Society would be wrecked it' the virtuous and 
 the honourable were not constantly warned, by the experience of 
 others, against those by whom vice* -and dishonour are practised. 
 How are we to shun that of which we are unconscious ? How are 
 we to frustrate the designs of the villain, if we are kept in utter igno- 
 rance of those designs ? How are the young, however exemplary 
 and amiable, to a\oid the specious, deeply-laid schemes of the 
 seducer, if the arts of seduction are kept out of view ? They must be 
 warned ; and as they can be effectually warned only by the experience 
 of others, the knowledge of that experience should not be withheld. 
 It is the duty of all, whether in private conversation, in moral dis- 
 quisitions, or in histories which amuse while they instruct, to portray 
 the deformities of vice, with the view of rendering more appareut the 
 beauties of virtue." 
 
 It certainly did not require all this to convince Sir William Worm- 
 well, that if vice were not exposed, our social system would soon 
 be destroyed ; but having taken the opposite side, to please the 
 wJdt-w, he felt bound to tight her battle until she was perfectly 
 14 
 
106 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 satisfied when, perceiving his occupation as her champion gone he 
 observed, with a smile, that he thought Stanley ought to have been 
 in the Church. This acute observation was very much approved by 
 the widow, who began to think so too ; while Amelia was delighted 
 with her Stanley, which is not very marvellous, considering how 
 easily affectionate and intelligent wives are by such means charmed 
 by their husbands. All were therefore well content ; and when Sir 
 William had covered his retreat by observing, that the grand point 
 was to describe the career of the vicious, so that none might either 
 sympathise with them, or wish to follow their example, the con- 
 versation turned upon the turf. 
 
 " Of course you go to Epsom ?" said Sir William. 
 
 " I scarcely know," replied Stanley, " I have not even given it a 
 thought." 
 
 " Then you have no favourite horse in the Derby ?" 
 
 " I don't even know the name of any one that has been entered. 
 In fact, my knowledge of the turf is exceedingly limited." 
 
 " In that case, I should strongly advise you to bet only with 
 friends." 
 
 " Would it not be as well," suggested Amelia, "to abstain from 
 betting altogether ?" 
 
 "Decidedly," replied Sir "William. "But men, from the highest 
 to the lowest, who take the slightest interest in a race, will bet. 
 The impulse is irresistible. If even they have nothing at stake, 
 they cannot avoid wishing that a certain horse may win, and that is 
 sufficient for them to prompt them to back that wish, if they happen 
 to have any one to bet with. It is, however, folly for the inex- 
 perienced to bet with any but friends." 
 
 " But w r hen are the races ?" inquired the widow. 
 
 " Next Wednesday is the grand day." 
 
 " Oh, I should like to go dearly ! 1 never was at a race in my life. 
 I am sure I should enjoy it above all things. Shouldn't you, my 
 love ?" 
 
 " I should indeed," returned Amelia. " Papa took me down last 
 year, and I was so much delighted ! You can scarcely imagine what 
 a lovely scene it is." 
 
 "Well, suppose, then, Stanley were to take us ?" said the widow, 
 who, after smiling sweetly at Sir William, added, "you, I presume, 
 are engaged ?" 
 
 " No ; I have no particular engagement." 
 
 " Ob, it would be so delightful if you would go with us !" 
 
 " I assure you that nothing would give me greater pleasure. 
 What say you ?" he added, addressing Stanley. 
 
 "Oh! I am quite agreeable." 
 
 " There's a good creature !" cried Amelia. " We will not be the 
 slightest trouble to you. You can have your own horses down there, 
 as papa and Albert had, and ride about as you please." 
 
 " Exactly," said the widow. " You can send them forward, and 
 we can all go down together in my carriage. We shall be so com- 
 fortable and so happy 1" 
 
 It was accordingly arranged, and the remainder of the evening 
 
STANLEY THORN. 1C? 
 
 wag spent most agreeably ; but the greatest amount of delight was 
 experienced by the widow, who then felt as certain of being Lady 
 Woimwell as if a formal declaration had already been made. This 
 Sir "William of course perceived, and took especial care to give 
 strength and depth to that feeling, conceiving it to be essential to 
 the due execution of that scheme of which the outline may as wel 
 be explained. He saw that Stanley was on the high roud to ruin, 
 that he derived all the means he had of travelling that road from the 
 widow ; and that her wealth would be thereby most sensibly di- 
 minished, if, indeed, it were not wholly absorbed. He therefore put 
 it to himself whether he ought to suffer so golden an opportunity to 
 slip. In a pecuniary sense he was not in a good position ; but he 
 felt that he might retrieve himself by a little ingenuity, and the 
 only question was Could he do it in the way proposed with honour ? 
 It was some time before he could answer this question with any 
 degree of satisfaction to himself; but he did so eventually thus: 
 
 " We are the creatures of circumstances : circumstances govern all 
 our actions. Is not therefore non-resistance venial when circum- 
 stances surround us in the shape of temptations to acts which in a 
 strict sense partake of the character of dishonour ? Besides, the 
 means I propose to employ are means which the world calls ' honour- 
 able,' and none can be disgraced by the employment of those means 
 in the eye of the world. Why, then, should not I, by those ' honour- 
 able' means enrich myself? It' this fortune is to be lost, why should 
 not I win it ? I will : and while doing so defy the world to say that 
 I violated in any single instance its own code of honour." 
 
 By this ingenious species of ratiocination he tranquillised his con- 
 science, and having laid the basis of success by appearing as amiable 
 as possible in the eyes of the widow, who waa in raptures, he left for 
 the night. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BOB MAKES A DISCOVERY WHICH IS CALCULATED TO BE HIGHLY 
 ADVANTAGEOUS. 
 
 As it has been already placed on record that, in consequence of 
 Stanley's departure from the park before the friends of the lady 
 whom he had rescued had time to express their gratitude, Bob felfc 
 that he had been, to a sen-ible extent, victimized, it may now with- 
 out any impropriety be stated that, as he could not suppress his 
 purely natural feeling, he had been ever since looking out for the old 
 groom with unparalleled sharpness and zeal. His expectation of 
 meeting with that ancient individual had been particularly lively and 
 strong: his object being to impart to the friends of that lady 
 through him the fact that Stanley was the person by whom the 
 gallant action was performed ; for, being a pure and faithful servant, 
 
108 STANLEY TllOliK. 
 
 he held it to be a pity that they should remain in utter ignorance of 
 him \vho was so justly and so eminently entitled to their thanks. 
 
 He had, however, been signally unsuccessful in his search. He 
 had described with artistical fervour the chief characteristics of the 
 animated piece of antiquity in question to every gentleman with 
 whom be had the honour of being acquainted ; but, as they were un- 
 able to give him any specific clue to the discovery of the ancient, he 
 felt quite at a loss ; for he did not conceive it to be strictly correct 
 to advertise him in the "Hue and Cry," or, indeed, in any of the 
 public papers, although he would with much willingness have 
 offered a reward of five shillings for his apprehension, to be paid on 
 conviction of his being the same man. 
 
 Notwithstanding he had been grievously disappointed in spirit in 
 divers instances in which he had made sure of having the honour to 
 run him down, Bob nobly scorned to give the thing up : he felt per- 
 fectly certain that he should have the pleasure of meeting the old 
 gentleman at some period somewhere; and to show the rather extra- 
 ordinary correctness of this conjecture, it will be necessary to ex- 
 plain that immediately after Stanley and Amelia had started to meet 
 ISir William at the widow's, he miraculously beheld, as he was walk- 
 ing down Urgent Street to have an hour's confidential conversation 
 with a friend, the identical individual on horseback, behind a lady 
 who really looked very much indeed like the one who had been so 
 providentially preserved. 
 
 In an instant Bob knew him. He could not be mistaken. He 
 could have sworn conscientiously to his being the same man. But 
 then, what was he to do ? They were trotting rather briskly ; 
 and the proximity of the groom to his mistress was so remarkable 
 that he really could not speak to him then with any degree of 
 convenience. He could therefore pursue but one course, and that 
 course he did pursue. He started off with the inflexible determi- 
 nation not to lose sight of them, seeing that he felt at least two 
 sovereigns all but in his pocket. He had not the smallest doubt 
 that they resided in May Eair, or ita immediate vicinity ; and, as 
 they turned up Piccadilly, he darted after them with joy, although 
 he found it excessively hot. They passed Bond Street and Sackville 
 Street which, of course, was just what he expected ; but then they 
 dashed up to the Park which did by no means meet his views ; and 
 he could not avoid ex pressing privately to himself au innocent wish 
 that it had been otherwise. There was, however, no help for it, 
 although it was very sultry. He stiil kept on, resolved not to be 
 beaten; but it cannot be denied that he found the perspiration 
 becoming unpleasantly profuse. It i?, however, the spirit which 
 sustains a man under circumstances of an adverse character : it is 
 that which enables him to overcome difficulties, under which he 
 would else of necessity sink. Bob highly appreciated this profoundly 
 philosophical fact ; and htnce would not permit Irs manly spirit to 
 flag. Still he thought it very hard, for he felt very warm and un- 
 comfortable as the conviction flashed vividly across his brain, that, 
 instead of the lady being on her way home, as he had fondly con- 
 ceived, she had in reality but just come out ; and, when he took into 
 
STANLEY THORff. 109 
 
 cairn consideration the character of ladies in the aggregate, he 
 thought it extremely probable that Heaven only knew when she 
 meant to return. He, notwithstanding all this, disdained to lose 
 sight of her ; he still kept on running; and, as he ran, a variety of 
 ideas kept darting into his head and darting out again. There was, 
 however, one which made a short stay, and this was, that if he went 
 back to the gate he should be just as secure as if he ran round the 
 ring. But then, he asked himself how he could, in the nature of 
 things, tell that she would not go out at one of the other gates ? 
 This was a question to which he could give no satisfactory answer ; 
 and, as at the moment the ghosts of two sovereign?, as if to warn 
 him, flitted grimly before his imagination, he felt strongly that it 
 would not do at all to leave anything to chance, although he had a 
 horrid notion that he should not be able to keep the game alive 
 much longer, seeing that he actually did feel as nearly as possible 
 exhausted. 
 
 Having passed Cumberland Gate, the lady, with great considera- 
 tion, walked her horse, whioh Bob held to be a blessing, and was very 
 thankful for it. It enabled him to recover his breath a little ; when, 
 perceiving that all was quite safe, he took a short cut back, still 
 keeping his eyes fixed wit h surpassing firmness upon his object, and 
 being prepared to dart after her if she offered to turn ; but, happily 
 for him, no such offer vas made. Gracefully and deliberately she 
 came along the drive, and at length passed into Piccadilly. 
 
 At this point Bob tried to attract the attention of the ancient 
 groom, who happened to be a greater distance behind his mistress 
 than usual ; but that gentleman, being absorbed in his own private 
 reflections, failed to notice him ; a circumstance which Bob did 
 not care much about; for, in the first place, he was not in a fit 
 state to speak to any one having the slightest pretensions to respect- 
 ability ; in the second, he could not have held any lengthened con- 
 versation with him then ; and in the third, he imagined that there 
 could not be two strictly rational opinions about his being able now 
 to discover their residence with ease. Under these peculiar circum- 
 stances, therefore, he continued to follow them ; and, albeit from 
 Park Lane to Burlington Arcade the lady caused him to run with 
 great velocity, he was firmly determined that it never should be said 
 after all that he gave in. From Burlington Arcade to the Circus 
 they proceeded very coolly ; but they dashed off again up Regent 
 Street, where several individuals of Bob's acquaintance turned to 
 marvel what on earth it could be which caused him to run at such 
 an ungentlemanly rate. He stopped not, however, to explain ; but 
 kept on with great spirit until the lady cantered calmly over Oxford 
 Street, at which point his heart sank within him. 
 
 " Is it possible," thought he, " that she is going to have a turn in 
 the Eegent's Park ?" 
 
 ' As she passed Langham Church he held this to be very possible ; 
 but, just as he was putting it to himself first, whether he was able 
 to hold out ; and, second, whether, if even he had the ability, it was 
 worth his while to do so, she stopped before a door, which was im- 
 mediately opened by a porter, when with the necessary assistance she 
 
STANLEY THOEK. Ill 
 
 will take things easy. Why don't they pension them off! That's 
 my sentiments." 
 
 'Venerable Joe soon returned ; and when he did return he duly 
 inquired of Bob how he felt himself by that time, which was very 
 affectionate ; and Bob made an appropriate reply, and then went to 
 work in earnest. 
 
 " Well," said he, " that was a queer start, though ; wasn't it, eh P" 
 
 " I believe yer," said Venerable Joe, " it just vos. Tour gov'ner 
 must a bin rather a rummy un to 've cocht that air warmint, 'cos he 
 ain't no dirt." 
 
 " JS"o, he's a decentish sort. But was your misses hurt at all ?" 
 
 " Not a bit ; but werry frightened. Ven she come round she 
 vundered who it vos. Says she, ' Joseph,' says she, ' d'yer know,' says 
 she, 'that air genelmanf" 'No, miss,' ?ays I, 'I carn't say,' says 
 I, ' I know who he is ; but I think,' says I, ' I've seed Mm afore." 
 The old G-eneral, too, vos werry anxious about 'im ; but I couldn't 
 tell who he vos, 'cos I didn't know." 
 
 " My governor, you see, is such a bashful cove. T wanted him to 
 stop ; but he cut away as if he was afeard of being thanked, which 
 was not the thing exactly : but do you tell them that it was him. 
 It's a pity they shouldn't know, for it really was very well done." 
 
 Venerable Joe quite agreed with Bob, who gave him his master's 
 address, and thus laid the foundation. He then had the pot again 
 replenished, and they became very friendly and very communicative, 
 and entered into each other's views, and conversed on various topics 
 with great eloquence and point ; and, in the course of conversation, 
 the ancient explained how many miles he once walked within the 
 hour, how many runs he once scored in one innings, how many 
 sparrows out of eleven he once killed from five traps, how many pins 
 he got down nine time running at skittles, how many quoits he once 
 rang out of a dozen ; with a full explanation of an infinite variety of 
 equestrian manoeuvres, \\hich never could have been performed by 
 any other man. 
 
 "Well," said Bob at length, "and how do you stand for the 
 Darby?" 
 
 " Vy, I carn't say as I'm in for much this 'ear, although I know the 
 'ess as is to do the trick as veil as his rider as is to 'ave a thousand 
 pun' note ven he v ins." 
 
 " Well, I don't care much," said Bob, " I'm all safe ; but i 
 shouldn't mind standing a drop of anything you like to know that." 
 
 " Vj 7 er see, I don't know that I can tell yer jist yet, yer see, 
 vithout betraying confidence ; and if I do that they'll never tell me 
 nothin' ag'in ; but I shall see yer ag'in, no doubt, werry soon, and 
 you shall be the fust to 'ave the oflice. 'Ave you got a heavyish book 
 this ear ?" 
 
 " Why, not a very heavy 'un," replied Bob, as he produced it. "I 
 always bet wet. Dry bets are so troublesome to get in. Men don't 
 like to fork out dry money ; and if you bore 'em, you know, it's a de- 
 licate thing, besides, it looks so, when they dou't mind paying for 
 what they have part of. I've got let me see, I've got down forty 
 glasses of brandy-and-water, six-and-twenty of rum-and-water, 
 
112 STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 Beventy-two fourpenn'orths of gin-and-water, thirty pots of ale, 
 and eight-and-twenty ditto of half-and-half; and, according to my 
 reckoning, if one horse wins and I'm quite nuts upon him I shall 
 win twenty glasses of brand y-and-water, sixteen four penn'orths, 
 and twelve pots of ale ; and if he loses, let it go how it may, I can't 
 win less than six of brandy-and-water, ten of rum-and-water, four- 
 penn'orths, and eight pots of half-and-half." 
 
 " But, vether he vins or loses, the whole bilin' 's to come in." 
 
 " As a matter of course, every drain. Now I'm open to take seven 
 to two against the favourite in anything." 
 
 " That don't suit my book," observed Venerable Joe. " I can btt 
 five to two." 
 
 "Brandy-and-water?" 
 
 " No ; aither fourpenn'orths or half-and-arf." 
 
 "Wait a bit," said Bob, uho again consulted his book, while the 
 ancient knitted his brows, and looked very injsterious. "Make it 
 brandy-and-water, and I'll take you." 
 
 " Werry well, I don't care ; but let me adwise yer as a friend not 
 to be too spicy upon the favourite. I on'y iruan it, in course, as 
 an 'int. 
 
 " Oh ! I'm safe enough. Let 's see General Johnsonses Joseph, 
 five to two, brandy-and-water. That 's all regular. Now let us see 
 how I stand." 
 
 Bob then proceeded to make up his book, and found himself still 
 in a very fair position ; and when they had had another pot of half- 
 and-half he took leave of his antique friend, again impressing upon 
 his mind the implicit character of the faith he had in his promise 
 that he would at once inform the General where Stanley was to be 
 found, and the warm re-assurances of Venerable Joe made him happy. 
 
 " The General," thought he, "is now certain to call ; and when he 
 does call, of course he'll inquire about me ; and, when I see him, I 
 don't see how he can make me a present of less than a sov., and the 
 lady herself can't stand less than another. So that it's not on the 
 whole a bad move by any means." 
 
 Nor was it. As far as the calling of the General wag concerned, 
 Bob's conjecture was very correct, for the General did call the fol- 
 lowing morning, and Amelia was delighted to see him. He was a 
 friend of her father a bosom friend ; and, therefore, although 
 Stanley was from home at the time, he sent his card up to her, in the 
 full conviction that he was right, for the name of Thorn had been 
 impressed upon his mind by the circumstance of its having been at 
 Hichmond made the subject of many bitter puns. 
 
 "My poor girl!" he cried, as Amelia approached him. "I hope 
 you are well." 
 
 " I thank you," said Amelia, " quite well. Oil ! I am so glad to 
 see you. This is indeed kind." 
 
 The General explained why he had called, and then shook his head 
 mournfully. 
 
 " You would reprove me ?" said Amelia. 
 
 " No, no, my pt-or girl ! not you not you ; I blame him : but I 
 should'nt ha^e cared e\vn for that if he had been a good fellow." 
 
STANLEY TIIOBN. 113 
 
 " Good, General ! What may you mean ?" 
 
 " Sad dog ! sad dog ! Sorry for you very sorry." 
 
 "As far as my Stanley is concerned, upon my word you need not 
 be, for he is one of the kindest creatures that ever breathed." 
 
 " Silly girls ! silly girls ! it is just like you all. "Why, I hear 
 but no matter. I can but regret it." 
 
 "If you have heard," aaid Amelia, "anything at all unfavourable 
 of him, you have heard that which is highly incorrect. They who 
 state that he is not a dear, kind, good, affectionate soul, basely 
 wrong him." 
 
 " Well well," said the General, again taking her hand ; " but 
 tell me, now, candidly I know you are all very anxious to conceal 
 the faults of those whom you love but come, tell me it may be 
 better for you, my poor girl, in every way is he really, now, what 
 you represent him to be ?" 
 
 " Ke is indeed," replied Amelia, fervently. " Believe me, he is 
 kind most kind." 
 
 " Then, by Heaven ! the Captain shall hold out no longer. I'll 
 make him come round. He shall do it." 
 
 " Oh, if you could induce dear papa to forgive us !" 
 
 " He shall!" exclaimed the General. " A man has no right to be 
 severe without reason !" 
 
 " I feel that I have given him great cause to be severe ; but do 
 use your kind influence. Do, there's a dear soul ! Pray pray do 
 assure him that his anger is now the only thing which renders our 
 happiness imperfect. Do this, and I will bless you!" 
 
 " Depend upon me, my dear girl. I'll run down to-morrow. I'll 
 make him come round. I thought you had a mad, harum-scarum, 
 rakish rascal for a husband, who delighted in making you wretched ; 
 instead of a fine, brave, high-spirited fellow, who, while he knows 
 what is due to himself, can respect the best feelings of others. I 
 know he's a fine fellow. I'm sure of it. If he had not been, he 
 couldn't have saved my poor girl. I respect him. I admire him. 
 Eely upon it, I'll put matters right, down at Eichmond." 
 
 Amelia thanked him, and blessed him, and begged of him to give 
 her dear love to her papa ; and to implore in her name his forgive- 
 ness. All which the General promised most faithfully to do ; and 
 then left her in tears, which were not those of sorrow . 
 
 .CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH A POINT OF SOME INTEREST IS ABGUED AT EICHMOND, 
 
 WHEN Bob heard that General Jackson had called, his indignation 
 was excessive. He was in the house nt the very time, nay, all the 
 time the General was there ; and theref jr3 could not but express in 
 15 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 the warmest terms hia sense of the extremely ungentlemanlike con- 
 duct of bis fellow-servant "William, wbo knew that the most direct 
 intimations had been given, that when the General called be desired 
 to have the honour of letting him out. He was conscious of this, 
 quite conscious ; and yet, having taken up the General's card, and 
 become thereby certain of its being the General, this slave of passion 
 returned to the kitchen, in which Bob and the cook were refreshing 
 themselves with cold chicken and short cakes, and never mentioned 
 a single syllable having reference to the General until he had actually 
 departed ! This Bob held to be a dereliction of principle, of a 
 description so monstrous that it was with extreme difficulty that he 
 withheld that degree of prompt chastisement to which he conceived 
 the delinquent entitled. His philosophy, however, imparted strength 
 to his forbearance, and eventually caused him to be content with 
 administering a grave expostulation, to the justice of which the cook 
 promptly subscribed ; for that amiable person had an ardent affection 
 for Bob an affection which manifested itself chiefly in this, that she 
 reserved for him exclusively all those delicacies of which she knew 
 him to be strikingly fond, which was a monopoly, a species of 
 favouritism, of which William did by no means approve ; lor, as he 
 had an ardent affection for the cook, it rendered him very uncom- 
 fortable. It is to this, and to this alone, that his highly reprehensible 
 conduct on the occasion in question must be attributed. He was 
 jealous in the tenderest sense jealous ; and, albeit, the object of 
 his love was extremely tyrannical, and treated him with very unlady- 
 like indignity, when he saw her and Bob thus enjoying themselves 
 with the short cakes and chickens, the spirit of revenge took posses- 
 sion of his soul so securely, that it was with a feeling of intense satis- 
 faction he announced, when the General had left, that the General 
 had been. This feeling was, however, short-lived; for while the 
 cook laboured zealously to prove to him how utterly unfit he was in 
 consequence to be in any respectable kitchen, Bob was engaged in 
 philosophically showing that his behaviour was beneath the true 
 dignity of a man, which had a powerful effect. 
 
 Stanley no sooner returned than Amelia explained to him with 
 feelings of delight that Miss Johnson was the lady whom he had 
 rescued ; that the General had called with a warm heart to thank 
 him ; and that he had promised to use his influence with the Captain 
 in their favour ; all which imparted great satisfaction to Stanley, 
 who, however, felt more than he expressed. 
 
 " I wonder," said he, " how the General found me out ?" 
 
 " His servant, it appears, knew you/' 
 
 " Well, I am glad that he has called, because, knowing the family, 
 it will be pleasant for you ; and I appreciate his kindness in offering 
 to reason with your father ; but rely upon it, Amelia, he will soon 
 come round without the mediation of friends ; and perhaps it would 
 have been quite as well to let him in his own way get over his 
 obstinacy." 
 
 " Nay, my love, do not use a term so harsh." 
 
 " Why, what other term can be so applicable ? What but ob- 
 stinacy is it ? sheer obstinacy ?" 
 
STANLEY THORN. 15 
 
 " Fie, Stanley ! Remember he is my father!" 
 
 ""Well, well, my good girl, I'll say no more Oh! by the by,. 
 Worm well wants me to dine with him to-day. Will you give me 
 leave to go ?" 
 
 " G-ive you leave !" said Amelia, with a smile. 
 
 "Why, of course. I cannot presume to go without. I told him 
 that you ruled me with a rod of iron, and that therefore your per- 
 mission must first be obtained." 
 
 Amelia was rather pleased with this ide.i she thought it quite 
 original and playfully said, that as such was the case, if he promised 
 to be good, he might go, for which, of course, he felt grateful ; and 
 well knowing how little it required to delight that gentle creature, 
 expressed his gratitude with appropriate humility, and then sum- 
 moned Bob, for the purpose of giving him instructions to take the 
 hordes down to Epsom in the morning. 
 
 With these instructions Bob, of course, was highly pleased ; and 
 in the morning be accordingly started ; and at about the same time 
 General Johnson set off with the view of performing his promise to 
 Amelia. The General had in the interim formed his plan. When 
 he proposed to himself the attainment of any object, he would carry 
 the point, if possible, by storm ; but being an excellent tactician, and 
 knowing Captain Joliffe sufficiently well to know that with him hia 
 favourite mode of attack would not succeed, he made up his mind 
 to accomplish the thing by stratagem, although he preferred thei 
 storming principle much. He appeared to feel that his reputation 
 was at stake in this matter ; and it was indeed one of his chief 
 characteristics that whenever he undertook to perform a task for 
 another, he felt more deeply mortified in the event of a failure than 
 the pei son whom he generously intended to serve. It was hence 
 that he had studied his course of proceeding in this case so delibe- 
 rately ; and as the result of that study was to convince him that he 
 must act with great caution upon the Captain's pride, he resolved to 
 make it appear that he entertained the most friendly feelings towards 
 Stanley, and to show that his noble spirit rendered him worthy not 
 only of the affection of Amelia, but of general esteem and admira- 
 tion, well knowing how powerfully men are influenced by the 
 opinions of those who form the social circles in which they move, 
 and how easily favourable prepossessions are thus created, and ad- 
 verse prejudices destroyed. 
 
 On arriving at Richmond, the General was, as usual, received most 
 cordially. The Captain insisted upon his dining with them, of course, 
 and equally of course the General consented, but conversed upon 
 none but ephemeral topics until they bad dined, when he thought it 
 correct to touch with care upon that point which he felt himself then 
 more than ever bound to carry, and, therefore, much to the delight 
 of Mrs. Joliffe, who indulged in occasional exclamations of joy, pro- 
 ceeded to relate all the circumstances connected with the perilous 
 position of his daughter, taking care to paint the rescue in colours 
 the most attractive ; and, having set the Captain in the right train 
 of thought, and drawn tears from the eyes of his affectionate lady, he, 
 with admirable tact, waived the subject until he and the Captain 
 
110 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 were alone, when it was with great caution resumed, but with much 
 more confidence on the part of the General, who saw that he had 
 already made a favourable impression. 
 
 " What a pity it is," said he, after a pause, during which the Cap- 
 tain appeared to be lost in a reverie " what a pity it is you are 
 not reconciled to that young man. I, of course, should be pleased 
 if you were, as I am placed in rather an awkward position ; for I 
 candidly confess to you that there are, indeed, very few whom I 
 esteem more highly than him ; but, independently of that conside- 
 ration, upon my honour I think that you have held out now quite 
 long enough. I am aware that these fugitive marriages are very 
 seldom productive of happiness ; but I must say that, as there is 
 now every prospect of this being an exception to the general rule, 
 you will not act with wisdom if you treat them too harshly." 
 
 " General, when I speak to you, I speak not only to a man of sense 
 and judgment, but to one who is a father, and who possesses a 
 father's feelings. I, therefore, with confidence, put it to you how, 
 under the self-same circumstances, would you have acted ?" 
 
 " Doubtless, precisely as you have : nay, perhaps with a greater 
 degree of harshness. I do not believe that I should have been quite 
 so tranquil. But then, in our own cases, we appear to be incapable 
 of forming a correct judgment. "We ought not to act upon our own 
 impulses alone ; we ought to be guided by the calmer judgment of 
 others ; our own feelings are too warm, too acute, too one-sided to 
 allow us to do justice. If any young dog were to run away with my 
 girl, I should rave, and storm, and threaten to blow out his brains, 
 no doubt ; but then I should look upon any other man who raved, 
 and stormed, and threatened, under similar circumstances, as being 
 unwise ! We, therefore, ought not to depend upon our own judg- 
 ment in such a case as this. It is perfectly sure to be perverted. 
 We ought, rather, to be guided by those who have the power to 
 feel all that we feel, but whose judgment is not warped by the imme- 
 diate operation of those feelings. But what are the chief points of 
 that young man's character to which you object ?" 
 
 " His youth and inexperience : his utter want of that knowledge 
 of the world which is so essential to the pursuit of a prosperous and 
 strictly honourable course through it." 
 
 " Exactly : the very points to which I should object. My girl 
 should not, with my consent, marry any man who had not sufficient 
 experience to resist the temptations, and to ward off the dazzling 
 diablerie of the vicious. But what would you say to me if a young 
 fellow without this experience were clandestinely to marry my girl, 
 and I were to hold out, as you do, what would be your advice 
 tome?" 
 
 " I should certainly advise you to hold out still, that he might feel 
 that, as his wife had made a sacrifice of all for him, he was bound to 
 cherish her with tenfold tenderness." 
 
 " Very good very good. I should, then, think it excellent advice, 
 and should follow it, no doubt ; but, if I did, what beside should I 
 be doing ? Why laying the foundation of the defeat of the very 
 had in view ; driving that young man to form promiscuous 
 
STANLEY THORN. 117 
 
 friendships ; driving him in the way of every species of temptation ; 
 driving him pell-mell into the haunts of vice and villany ; for, who 
 can expect a young fellow like that to be always at home ? He will 
 go out, and ought to go out ; but when he does, where is he to go ? 
 What connexions is he likely to form ? "Who are likely to be his 
 associates, when, full of blood and spirit, he has the means of in- 
 dulging in every extravagant pleasure ? And then, his wife what 
 is she to do during his absence ? Deserted by her friends, because 
 spurned by her relatives : no one to converse with, no one to visit, 
 no one in whom she can with safety confide ! It is true very 
 true, that she ought to have thought of this before ; but then, she 
 didn't think of it : she rushed into this position, and there she is ! 
 It is also true that she ought to consider herself but justly punished 
 for her disobedience ; but, Captain, as men of the world, you and I 
 well know it to ba unsufe, to say the least of it, to punish a young 
 and beautiful woman too severely in this way. Besides, we ought to 
 take into consideration that all the punishment in such a case falls 
 upon her, which is not the correct thing, by any means. You would 
 not wish, I am certain, to be unduly severe with her; you would 
 not wish to stand as a barrier between her and happiness. I feel 
 quite convinced that you never wished to do this, and yet is this the 
 very thing you do. I should have done in every respect, no doubt, 
 precisely as you have ; but I think, that after a time, I should havo 
 been induced to feel that I was thereby defeating the very object I 
 wished to attain. Now, I never yet found you unreasonable. I am 
 not a man to natter ; you will acquit me, I am sure, of any desire to 
 do that ; but I never knew you stubbornly to repudiate any rational 
 view. It is hence that I now feel quite sure that, if you look at this 
 matter again calmly, you will be as well convinced, as I plainly con- 
 fess that I am, that you will not be doing your duty as a father if 
 you stercly hold out after this." 
 
 " General, I need not assure you that my only object in holding 
 out has been to secure, eventually, my poor girl's happiness. God 
 bless her ! I love her as fondly as before. Nay, she seems to be 
 even more dear to me than tver." 
 
 " I believe it. I know it. I feel it. Forgive her : forgive them 
 both. She is a good girl, and he well deserves her. He treats her, 
 as he ought, with the most affectionate tenderness." 
 
 " I am net sure of that." 
 
 " I am perfectly sure. The intense, the artless fervour with 
 which she assured me that such was the fact, renders it impossible lor 
 me to disbelieve it. Receive them, then. Come, you have no wish 
 to torture her. Be reconciled. And mark my words, Captain 
 they will be happy, most happy, the happiest pair that ever lived." 
 
 " If I were sure of that " 
 
 " Be sure of it ! make up your mind to it. Be sure of this, also, 
 that it rests with you whether they are happy or miserable. Don't 
 let them live as if they were outcasts of society. Don't drive that 
 youth to seek an exciting change of scene among blacklegs and roues. 
 Let him feel that you care for him, and he will care for you. Let 
 him feel that he has some one with whom he can advise. Let them 
 
118 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 both be restored to the position they ought to occupy. Let them 
 both feel that in you they have a father, indeed. By Jupiter, sir, 
 you'll do wrong if you continue to close your doors against them. 
 Come, say you will receive them ; say you will meet them at my 
 house : that, perhaps, will be better, for I know him to be a high- 
 spirited dog, who is not much enamoured of humility, and I respect 
 him the more ; for it affords, in my view, an additional proof that 
 he takes his stand solely upon the honourable character of his 
 intentions. Come, let me arrange it. Don't give me an answer 
 now. Sleep upon it. Turn it well over in your mind : weigh every 
 circumstance deliberately and calmly, and then let me know your 
 decision." 
 
 This the Captain most willingly promised to do. He was even 
 then prepared to decide, but the General would not receive his 
 answer : he insisted upon the propriety of a little more reflection, 
 although he by no means conceived it to be absolutely necessary, and 
 soon after left, in the perfect conviction that the object proposed had 
 been attained. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 STANLEY AND BOB PUKCHASE SOME EXPERIENCE AT EPSOM. 
 
 IT were, perhaps, very vain, if not very presumptuous, to speculate 
 deeply upon the subject without data; but if any purely patriotic 
 member of the Commons were to move for a return of all the money 
 won and lost on the Derby, such return would be a document of ex- 
 traordinary interest, and one which, in the nature of things, would 
 go far towards stunning the worlci. With the aid of a few accom- 
 plished calculating bays in full practice, the thing might be easily 
 got at ; for they would only have two distinct classes to separate 
 the winners and the losers to get on as fast as could well be ex- 
 pecte<l ; while they would clearly derive very material assistance 
 from a knowledge of the fact that twenty sporting characters may 
 bet to the amount of twenty millions, without one of them winning 
 or losing a pound. 
 
 But, apart from the high consideration having reference to the 
 actual discovery of the amount, it seems abundantly clear that, 
 although in a nominal sense they who are deep in the science of 
 betting for a science it has indisputably become have it hollow ; 
 the greatest amount of money is actually won from the brilliant 
 superficial professors ; it being a striking truth, and one which no 
 sort of sophistry can smother, that in betting although it is not 
 BO in music an imperfect sha^p makes the most perfect flat. 
 
 When the mind is bro* to bear with due weight upon the 
 
STANLEY THORtf. 119 
 
 varied ramifications of this interesting science, it will be found to be 
 one of so much excellence, per se, that, although it may be even now 
 pretty well taught at our Universities, it will appear to be rather 
 strange in the abstract that prizes should not have been established 
 as well for that as for Greek and mat hematics. This might, perhaps, 
 in consequence of its immediate proximity to Newmarket, obtain in 
 the first instance at Cambridge ; for, albeit every Cambridge man 
 now may be said to possess a fair knowledge of the elements of the 
 science, that knowledge is clearly insufficient to induce a correct 
 appreciation of its beauties, or to guide a sporting character out of 
 that attractive labyrinth, into which ardent tyros are too prone to 
 rush. How admirable is it to see a strictly scientific sporting 
 character making up his book ! As a grocer conducts a transaction 
 of barter, as a high-toned attorney, standing boldly upon the legiti- 
 mate integrity of his principles, makes out an ingenious bill of costs, 
 to cover with comfort the sums received, so he weighs every item 
 again and again with a perfectly unintercepitible view to its bearing 
 upon the general balance. Nor is it necessary for him to be a judge 
 of horse-fit sh. By no means. He sports his money safely to the 
 extent of tens of thousands, without seeing one of the horses that are 
 entered : he bets upon credit, the credit of those who bet before him : 
 the exercise of his own individual judgment is altogether supere- 
 rogatory : he gives and takes the odds in the dark ; but, oh ! what a 
 highly enlightened darkness is his ! And in this, perhaps, consists 
 the chief beauty of the science. If a horse be a favourite at Tatter- 
 Ball's, he is, in consequence, the favourite all over the world, if even he 
 should have but three legs. His pedigree is nothing : his name ia 
 up. He is the favourite ! That is held to be sufficient by regular 
 sporting characters, from the highest to the lowest ; from those who 
 take six to four in thousands, to those who take three to two in 
 fourpenny pieces. 
 
 Now Stanley's knowledge of this science was extremely superficial. 
 He had, indeed, been enlightened by Sir William to a certain extent : 
 he had had his eyes sufficiently opened to see his way with perfect 
 distinctness into a bole, but by no means sufficiently opened to see his 
 way out again ; which, when an individual is to be fleeced, is a far 
 more ingenious mode of procedure than that of making him believo 
 that he ia quite in the dark ; because, in that case, he feels his way 
 so carefully that the odds are decidedly against your being able to 
 get him in at all : whereas, one who has been half enlightened on the 
 subject, believes that he knows all about it, and enters into the thing 
 with all the confidence in nature. This was precisely the case with 
 Stanley. He had before no conception that so much money was to 
 be won with so much ease, and, therefore, bet to the extent of some 
 thousands, and would have bet more, but Sir William, who was far 
 too ingenious to frighten him, in limine, not only closed his book, 
 but resolved, for the look of the thing, to induce him to hedge down 
 at Epsom with one of those purely sporting men who are always to 
 be found in the ring, in order that what he might actually lose he 
 might nominally cover. 
 
 Well, all the preliminaries having been arranged after the most 
 
120 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 approved fashion, Stanley, Amelia, and Sir William, on the morning 
 of the great Derby day, proceeded to the residence of the widow, who 
 had prepared a sumptuous breakfast, and sundry hampers contain- 
 ing champagne, sherry, chickens, tongues, pigeon-pies, cakes, and a 
 variety of other little articles, designed for demolition on the course. 
 They were all in high spirits. Their pleasure, perhaps, sprang from 
 various sources ; but they were all, nevertheless, on most exalted 
 terms as well with each other as with themselves ; and as Sir 
 William had suggested the expediency of starting early, at nine 
 o'clock precisely the carriage was announced, and looked when the 
 party had taken their seats, and the servants, in naming liveries, 
 were on the box, and the postboys were mounted, duly embellished 
 with satin jackets of the brightest celestial blue rather distingue 
 than not. 
 
 It was a hazy morning, and the atmosphere was like a hot bath ; 
 but even in those which are usually the most quiet streets, the car- 
 riages were rattling up to the doors, and the servants were bringing 
 out the hampers, and all seemed to be in one universal bustle. It is 
 not, however, until they reach the point at which the carriages from 
 all parts of the metropolis meet, that the unsophisticated are ab!e 
 to form a correct conception of the varied characteristics of the 
 equipages that are to accompany them down the road. Here Stanley 
 and the widow, neither of whom had been down before, were amazed. 
 There was nothing in the shape of a vehicle which had not had its 
 wheels greased expressly for the occasion ; nothing in the similitude 
 of a horse, at all likely to do the six-and-thirty miles in twenty 
 hours without giving up the ghost, which had not received an extra 
 severe curry- combing, together with an additional feed of corn, with 
 the view of imparting respectability and spirit to his appearance on 
 that auspicious day. Such, then, being the generally joyful state of 
 things, of course plenty of amusement was to be found ; and, as 
 Stanley and Sir William made highly characteristic observations 
 upon every vehicle, and every creature in every vehicle, of a remark- 
 able character, they were all very merry, and laughed very heartily, 
 and seemed to be the happiest of the happy. 
 
 " Now," said Sir William, as they entered the lane which leads 
 from the town of Epsom to the Downs, " you may all go to sleep for 
 half-an-hour, for this is the most ted : ous part of the journey." 
 
 They were not, however, disposed to go to sleep, although the line 
 moved but slowly along ; for as it did move at a pace, the consolation 
 was conspicuous, and, on arriving at the top, the brilliant appearance 
 of the Downs well repaid them for whatever tedium they might have 
 experienced. 
 
 "Oh, what a lovely scene!" exclaimed the widow, directing 
 Amelia's attention towards the hill. "Well, really now, this is 
 enchanting ! Sir William, have we to go to that beautiful spot ?" 
 
 " As you please," replied the Baronet ; " but I think that we had 
 better get near the grand stand, where the horses will pass quite 
 close to us." 
 
 " That will be delighful ! Oh ! will it not, my love ?' 
 
 Amelia assented, and directions were given to get as near the 
 
STANLEY T1IOIIN". 1-L 
 
 grand stand as possible, on a line with the course. On entoring the 
 enclosure, they were all highly pleased with the scene which burst 
 upon them; but the widow oh! she was in ectasies ! Siie ha 1 
 never, she was sure she had never in the whole course of her life 
 beheld anything so heavenly ! every thing did look so gay, so delight- 
 ful, so glorious! And then the grand stand! Writ, really bho 
 never did ! oh ! nothing could surpass it ! 
 
 No sooner had they taken their stations than Bob duly nppeare 1 
 with the hordes, which, when Stanley and Sir "William, at the earnest, 
 solicitation of the widow, had taken some .refreshment, they mounted, 
 and rode to the wood. 
 
 Stanley was a very fair judge of a hor-e. and when all that wore 
 to start were brought out, OLe of the outtiJera appeared to him to 
 have been betted against rather too heavily. He therefore re- 
 examined his book, ar.d the result of that re-examination was, that 
 he did not much like his position. Nor did B )b much like hi* ; f .r, 
 by virtue of making cross-bets, w ith the view of hedging, he had got 
 into an extraordinary arithmetical inaz;, having made divers gross and 
 disgraceful mistakes, by recording in his favour a variety of bets*, 
 which were in reality against him. He was therefore, highly pleased 
 when Stanley returned, which he did as soon as possible, in ordtT to 
 back his own judgment ; and having entered the ring, he almost im- 
 mediately got into conversation with Major Foxe, who pompously pro- 
 nounced himself open to take the three first horses against the field 
 for an even thousand. This was precisely what Stanley wanted, and 
 he took the bet at once, and they formally exchanged cards, and then 
 made several other bets, which brought Stanley home pretty safely, 
 very much to the delight of Sir William, whom he consulted, arid 
 with whom, on the s'rength of the Major's bets, he increased his 
 liabilities, and having closed his book, iuvited the Major to join them. 
 
 While S anley was in the ring, thu* bringing himself nominally 
 round, Bob, with unparalleled zeal and intensity of feeling, was 
 studying the nature of his position, as strikingly manife?ted by his 
 book, and found eventually the evidence it imparied to be of a nature 
 S3 particularly conflicting, that he all at once became so enlightened, 
 that he perceived with amazing distinctness that he couldn't under- 
 stand it at all. He tried hard, n-iy, he tried with desperation, to com- 
 p eh end t!ie bearings of his hieroglyphical conceptions ; but the 
 more desperately he tried, the more profoundly he studied, the more 
 acutely and cunningly he reckoned, the more chaotic his intellectual 
 faculties became, which was, to his extremely sensitive feeling- 3 , 
 indeed, truly terrible. At lengt'i he confidentially intimated to the 
 widow's coachman, who wcs, at that exciting period, upon th-j box, 
 that he was ardently anxious to have the bent lit of his advice upon a 
 su jrct of no inconsiderable importance ; and the coachman, who had 
 acquired the reputation of being rather a far-seeing individual, 
 accordingly descended to consult him. 
 
 " Coachman," said he, with due solemnity of aspect, " did you see 
 that brio die in the course there, just now, which cocked his blessed 
 tail mvsteri )us at \ve< n his legs, and cut away back'ards and forrarde, 
 acause h^ couldn't tell at all ho-.v to get out?" 
 1G 
 
122 STANLEY THOBJf. 
 
 " In course," replied the coachman, " I did/* 
 
 " "Well, then, I'm just in that identical speeches of mess. There's 
 lot's of ways to get out ; but I know no more how than that briudle, 
 which makes it just as bad as if there wasn't." 
 
 " Werry good ; but if you'll just convert that into reg'lar English, 
 I shall be able to understand it, perhaps." 
 
 " Why, don't you see !" exclaimed Bob, disgusted with the ex- 
 treme dulness of the fellow's perception. "Don't I tell you I'm in a 
 blessed mess here, and want you to show me how to see my way 
 out on it ! Do you know anything at all about betting ?" 
 
 " AVhy it strikes me I do, as well as here and there one." 
 
 " Then cast your invincibles over this book." Here Bob pointed 
 out his hieroglyphics. " Them means brandy-and-water them rum- 
 and-water them fourpenn'orths them ale and them there, wheie 
 two ha'pences is, means, of course, half-and-half. Now, just look 
 deliberate over that, and theu tell me exact how I stand. There's a 
 trump !" 
 
 The coachman took the book, and studied the state of things 
 intently, while Bob, with much earnestness, watched his emotions. 
 At length, with great gravity, he spoke to this effect: 
 
 " I say, though, my buffer, wort have you been at ! You're the 
 boy to make money by bettin' !" 
 
 ""What's the matter?" cried Bob, who felt really alarmed. 
 
 "Wort's the matter! Look here! You've jusfc managed it 
 dexterous so, that, if that 'ere oss don't win, you lose pretty nigh all 
 the lot ; and even if he does win, you don't win a Fcrew." 
 
 11 Why, how do you make thathout ?" demanded Bob, indignantly. 
 
 "How do I make it out! Why, look here look at them there 
 brandies -an' -water why, they're hevery indiwidual one on 'em agin 
 you!" 
 
 " How do you mean ? Haven't I taktn seven to two, four or five 
 times over ?" 
 
 " I know you have; but haven't you hedged off there by giving 
 four to one on the same oss, four or five times over ? Don't you see ! 
 As far as the fourpenn'orths goes, it don't matter which wins ; it's 
 like giving two fardens for a ha'penny ; but you're in for the brandy- 
 and-water, and you're in for the ale, and 3 ou're in for the whole mob 
 of arf-and-arf." 
 
 Bob stood for a moment as if petrified. The spirit of incredulity 
 took possession of him at first, and caused him to have a most pro- 
 found contempt for his friend's calculating faculty, albeit he did 
 strongly feel that there was a horr.ble hitch somewhere ; but wh-.'n 
 it had been pointed out to him distinctly how the various gross mis- 
 takes had been made, he perspired with great freedom, and looked 
 dreao fully cut up. 
 
 " Well," said he, scratching his head, with unexampled perse- 
 verance, " I'm a donkey I know it I know I'm a donkey, and so 
 
 don't want to be told. As the French says, this is a out-and-out 
 case of horse de combat. You are right oh! I see regular plain 
 that you are right. If the favourite don't do the trick, perhaps I 
 shan't be in a pk-kle ! and the favourite 'a no favourite of mine." 
 
STANLEY THORN. 123 
 
 " You've seed the osses all on 'em, haven't yer ? Is there any one 
 your particular fancy ?" 
 
 "Why, yes, there 's a Kttle un there; but there's fifty to one 
 against him, so he can't be no sort, though he looks as if he might be." 
 
 " Now, take my adwice : you go and get all the hods you enn agin 
 the field. Never mind any oss, take the field. That 's the only way 
 to perwent you losing all the whole squaddy." 
 
 " I see ! I see ! Here, catch hold a minute. I won't be gone 
 long, I know where to find a few trumps as gives odds. But may 
 I be smothered !" 
 
 Swelling with indignation at his dense stupidity, and cherishing a 
 bright and most beautiful hope, Bob started with the view of honour- 
 ably taking in some gentleman whom he had the felicity to number 
 among his friends. The news, however, had spread that the field 
 was sure to win ; all wished to take the very odds that he wished to 
 take. In vain he endeavoured to inspire them with the belief that they 
 thereby stood in their own light : they wouldn't have it: they pro- 
 nounced it simultaneously "no go." Thus foiled, thus deceived, 
 and that, too, in a quarter in which he had reposed the utmost con- 
 fidence, and in which he had centred every hope, his heart e:ink 
 within him as he returned to communicate the melancholy fact to 
 his friend. It was then that he felt that he was in the hands of fate, 
 it was then that he promised, that if in this, his extremity, fate 
 would but be propitious, no power on earth should ever induee him 
 to be so consummate a donkey again. And yet why who could 
 tell ? The favourite ! the favourite was a good horse, a capital 
 horse ! He didn't like the look of him much, but he might win, he 
 ought to win, nay, on reflection, he would win. He resolved to 
 entertain no doubt about the matter, for every doubt was painful. 
 Hurrah for the favourite ! Tne favourite against the field ! The 
 favourite for a thousand ! The favourite for ever ! He was not 
 going then to lie do an in a ditch and die ! 
 
 The bell rang, and all were on the qui mve. The most earnest 
 anxiety prevailed. The next two minutes were to decide that in 
 which all seemed interested deeply. Had every man present had 
 all he possessed in the world then at stake, his suspense at that 
 moment could not have appeared more painful. The horses started. 
 " They are oft'! they are off!" shouted thousands simultaneously, and 
 every eye was strained in the direction of the hill. They appeared ! 
 They swept the brow with the speed of lightning ! They passed the 
 corner ! they came straight up the cjurse ! Pink was a-head. 
 "Pink! pink! Bravo, pink! Yellow! yellow! Go along, pink! 
 Blue ! Green ! Red !" nay, every colour in the rainbow was 
 shouted, in order to urge each along. The post was gained Two 
 seemed neck and neck. Few at the moment could tell which had 
 won ; but as one of the two was the favourite, Bob shouted, " The 
 favourite ! the favourite ! Oh ! hollow !" And he leaped like a deer 
 from the back of the carriage, and opened his shoulders, and rubbed 
 his hands, and patted his horses, and slapped his thigh, and th.ew 
 himself at once into a state of ecstasy the most delicious. The next 
 mon.enfr a sound reached kis ear, a sound which made hfm tremble] 
 
12 i STANLEY TUOKN". 
 
 He turned towards the winning-post, and there lie beheld the 
 number of an outsider! The favourite had lest! Instantly his 
 countenance fell. He slapped his thigh no more. He struck 
 Marmion on the nose for presuming to snort at such a moment, con- 
 ceiving it to be in the abstract highly reprehensible, and sank into 
 an awful state of melancholic gloom. 
 
 Sir "William, of course, was delighted, but he studied to conceal his 
 delight at the time ; while Stanley, who had brought himself pretty 
 nearly home, having won all his bets with the Major, congratulated 
 himself on having backed his own judgment. The Major did not 
 appear to be much depressed. He was a loser, he said, it was true, 
 but not to any great amount, having taken a variety of other bets, 
 which had been decided in his favour. He held it, therefore, to be 
 a matter of no material importance ; and, having politely declined 
 the pressing invitation of Stanley to partake of their refreshments, 
 he begged that he might have the honour of a call at the United 
 Service Club in the morning, as on settling driy the probability was 
 that he should have to leave town. 
 
 The widow, who playfully aifected to be very inclignant indeed 
 with that tiresome thing of a horse, which had been the cause of her 
 losing a dozen pair of gloves to Amelia, now ordered the hampers to 
 be opened, and when the leaf of a table had been adjusted upon the 
 doors of the carriage, it was speedily covered with the viands she had 
 prepared, and they all ate heartily, with the collateral enjoyment of 
 the scene around them, which was certainly one of great excitement 
 and splendour. 
 
 They had, however, no sooner commenced their repast than the 
 widow's benevolence was powerfully excited ; for a party of four 
 ladies and two gentlemen, who occupied the carriage next to her?, 
 had to their horror found, on their hamper being opened, that the 
 new rope by which it had been suspended from the axle, had stretched 
 to an extent that enabled the hamper in little hilly parts of the road 
 to come in contact with the ground with sufficient violence to break 
 to atoms the dishes, bottles, and glasses, and thereby to mix them 
 and the provisions together ; and truly to the eye it was a most un- 
 pleasing mixture, inasmuch as the pie-crust was saturated with wine, 
 the broken glass had worked i; s way into the chickens, the pigeons 
 with the gravy were mixed up with stout and straw, while the ham 
 had been made, by the fragments of the bottles, to appear as if it had 
 been nibbled by a legion of rats. 
 
 The widow, when she saw their distress, felt for them acutely, and 
 sent to beg their acceptance of one her pies, and part of her ham, 
 with a pair of her chickens, and so on. which they did not by any 
 means like to receive ; but, on being warmly pressed, they at length 
 consented to accept them, provided they were also presented with a 
 card, which proviso was agreed to, and all were made happy. 
 
 Immediately after their repast, Stanley and Sir William remounted 
 their horses, being anxious to make a few bets upon the next race ; 
 and, while they were gone, Bob, the widow's servants, and the post- 
 boys, commenced operations upon the refreshments which had been 
 left, and which, as the widow was exceedinfflv liberal with her wine, 
 

 # 
 
 L810 . 
 
STANLEY THOEX. 125 
 
 they all amazingly enjoyed, with the exception of Bob, who?e spirit 
 was painfully perturbed. He was haunted by his erroneous calcula- 
 tions, and spectres of innumerable glasses of brandy-and-water, and 
 rows of pots of ale and half-and-half, which really seemed to have no 
 end, flitted before him as merrily as if ihey were overjoyed at the 
 Jact of his having to pay for them all. The only question with him 
 v as, how could lie get out of his embarrassed position ? a^nd his 
 utter inability to conceive a satisfactory answer to this question dealt 
 destruction to his appetite, and rendered him wretched. At length 
 he managed to hit upon an expedient by which he might gain at least 
 a trifle towards cov^ ring his extremely heavy spirituous liabilities. 
 In the next race eight horses were to run, and he proposed a quiet 
 sweepstakes, in which he got the coachman, the footm:m, and one of 
 the postilions to join. He then tore a piece of paper into eight, and 
 having established the numbers respectively thereon, and folded and 
 put them into his hat, eac'i subscribed half-a-crown, and then drew 
 two numbers, and Bob's were the first and second hordes on the li<t. 
 
 " Well," thought he, " this is something." And so it was ; and 
 he began to eat a little, and to feel some what bet'er. llalf-a-sovfreiLjn 
 would indisputably pay for ten good shilling glasses. There could 
 be no miscalculation about that, although he quite forgot his own 
 small subscription, which perhaps was as well, for his mind was the 
 more at ease, and the consequence was, that he eventually made a 
 very highly respectable meal. 
 
 The bell rang again for the course to be cleared, and Stanley and 
 Sir William returned. 
 
 " Well, which is the best horse ?" inquired the widow. 
 
 " The favourite," replied Stanley, " 1 should say in this race." 
 
 " The favourite : well, Amelia and 1 aro going to have another 
 bet." 
 
 " Indeed," said Amelia, " I do not understand it." 
 
 ' Xor do I, my love, much ; but we mu>t have a bet. Now, I'll 
 b t you let me see a satin dress ! and you shall have which horse 
 \< n please." 
 
 niat will be about two to one," observed Stanley. 
 
 " No, no one to one ; that is to ?ay, even." 
 
 " But Amelia will bet two to one." 
 
 " Dear me, how ridiculous ! One dress one cannot be two !" 
 
 " I grant you that, of course ; but I should say that it takes nearly 
 double the quantity " 
 
 " Indeed, sir, it takes no such thing," interrupted the blushing 
 widow ; for although she patted Stanley very playfully, and smiled, 
 she did not approve of his making so incorrect an observation in the 
 presence of Sir William. It was personal very personal. Besides, 
 she required but a few yards more than Amelia ; not double the 
 quantity, nor anything Lke double the quantity. 
 
 " I'll tell you, now, what will be a fair bet," said Stanley. "You 
 take the favourite against the fl. Id for a dress : that will bring the 
 thing about even." 
 
 " Very well ; let it be so. The favourite is mine. We must spo.t, 
 my love, of course, like the rest." 
 
120 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 Amelia consented to this arrangement, and the race almost imme- 
 dia^ely commenced. The excitement was not nearly so great ; but 
 there was t-till amply sufficient to keep all alive, aud the colouis w^re 
 called as they passed as before. The tavourite lost, and Stanley lost 
 with the fa\ourite. The widow also lost ; and Bob lost the sweep- 
 stakes. 
 
 Of course the last mentioned loss had the greatest effect upon the 
 loser. He had firmly and resolutely made up his mind to win, and 
 hence experienced a dreadful degree of depression. He felt that, in 
 the nature of things, this was hard, and that fortune neither smiled 
 upon the most meritorious, nor aided those who stood most in need of 
 assistance. To him that half-sovereign w T ould have been of great 
 ser\ice. The rest did not want it so much ; for they had lost nothing 
 on the Derby. He considered that, if fortune had not been sand- 
 blind if she had on'y hilf an eye open, she would have seen this 
 and then, of course, the sweeps' ake.s had been his ; for he was suro 
 that, to his knowledge, he had done nothing to offend her. 
 
 "While involved in this deep consideration, s;anding like a statue, 
 with his hands in his smalls which indeed was his customary attitude 
 when he happened to have anything of a strictly metaphysical 
 character to compass a gentlem n without his coat approached in 
 wonderful haste, aud, while pert'Tining a variety of original antics, 
 commenced shouting, apparently in a Irightlul state of excit merit. 
 
 "Now, who's for the last nine, the last nm.% the la>t nine ! Pve 
 only three minuter A sovering i'or a shilling, or three for half-crown, 
 to deci-ie this here vunderiui vage-r atween them tleie two sveli 
 spoitin' indiwidgeal*, the Marqvis of Vortford and a honerble Hurl, 
 for five thousand guineas aside here! Tm obligated for to dress like 
 tliu here, cos tiie honerble Hurl don't believe as the people von't think 
 these here soveiings is good uns. Who 'II have the last nine, the last 
 nine, the last nine here !" 
 
 " This is a do," ob erved Bob to a decent-looking person standing 
 near him !" 
 
 " Do you think so ? I've a great mind to have three : it may be a 
 bet," said the peisoii addressed. " I'll have half-a-crown's worth.;" 
 aud he had, and he appeared to be delighted with his bargain, and 
 joyfully showed them to Bob, who v.as amazed. 
 
 " It is a wager," thought he. " Tiiey are good uns real good uns. 
 Why, three of these would set me all square !" It struck him at the 
 moment that fortune, to propitiate him, had suggested that bet, and 
 1 ad sent him that man. 
 
 "Now, who's for the last six! Tve on'y one minute for this vun- 
 derful vagear off ten thousand guineas. Who 'II have the last six for 
 a crown here !" 
 
 Bob anxiously gave him five shillings, and received in return the 
 fix u sovereigns," which he instantly found to be villanous bra?s. 
 But the fellow was off! he twisted into the crowd like an imp ; and, 
 as he who had prompted the purchase, by showing the three real 
 sovereigns, shot also away, it at once became evident to Bob that they 
 were conft derates. 
 
 ' Only just hold my horsep " said he to a man standing by ; and 
 
STANLEY THOLX. 127 
 
 he started off after them fiercely. But how vain was tie pursuit ! The 
 next moment they \vere lost to him for ever. 
 
 This was indeed a heavy blow. It was terrible to his already 
 wounded feelings. It was cruel. He could have cried; but l.e 
 repressed the rising extract of sorrow with indignation. 
 
 " To be such a out-and-out fo< 1!" he exclaimed, clenching his fists 
 very desperately, and looking very vicious, " when I ought to have 
 known that it was nothing but a do ; when my own common sense 
 ought to have told me that it was nothing but a regular dead take- 
 in ! Here's things!" he continued, holding the s vt reigns ag;un 
 before his wondering eyes. " Here's muck ! Here's a blessed five 
 shillings' worth ! Don't I wish I could ?ce that there varmint any- 
 where's about here ? Wouldn't I give him a L etle pepper ?" 
 
 Again Bob looked anxiously around ; but, as he could riot catch 
 even a glimpse of the ingenious gentleman in question, he returned 
 to his horses, f rightfully depressed. 
 
 " Hallo, my Bobby !" exclaimed the coachman /'anything pet r ckler 
 o'clock ?'' 
 
 "No, nothing of much odds," replied Bob ; who con-eived it to 
 be expedient to keep the sovereign job a secret, at lea.^t from that 
 particular quarter. 
 
 " "We're goin' for to 'ave another sveepstakes. Theie's on'y four 
 'osses. "Will yer join us ?" 
 
 " Oh, if you like. I'm Fafe to lose. Nobody never had such sweet 
 luck as me. But I'll be in it." 
 
 He accordingly put down his half-crown, nnd drew ; but he 
 scorned to look at the number. He would not know which horse he 
 had drawn until after the race, and therefore placed the paper care- 
 fully in his pocket, while he looked another way, lest his eves should 
 fall upon it by accident. He then had a glass of wice with the reft 
 beneath the foot-board ; but continued to be mournfully silent, 
 although he occasionally gave his horses for the slightest misbe- 
 haviour the most severe look they ever witnessed. 
 
 The interval between the races was in this case unusually short. 
 The course was no sooner c'ear than the tell rang again, and the 
 horses started. They did the half-mile in about half-a-minute, and 
 actually the very horse which won cleverly by a length, was the horse 
 which Bob bad drawn. In his view this alteied the general aspect 
 of things most materially ; for, albeit, it but restored him to the 
 position which he occupied at the conclus'on of the Derby, it was 
 abundantly manifest to him that his " luck" had really changed ; and 
 he brightened up signally, and chatted a little, and breathed upon 
 the four half-crowns, and deposited them promptly in the off-pocket 
 of h ; s smalls, with an air which denoted intense satisfaction. He 
 then proposed that the next sweepstakes shou'd be doubled. This, 
 however, was declined. The same sum was put down, and they 
 drew ; but Bob would not have looked at what he had drawn if any 
 man had offered him seven-and-tdxpence. He had not looked at the 
 last, and he had won. He naturally felt that there was a great deal 
 in that. 
 
 Amelia and the widow now alighted, with the view of promenading 
 
128 STANLEY Ti.'URN. 
 
 the course; and, as tins had been at the sole suggestion of Sir 
 William, it was specially appreciated by the widow, who scarcely 
 could tell how she did feel wbi'e walking for the first time in puhlio 
 with an honourable baronet. It were poor indeed to describe th; t 
 feeling as being that of pride. It was a higher, a purer, a more in- 
 tensely delicious feeling than that ; and she stepped so lightly, and 
 her plume waved so gracefully, while she felt so much ecstacy 
 sparkling in her eyes, that, as she tripped past Amelia, she really did 
 think that any absolute stranger would be puzzled to tell which of 
 the two looked the younger. 
 
 "While they were admiring the beauty of the Grand Stand, and 
 other prominent features of the gay scene around them, Bob, elated 
 with his success in the last sweepstakes, felt that, as fortune now 
 seemed disposed to favour him, he ought not to thwart her beneficent 
 inclinings, and therefore set off for one of the booths, in which the 
 merveille appeared to him to be played upon a very fair, stra'ght- 
 forward principle. He stood for some time and looked on, and saw 
 a gre.at deal of money won and paid without a murmur, from a heap 
 of half-crowns which stood by the side of an open cash-box, in which 
 there was a sufficient number of notes to bind up into a good-sizrd 
 volume, and a quantity of sovereigns, which seemed to be beyond 
 calculation. 
 
 Tlr's display o r wealth dazzled the eyes of B b ; and he resolved 
 to have a trial. He put a shilling upon the black; it came bl:.ck, 
 }>nd le took up two. He put a shilling upon the yellow: it came 
 yellow, and he took up nine. Could he presume to doubt that 
 fortune had deigned to smile upon him then ? He put two hnlf- 
 crowi.s upon the yellow, feeling that eight times that amount would 
 be particularly acceptable ; but it happened to come b'ack. He tried 
 again wiih five shillings: it was red. He tried five shillings more: 
 it was blue. Well, it surely must come yellow next ! He tried 
 another five shillings : it came blue again. Blue was the '"avourite ; 
 but then five shilling stakes were rather heavy! He put half-u- 
 crown upon the blue : it was yellow. Tut, if he had but b j pt to the 
 yellow ! He tried yellow again : it was black. Then again, and it 
 was black : and again, until he had no more silver. What, then, was 
 to be done? Should he change his last sovereign? He would, a-id 
 stake five shillings of it upon the yellow. He did so. It should be 
 the last if he lost the very la^t that he had made up his mind to. 
 The ball was oft': he watched it eagerly : it seemed to w r ish to go 
 into the yellow: nay, it absolutely did go into the yellow; but on 
 the instant changed its n-ind, and hopped into the blue. How extra- 
 ordinary ! Well ! should he stake one more half-crown ? No, he 
 wouldn't ; and yet, eight half-crowns were twenty shillings ! One 
 more only one : down it went ; and the ball, as if guided by some 
 iralicious demon, popped again into the blue. Bob pre St-J his lips, 
 and frowned, and looked round the booth wildly, and then attempted 
 to leave ; but he felt within him something which urged him to turn, 
 and he stood for some time in a state of irresolution. 
 
 "Now, jjents, make your game: the b.ills off, make your game !" 
 cried the fellow who presided at the table. "If you won't pLiy, 
 
STANLEY THORN. 129 
 
 gents, drink: sherry, champagne there, soda-water, anything you 
 like. Make your game !" 
 
 This had the effect of arousing Bob from his reverie. He resolved 
 to stake five shillings more. He put half-a-crown down upon the 
 yellow : it was red. The other half-crown followed : it was black. 
 He now seemed desperate. He tried the black, and won ; but the 
 black merely covered the stake. He tried the yellow, and it was 
 blue ; and then the blue, and it was yellow. Five shillings only had 
 he left. Should he stake it all at once, hit or miss ? Down it went j 
 and in an instant it was lost. 
 
 His feelings were agonizing now. He, indeed, felt as if it reall v 
 mattered not much what became of him. His eyes seemed as if 
 about to start from their sockets. He struck his head with violence ; 
 and, as he left the booth slowly, he could not refrain from shedding 
 tears. The greatest trouble physics all the rest. His previous losses 
 now seemed as nothing. He might have got over them with com- 
 fort ; but how was he to get over this ? All the money he had was 
 gone, including that which he had borrowed of the amiable cook, and 
 he had the whole of his wet bets to settle, and promptly, too, in order 
 to sustain his reputation ! 
 
 While lost in the thought of this his afflicting position, he en- 
 countered a creature who had a table, with twenty or thirty 
 sovereigns thereon, and three thimbles, surrounded by divers indi- 
 viduals, who were betting upon the wonderful discovery of a pea. 
 Bob had frequently heard of this game ; he well knew it to be a dirty 
 and disreputable swindle ; and yet the thing appeared to be so simple, 
 while the creature who presided seemed so bungling, and, moreover, 
 so excessively blind to his own interest, that in more than one 
 instance would he have put down a stake had his pockets not been 
 quite so hungry as they were. He could tell where the pea was, 
 beyond all dispute. It was proved that he could, for a gentleman 
 who stood beside him, and who had not sufficient confidence in his 
 own judgment, asked him which thimble he thought the pea was 
 under; and, having pointed out one, the gentleman threw down a 
 sovereign ; and under that identical thimble it was ; and, when the 
 pea was again adjusted, and the gentleman had again appealed to him, 
 another sovereign was staked, and he was, of course, right again. 
 
 Bob, however, was very much vexed at this. Two sovereigns hal 
 been won through his instrumentality ; and, although it was all very 
 well to win money for others, he naturally thought that it would 
 have been better had he won those two sovereigns for himself: which 
 he might have done of course! there could not be two decent 
 opinions about that ; and, therefore, feeling that the fellow was 
 essentially stupid, or, at all events, nob quite au fait to the trick, ho 
 ran to borrow half-a-sovereigu of the coachman, and returned to the 
 table, full of hope. The gentleman who had successfully appealed 
 to him was still betting ; and when he lost, he appeared to lose most 
 foolishly, seeing that he invariably fixed on the thimble under which 
 Bob w r as sure the pea was not. He therefore applied at Bob again ; 
 and Bob again pointed to the right one, and was complimented 
 highly upon the extrardinary quickness of his preemption; and then 
 
130 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 it was he tried for himself. He saw the pea distinctly placed under 
 the thimble in the middle ; he could have sworn to it conscientiously. 
 
 " Til bet half-a-f overeign," said he, producing his all. 
 
 " Bet a sovereign," cried the creature. " Put a sovereign dowo. 
 I don't mind about losing a sovereign !" 
 
 " No ; only half," said Bob. " Don't touch it." 
 
 Very well. The money was placed upon the table, and covered: 
 the thimble was raised, and the pea was not there ! 
 
 Bob looked at the fellow with great ferocity. He also looked 
 ferociously at the man who had urged him on. He half suspected 
 him of being a confederate; and had he been sure of it quite sure 
 with all the pleasure in life would he have thrashed hiru ; but he 
 was not ; and therefore, all he felt justified in doing was to give free 
 vent to his indignation, which he did in terms which he deemed ap- 
 propriate ; and having consigned the whole gang to the torture of 
 their own consciences, left them with a feeling of unspeakable 
 disgust. 
 
 " Well," said ho, as he returned with a truly wretched aspect, 
 " there's another half-sovereign out of me. What is this world when 
 you come for to look at it ? What is it but an out-and-out den of 
 blessed thieves ? Fortune ! blow Fortune ! what do I owe her ? 
 Aint she been against me all along ? Did ever any fellow have such 
 pleasant luck as I've had ? I'm a fool of course I know that I'm 
 a fool, 'cause I was quite conscientious that the pea dodge was a do. 
 Who's to blame then ? Don't it just serve me right ? Is there any 
 pity for me ? Not a ha'p'orth." 
 
 This last observation was made by way of solace ; but the com- 
 fort it imparted was not strikingly apparent. He still held that he 
 had been cruelly ill used, and hence became more dreadfully dejected 
 than before. 
 
 All were now becoming anxious for the last race, save Bob. He 
 really cared but little about whether he won or lost. He was in that 
 frame of mind, the indulgence of which is extremely illaudable, and 
 highly pernicious, inasmuch as it reduces a man at once to that point 
 of despair which prompts h'm to repudiate the employment of the 
 power at his command, with the view of surmounting those embarrass- 
 ments in which he may be involved. This is indeed a disease a 
 most ruinous disease, and one for which the only immediate cure is a 
 little unexpected success. Then he, who was gloomily apathetic 
 becomes active : his dormnat energies are roused : he sees his error, 
 and gladly embraces those means to which he before closed his eyes, 
 and that wilfully being conscious of their existence. The bell rang, 
 and the race commenced. He took no interest in it. When it was 
 over, he just glanced at the paper carelessly. Why he had drawn 
 the very horse ! He could uot have supposed it possible. Ha had 
 though. t that nothing in life was more certain than that every earthly 
 thing was going against him. On receiving the sweepstakes, he 
 therefore felt his heart lighter, and his spirits rising rapidly ; and, 
 when Sir William, to whom he had been particularly attentive, pre- 
 sented him with a sovereign, he really began to believe that his case 
 was not nearly so desperate as he had imagined. Still it could not be 
 
STANLEY TirOES. 131 
 
 concealed that he had lost a heavy sura ; and he was just on the point 
 of entering into an abstruse calculation touching the total amount, 
 when Stanley called to him and gave him instructions to take the 
 horses quietly home. 
 
 The posters were then immediately put to, and in five minutes the 
 widow's carriage moved off the Downs. Bob lingered : he scarcely 
 knew why ; still he lingered ; and, as he was standing thoughtfully 
 between his horses, a friend of his approached, and informed him 
 that he had that very instant won seven half-crowns at a " gold and 
 silver table," to which he pointed, and which stood but a few yards 
 from the spot. On receiving this momentous intelligence, B )b 
 looked at his friend, as if to be sure that he was totally unconnected 
 with the scheme, being inclined at the moment to make every man 
 an object of suspicion, and, having satisfied himself on that particular 
 point, he got a boy to hold his horses, and repaired to the table in 
 question without delay. At this establishment a gaudily-dressed 
 female presided ; and, although she was not extremely beautiful, the 
 purity of her complexion, such as it was, was duly protected from 
 the sun by a comprehensive umbrella. She stood in a commanding 
 position, upon a stool, with a rake in one hand, and a white-cotton 
 cabbage-net, nearly filled with silver in the other, while on the table, 
 which was emblazoned with all sorts of brilliant prizes, stood a dice- 
 box of a Brobdignagian build, and divers large and of course, un- 
 loaded, dice ; and ever anon she screamed, in tones which bore an 
 ear-p : erciog resemblance to those of a cracked clarionet in the hands 
 of a man who knows no touch thereof, " Now, who's for the next 
 prize ! A shillin' a throw, or three throws for arf-a-crown. I'll 
 warrant all the prizes to be on the dice. The extent of your losses 
 you're sure to know : the extent of your winnin's you can't. When 
 I lose, my loses is heavy : when you lose your losses is light !" 
 
 "Well," thought Bob, "it's quite out of nature to be much of 
 rig in this. I only want to win a pound ! I'll Jiave a try. See if I 
 don't. It will be very hard if I can't get something ! 
 
 He accordingly subscribed a half-a-crown to the concern, and 
 having placed the dice in the box, boldly threw them, when the lady 
 began to count with surpassing velocity, " Six and six is twelve, and 
 four's nineteen, and five's twenty-seven, and three's thirty-four, and 
 one's forty-five, and four's fifty-two, and five's fifty-nine, and three's 
 sixty-five, and four and four's eight, and six is seventy-two ! Sixty- 
 two is a prize of five crowns ; but seventy-two's is a blank, as you see." 
 
 Bob certainly saw that seventy-two was a blank ; but he did not 
 exactly approve of this rapid mode of counting. He had not been 
 at all used to it ; he couldn't keep up with it ; and, as he did enter- 
 tain a vague notion that she had in one instance made a slight mistake, 
 he determined on counting them himself the next time, and threw 
 again : and again the lady's tongue went to work, like the clapper of 
 an alarum-bell, and wouldn't stop until she had reached sixty, which, 
 of course, was a blank. Bob, however was not satisfied. He began 
 to count \imself ; but, as he proceeded, the lady joined him, being 
 anxious to render him all possible assistance, which so effectually 
 .confused his intellects that he found himself utterly unable to count 
 
132 STANLEY TIIOEK. 
 
 at all. Assuming, therefore, on compulsion, that she waa right, he 
 threw the third time, and threw forty-eight, which the experienced 
 eye of the lady soon detected, and she ingeniously made fifty-six of 
 them, in consequence of forty-eight being a prize of three sovereigns. 
 But Bob could not make fifty-six : he insisted upon having time ; 
 when the lady leered affectionately at two gentlemen, who were 
 standing by, and who, as they perceived that Bob was going on 
 steadily, made a sudden slight, but, of course, purely accidental rush ; 
 and, while one of them was making all sorts of apologies, the other 
 dexterously turned over one of the dice ; which the lady no sooner 
 perceived than she exclaimed with great propriety, " What's all this 
 about ? What do you interrupt the gentleman for when he's a-count- 
 ing ? You ought to know better. Go on, sir ; pray do ; and take 
 your time about it." 
 
 Bob accordingly counted them again, and then said, 
 
 " There, I knew you was wrong : there's only fifty." 
 
 "Very well, sir. I'll take your word for it. We're all on us 
 liable to error ; human nature can't be perfect. Whatever prize it 
 is, you shall have, sir. Eifty. Only two too many, sir. Try again : 
 don't be down-hearted. Forty-eight's a prize of three pound, fifty, 
 you see, is a blank." 
 
 "Why, it was forty-eight," said Bob's friend, "before that man 
 there made a two a four !" 
 
 In an instant the hat of the individual who had thus spoken mys- 
 teriously dropped over his eyes. It was not at all too large for him ; 
 on the contrary, it was rather a tight fit ; but the brim on either side, 
 nevertheless, did come down upon his shoulders, as if by magic. 
 Bob in a moment saw how the case stood ; and, being anxious for his 
 friend to appear to give evidence, flew to his aid ; but he had no 
 sooner done so than his own hat went down in the most remarkable 
 manner. 
 
 Now it is extremely difficult, under these peculiar circumstances, 
 for a man to face the world. He cannot raise his hat with either 
 promptitude or comfort. Should he happen to have anything at all 
 of a nose, the tip thereo is certain to catch in the lining. To the 
 ancient Romans this would have been abundantly manifest ; and, 
 probably, the children of Israel of this our day wear gossamers with- 
 out any lining at all on this very account. And none can blame 
 them. The position is excessively disagreeable. A man is extinguished. 
 The light of his countenance is gone. He looks like a decapitated 
 individual, feeling in his heart for the thoughts in his head. 
 
 By dint of some extraordinary and perfectly original wriggling, Bob 
 evidently managed to appear ; and when he did so, he shook himself, 
 and looked round fiercely ; but the gentleman whom he had calculated 
 upon seeing had vanished ; and it was, indeed, fortunate for them 
 that they had ; for it may with perfect safety be recorded that, could 
 he have grappled with them then, the irregularity of the features of 
 one of them at least, would have been truly conspicuous. 
 
 In vain the lady declared that no die had been turned ; in vain she 
 pledged her honour that she never beheld those two gentlemen before 
 in the whole course of my life. Bob would not believe her ; and he 
 
STANLEY THORN. 133 
 
 told her so flatly, and rated her well, and put it plainly and dis- 
 tinctly to her whether she ought not to be ashamed of her conduct ; 
 which seemed to touch her rather, for she instantly observed that, as 
 he was not exactly satisfied, she would consent to his having another 
 throw gratis. 
 
 " Another throw !" cried Bob, with an expression of scorn ; and 
 he really was very much disgusted with her behavour. I'll not have 
 another throw ! I'll have nothing more to do with you. Now I 
 know what you are, if I was to go for to win the smallest mite of 
 your money I should think myself poisoned I" 
 
 And, hereupon, he quitted the spot with his friend. 
 
 He now clearly saw that the man who, being pecuniarily involved, 
 seeks to retrieve himself by gambling is a fool ; and, having made an 
 exceedingly laudable resolution to profit by the experience he had 
 purchased that day, he proceeded towards town, deeply buried in 
 reflection, for how the cook was to be paid, and how his heavy half- 
 and-half, ale, and brandy-and- water losses were to be settled, were 
 mysteries which had still to be solved. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 DESCEIBES THE PERFORMANCE OF A PHAETONIC FEAT, WHICH 
 BRINGS BOB INTO TEMPORARY TROUBLE. 
 
 AT the appointed hour the following morning, Stanley called upon 
 Sir William, with a view to an arrangement of their books, and the 
 result proved that Stanley had lost to Sir "William about four 
 thousand pounds, and had won of Major Foxe two thousand eight 
 hundred. This to Stanley was a most unsatisfactory result. He, of 
 course, knew before that he had lost ; but he had certainly no idea 
 of being a loser to the extent of twelve hundred pounds. He, how- 
 ever, appeared to care as little as possible about it ; and when the 
 honourable Baronet expressed his sorrow at having won so much of 
 him, he entreated him not to feel at all annoyed at that circumstance, 
 which was perfectly supererogatory, and begged of him to accompany 
 him at once to the United Service, in order to assist in the settlement 
 with Major Foxe. To this Sir William politely consented, and they 
 repaired to the United Service, and inquired for Major Foxe of the 
 porter. Major Foxe ! Why, of course, he was not there ! Of 
 course they knew nothing of him ! of course he did not, and never 
 did, belong to the Club ! 
 
 " Why, surely the fellow could not have assumed that name to 
 deceive us !" cried Stanley. 
 
 " He certainly said the United Service," observed Sir William, 
 who affected to be greatly surprised. " Is it possible, think you, 
 that he meant the Junior United Service ?" 
 
134 STANLEY THOU*. 
 
 " Oh, very likely ! I thought he could not be quite so barefaced a 
 scamp !" 
 
 They then went to the Junior Club ; lie was not known there. 
 They examined the Army List minutely ; he was not to be found. 
 In short, there was no Major Foxe in the service. 
 
 On making this discovery, Stanley said indeed but little; but -Sir 
 William, who had had just as lively an anticipation of the event as if 
 he had actually been a confederate of the Major, denounced him with 
 unexampled energy. He was a scoundrel, a blackleg, a villain, a 
 swindler ! he was everything, in fact, but an honourable man. 
 Stanley, however, still kept silent; and on returning to the Albany, 
 left the indignant Baronet, having engaged to dine with him at seven. 
 
 Four thousand pounds! It was a large sum for him to Jose, and 
 that in one day ! But the money must be paid : whether Major 
 Foxe were or were not to be found, Sir William must have the 
 amount he had won ; and, being impressed with the necessity for au 
 immediate settlement, Stanley proceeded to the house of the widow, 
 whom he found in a pleasing reverie, recounting the delights she had 
 experienced the preceding day. 
 
 "Mother," said he, after the customary greeting, "you must let 
 me have some money." 
 
 " Very well, my love. Let me see, you had a cheque when ? 
 However, you have not spent it unnecessarily, I dare say ; but if I 
 give you another now, you must make it last a very long time ; for 
 you know we have both been extravagant of late. 
 
 " I am sorry," said Stanley, " to require so much at once ; but I 
 must have, mother, four thousand pounds." 
 
 " Four thousand ! Why four good gracious ! my dear, what on 
 earth can you want such a sum f >r ?" 
 
 "To pay a debt of honour," replied Stanley, with great calmness. 
 
 " What, did you lose four thousand pounds at the races ? My 
 dearest boy, to whom !" 
 
 " To Sir William," said Stanley, and the countenance of the widow 
 instantly changed. 
 
 Had it been lost to any one else, of course the thing would have 
 been very different indeed ; but as it was, why, what her in judgment 
 did it amount to ! It would be still in the family ! It was not like 
 an actual loss it was only like taking money out of the right pocket, 
 and putting it into the left. This she felt, and hence her reply was, 
 that certainly the money must be paid. 
 
 " But," she added, " how come you, my dear boy, to bet to such an 
 extent ? For goodness' sake, never bet again so largely. We shall 
 be ruined we shall indeed, if you continue to go on so. But I 
 thought, my love, you won of Major what's his name ? Foxe ay, 
 Major Foxe t ?" 
 
 " So I did. I won two thousand eight hundred pounds of him, 
 and lost four thousand to Sir William." 
 
 " Oh ! the case is not so desperate ! Then, if I give you twelve 
 hundred pounds, that will do to settle all?" 
 
 , " Is Sir William to wait till I get the" money of the Major ? Is he 
 to suppose that I cannot pay him uutil the Major pays me ?'* 
 
STANLEY THORN. 135 
 
 " Not for the world ! No he must be paid at once." 
 
 " Of course ; and when the Major settles with me, I'll hand the 
 amount over to you." 
 
 "Exactly. That will be perfectly correct and straightforward. 
 But I have not so much at the banker's. Let me see how can it be 
 managed ? When do you meet Sir William again ? 
 
 " I have promised to dine with him to-day." 
 
 " Dear me ! Then I must run away at once to the city. I'll be 
 back by four o'clock. Call then, aud you shall have it." 
 
 " Very well. But there is one thing you must promise me, mother, 
 and that is, that you will not name this to Amelia. It can do no 
 good, and may make her unhappy, and I am. sure you have no desire 
 do that." 
 
 " Certainly not. But you must promise me that you'll never, 
 never bet so much again." 
 
 " I'll promise never to lose so much again, if I can possibly avoid 
 it. But recollect, not a syllable to Amelia." 
 
 The widow assured him that she would not say a word, and they 
 parted, and with an equal amount of satisfaction ; for it must, in 
 strict justice to the widow, be confessed that, while Stanley was 
 pleased that he had got over it so well, she rejoiced in the opportunity 
 of convincing Sir William that there was really about her something 
 pecuniarily substantial an opportunity which she would not have 
 failed to embrace for five times the amount. She, therefore, went 
 into the city with rather a light heart ; although she did think that 
 Stanley ought not to suppose that he was at liberty to launch iuto 
 any extravagancies he pleased. 
 
 When Stanley was at home, waiting rather impatiently for the 
 hour of four, Bub was occupied in baring his breast to Joanna, the 
 gentle and affectionate cook. He conceived it, and very correctly, to 
 be more regular and honourable to explain to her clearly the position 
 in which he stood, not alone because she was his principal creditor, 
 but because she had invariably treated him with great kindness, 
 which he could not but feel, inasmuch as he deemed herself in duty 
 bound to tyrannize over, if not, indeed, to trample upon, the rest of 
 the servants, in order that the contrasts might be rendered thereby 
 the more striking. He therefore confided to her, at once, the chief 
 features of his melancholy case ; and when all had been explained, he 
 observed with much feeling. 
 
 " Now, the bottom of it is, cook, I owe you two pound. I can pay 
 
 exactly. 
 
 see, to ask master to advance. I don't like it it don't agree with 
 my disgestion. It's a delicate thing, and looks rotten ; consequentially, 
 the point in embryo amounts to this do you want this here two 
 pound, you know, before my quarter's up r 1 " 
 
 " By no manner of means," replied the gentle Joanna. " But why 
 call me cook ? You know I don't mind you,, Eobert, although I don't 
 choose to condescend to suffer the rest to come any familiarities. 
 But, in regard of this money, I request you'll not name it. If you 
 
136 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 was in wants of twenty times as much, I've got so much confidence 
 in somebody, that I don't think that somebody, would be very long 
 without it. But how much do you say all these losing will come 
 to?" 
 
 " "Why, I think three pound ten will about settle the lot. 
 
 " And you've only two pound ?" 
 
 " Oh, but I can easy borrow the rest of old misseses coachman." 
 
 "Borrow of nobody, Eobert, but me. Don't have too many 
 creditors ; don't let too many know how many secrets goes to an 
 ounce. In the present deplorable state of the world it isn't wise. 
 Here's thirty shillings; that'll make up. Come! you shall! I 
 insist ! If you want any more, why, you know where to make the 
 application." 
 
 This was kind Bob could not but feel it to be very kind, while 
 the confidence he had reposed in Joanna made her heart leap for joy ; 
 for, although she had had recourse to every ingenious manoeuvre, 
 having a tendency in her view to convince him of the strength and 
 virgin purity of her affection although she had done, indeed, all 
 that the delicacy of her nature could sanction, to inspire him with a 
 perfect appreciation of the character of that vital spark with which 
 she longed to set his heart in a blaze, she had never till then felt quite 
 sure of success. She had, therefore, conceived him to be excessively dull 
 on this interesting subject, and that duluess had indisputably outraged, 
 to a painful extent, her refined sensibilities ; but then, being conscious, 
 not only that wealth induced favour, but that favour was the 
 legitimate germ of affection, she could not, nor did she, indeed, wish 
 to disguise from herself, that in the garden of his heart she had planted 
 this germ, and hence, fancying that she had but to cultivate it 
 tenderly, proceeeded to explain to him, with much poetic feeling, 
 that she had a mass of money in one of the savings' banks to a highly 
 respectable tune, and that she thought most sincerely, that such mass 
 would go far towards enabling a comfortable couple to commence in 
 the independent green-grocery line, if, indeed, it would not, with the 
 aid of a brewer, establish them at once in a public-house of respecta- 
 bility, which formed, at that particular period, the very acme of her 
 ambition. Of course Bob's opinion on this subject were bound to be 
 strikingly coincident with her own ; and although he did not under- 
 stand her aim exactly, having no serious matrimonial feelings about 
 him, he continued to converse with her on various matters which had 
 indirect reference to those feelings, until Stanley again ordered 
 the cab. 
 
 As the widow had been detained for some time in the city, she had 
 but just alighted from her carriage when Stanley arrived. She seemed 
 to have been slightly put out about something, but she instantly gave 
 him a cheque for the amount required. 
 
 " Why do you give me this thing ?" cried Stanley, throwing the 
 cheque down, as if it were valueless. " "Why could you not bring 
 me the money ?" 
 
 " A cheque, my love, looks more respectable infinitely more 
 respectable." 
 
 '* So it would, with my own name attached j but do you suppose I 
 
STANLEY TITORtf. 137 
 
 want the whole world to know that I have to run to you for all the 
 money I want ? Your own respectability, mother, you look at, not 
 mine. If a cheque be an emblem of respectability, why not place me 
 in a position to give cheques of my own ? Here, it's now half-past 
 four, and I must go galloping down to the banker's to get this thing 
 cashed." 
 
 11 Surely that is unnecessary ? What difference can it make ?" 
 
 " What difference ? Why, I would not let him gee this on any 
 account ! I wish you had a little more thought for me, mother. If 
 you had, I think your affection would be much more conspicuous." 
 
 " Stanley ! indeed this is cruel ! But you do not you cannot 
 really mean what you say. If you did, 1 should be wretched. My 
 dearest boy, why are you so passionate ? You'll break my heart ! 
 I'm sure you'll break my heart, and then you would be very sorry, 
 would you not ? Yes, 1 know you would," she added, throwing her 
 arms round his neck, and fondly kissing him, " my boy !" 
 
 He returned the kiss coldly, and quitted the room. 
 
 Now, the widow regretted all this very much ; not only in conse- 
 quence of Stanley's impetuosity, which she had in his childhood most 
 culpably fostered, but because 'she had v\ished that particular cheque 
 to pass through the hands of Sir William. However, as it was, she 
 contented herself with the cherished conviction that he would, never- 
 theless, understand and duly appreciate the source whence it came. 
 
 Having obtained the cash at the banker's, Stanley in due time 
 proceeded to dine with Sir William ; to whom, immediately after 
 dinner they being quite alone he cheerfully paid the amount. 
 
 Sir William affected to receive it with great reluctance. 
 
 " Upon my honour,'' said he, " I am ashamed to take it of you. I 
 am, indeed." 
 
 "Ridiculous!" cried Stanley. "The sum is nothing; and you 
 must not ' lay the flattering unction to your soul' that I am not going 
 to have my revenge." 
 
 Sir William was pleafed to hear that in Stanley's estimation the 
 amount was inconsiderable. He was also pleased to hear him speak 
 of having his revenge; still he appeared to be most unwilling to 
 receive it. 
 
 " I do not," he observed, " care a straw about winning any amount 
 of a number of friends ; but 1 cannot bear to win so much of one. 
 However, as you insist upon my receiving it, I also must insist upon 
 being allowed to make your amiable wife a present." 
 
 11 Nonsense ! nonsense !" cried Stanley. " I beg you will do 
 nothing of the sort." 
 
 "Then, by heavens! I'll not have the money at all. I may be 
 called a curious fellow, and perhaps I am ; but this isn't quite con- 
 genial with a certain sort of principle, or feeling, I have about me." 
 
 " Why, suppose I had won it of you, do you think I would not 
 have received it ?" 
 
 " Not with pleasure. I am sure of it. I know you too well. Afc 
 all events I'll do what I say. You can but call me out; and, 
 although I am not much of a shof, I'll back myself to fire in ilie air 
 on such an occasion with any man in England." 
 18 
 
133 STANLEY T11OEN. 
 
 Stanley smiled. He had now a much better opinion of Sir William 
 than ever; an 1, as both were well satisfied, they kept up a spirited, 
 merry conversation, their full flow of pleasure being interrupted only 
 when Major Foxe happened to be named; on which occasions Sir 
 "William invariably felt himself in honour bound to swell with 
 indignation. 
 
 At eleven o'clock precisely, Bob, accoruing to instructions, drove 
 up to the south entrance of the Albany, where he waited with the 
 most exemplary patience till twelve, and then fell asleep, and dreamt 
 of his prospects till one, when the arrival of Sian'ey and Sir William, 
 both of whom were somewhat heated with wine, had the effect of 
 making him leap out of the cab, and to rush to the horse's head, 
 before his eyes were in a positively strict sense, open. 
 
 "You may as well jump in," said Stanley, on taking the reins. 
 
 " Oh, with all my heart," returned Sir William. " The air is 
 refreshing. I'll see you home, and then walk back coolly." 
 
 He accordingly at once took his seat, and they started, turning the 
 corner as if some great principle impelled the near wheel to graze the 
 glove of a person whose baud \vns on the lamp-post. 
 
 " I'll bet ten to one," said Sir William, on reaching the Circus, 
 " that you don't drive through the Quadrant at full gallop, without 
 touching the pillars on the one t*ide, or the shutters on the other." 
 
 " What, on the footpath there under the piazza, do you mean ?" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Safe bet," said Stanley, who continued to drive on. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you what I'll do with you, safe as it is : I'il take 
 ten to one that I do it." 
 
 " Done !" cried Stanley. 
 
 " In fifties ?" 
 
 " Ay, in fifties. But the people !" 
 
 " Oh, I'll very soon clear the course. You'll see how they'll all 
 fly before us !" 
 
 They now changed places. Stanley gave up the reins, and Sir 
 William drove back to the Circus. 
 
 " Now, then," said he, " sit firm. Never mind the screams of the 
 women. Hold hard, Bob ! Yo-icks ! yo-icks ! tally ho !" he shouted, 
 driving in by Swan and Edgar's shop. " Yoi! yoi ! yoi! yoi ! toloo, 
 toloo, there ! yoi ! yoi !" 
 
 And away they dashed, while the women were shrieking, and the 
 men were groaning, nnd the police were running from all directions. 
 At starting the horse was somewhat frightened, and seemed half 
 inclined to bolt out of the course ; but as ids reckless driver kept a 
 tight rein, while continuing to shout as if Reynard had been in sight, 
 he went on without a slip, although the flag-stones were nearly as 
 smooth as glass. The tusk was nearly completed. Stanley's five 
 hundred seemed scarcely worth a shilling's purchase. They had but 
 to pass a few more pillars, and they were out. 
 
 ' ; Keep on, sir ! keep on !" shouted Bob. " The police !" 
 
 This sufficiently startled the hair-brained Baronet to cause him in 
 his efforts to turn sharp into the road, to graze the base of the last 
 pillar, and thus to lose. 
 
STANLEY THOBtf 139 
 
 The angry exclamation which followed convinced Bob that Stai.ley 
 had given up the reins. He cared, however, nothing for Sir Wil- 
 liam's anger then, but instantly pulled back the hood to give 
 instructions. The people behind were still groaning with indignation, 
 and the police w r ere still running with great ferocity. 
 
 " Keep on, sir ! keep on, sir !" cried Bob. " He can do more thnn 
 that ! We shan't beat 'em ! There's one on 'em now at our heels in 
 a cab ! Take the reins take the reins, sir!" he added, addressing 
 Stanley, "and then the Prince won't be frightened. That's right, 
 sir! Keep on, sir! Go right into the New Road, and then we'll 
 dodge 'em." 
 
 " Can you see them now, Bob ?" cried Stanley, on reaching the 
 Crescent. 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir! they're just behind us, cutting away as if they 
 had'nt another minute to live. Now to the right, sir ! 1 know every 
 inch of the ground." 
 
 Guided by Bob, Stanley went the right, and in a short time turned 
 to the right again, and then dashed through an infinite variety of 
 streets, turning to the left and right alternattly, until they reached 
 Tottenham-court-road, although long before that, Bob felt sure of 
 having effectually eluded their official pursuer. 
 
 " Well, Bob, which way now ?" inquired Stanley. 
 
 " Oh, any way you like, sir, now. You can walk the Prince, if 
 you like, sir. They've given up the chase. But I beg pardon, sir, 
 but if I was you, I'd never try that there dodge again. It's a mercy 
 we wasn't all smashed and I'm sure we knocked some on 'em down. 
 It's a regular miracle the Prince didn't bolt !" 
 
 Sir William laughed heartily at this, notwithstanding he had 
 lost ; but Stanley, although he had won, felt that Bob was quite 
 right, and was about to confess that justice had nothing to do 
 with their escape, when the horse's head was suddenly seized by a 
 policeman. 
 
 " Stand aside !" cried Stanley. " Let go your hold !" 
 
 " Not a bit of it !" cried the policeman, who still held on, until Bob, 
 who had leaped from behind on the instant, threw his coat into the 
 cab, and demanded an explanation. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" he exclaimed. " Get away from my horse ! 
 Don't you see he don't like you ? What do you want ? Do you 
 hear ? Stand away !" And he seized the policeman, who, finding 
 the horse becoming unmanageable, relinquished the reins, and at once 
 secured him. 
 
 Stanley was now about to leap from the cab, but Sir William 
 restrained him, and, as at the moment Bob shouted, " D:ive on, sir ! 
 drive on! There's more of 'em coming, sir! Xever mind me, 
 sir ! Drive on !" he somewhat reluctantly gave the horse his head, 
 and dashed a A ay. 
 
 Bub made no resistance ; nor would he allow the calmness of his 
 spirit to be ruffled ; albeit two other policemen ca'ne up at the time, 
 and handled him with something like ferocity. 
 
 " Behave," said he, " a leetle near the mark, and I'll walk like a 
 gentleman, /don't want to cut a>vay from you. It's no odds to 
 
110 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 me ! If you wasn't to go for to hold me at all, I'd walk with you as 
 regular as a lamb." 
 
 On tliia particular point the incredulity of the policemen was rather 
 remarkable. They still held him tightly, and continued to hold him 
 until they arrived at the station, when they placed him behind a 
 piece of wood yclept the bar, and proceeded to introduce him to the 
 notice of the inspector, who, while disposing of a mouthful of a cold 
 mutton pie looked at him with supreme official dignity. 
 
 " Well," said the inspector, having listened with peculiar attention 
 to the merits of the case, as portraxed in the opening address, which 
 was somewhat poetical, "and who is your master ?" 
 
 Bob with great deliberation passed his hand over his chin, and 
 said, " Why " 
 
 " Do you hear me ! Who is your master? We are not going to 
 let you stand hatching a lot of lies. Who is he ? What's his name ? 
 Where does he live ?" 
 
 " Why," replied Bob, who was still unruffled, " under all the cir- 
 cumstanstials of the case, I don't know, you see, exact, that I should 
 be regularly justifiable " 
 
 " None of your long speeches here. It won't do. Again I ask, 
 who is your master ?" 
 
 "You see," returned Bob, with an appropriate gesture, "it's a 
 delicate pint when you look at it deliberate ! Eeely I don't think it 
 would become me to tell, do you know !" 
 
 " But you must tell ! That's all about it." 
 
 " Well, if I must, why the fact of the matter is I must. There 
 can't be two opinions, anyhow, about that ; but it somehow or another 
 strikes me forcible that I've heard a old saying, which says, you can 
 take a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. Now, that's a 
 predicament : and, it just occurs to my 'magination that, if I make up 
 my mind that I w on't tell, I won't ; and, as true as I'm alive, I can't 
 see how you can make me tell legally by law, although, no doubt, 
 such things was done in the days of sanguinary Mary." 
 
 "What are you chattering about?" demanded the inspector, who 
 conceiving his authority to be in some degree contemned, began to 
 be really very angry. " Do you mean to say that you'll not tell me 
 who your master is ?" 
 
 " Why, I don't mean to say that I won't ; nor I don't mean to say 
 that I will ; I was only just a-argufying the pint, which seems to me 
 to be rayther knotty. 1 ' 
 
 " It'll be all the worse for you, young fellow ! Now, do you mean 
 to tell me, or don't you ?" 
 
 " I don't see how I can, without cutting the throat of that con- 
 fidence which ought " 
 
 " Yes or no ! We've had quite enough jabbering. Will you teJl 
 me, or not ?" 
 
 " Excuse me. Not to-night. I must turn the matter over in my 
 mind." 
 
 " Lock him up !" cried the inspector-" lock him. up !" And, afti r 
 having aa quietly as a dove undergone the operation of having his 
 pocketa emptied the necessity for which, however, he could not then 
 
STANLEY THORX. 141 
 
 exactly comprehend he was conducted from the bar into the yard, 
 and introduced into one of the cells. 
 
 As far as the abstract process of locking-up was concerned, this 
 met his views precisely ; he expected to be locked up ; as a matter of 
 course, he expected that ; but he did not expect to be introduced into 
 a cell crowded with persons, of whom the majority were in a state of 
 the most bestial intoxication, yet such was the fact. Some were 
 snoring, some were singing, and some were swearing, while the 
 effluvium which prevailed was not remarkable for its fragrance. Bob 
 felt that this ought not to be. He understood, of course, then, why 
 his pockets had been emptied ; but he did think the practice of 
 thrusting all sorts of characters into a place of this kind, indiscrimi- 
 nately, was one which never ought to have obtained. He, however, 
 resolved to make himself as comfortable as the circumstances of 
 which some were peculiarly unpleasant would permit ; and, having 
 discussed certain interesting points with his conscience, he fell asleep, 
 and slept soundly till the clock struck nine. He was then aroused 
 by the policeman who had charge of the cell, and who, being a decent 
 man in his way, did, with great consideration, procure him some 
 breakfast, which Bob enjoyed much, and then waited with patience 
 till the hour arrived, at which he and the rest were escorted to the 
 office. 
 
 In this procession he had the precedence ; and he had scarcely left 
 the door of the station, when a stranger placed a coat into his hands 
 and walked away without uttering a word. Bob recognised the coat 
 in an instant. It was a frock-coat. He had brushed it, he knew not 
 how oft, nor did he care. He put it on with alacrity, and the fit was 
 undeniable. 
 
 "Is that your own coat r" inquired the policeman who did him the 
 honour to keep by his side. 
 
 " No ; the buttons of my own coat tells tales," replied Bub. 
 
 " Your master, I suppose, sent it ?" 
 
 " He who sent it is a trump, and nothing but!" cried Bob, who 
 was proud of the coat, and felt happy. " All right !" said he to him- 
 self, in a confidential whisper. " Ain't it a blessing to have a master 
 that's grateful? He don't care about me ! "What a pity he don't !" 
 Hereupon Bob winked with peculiar significance, and entered the 
 office with a tranquil mind. 
 
 Nearly an hour elapsed before his case was called on ; and although 
 during the whole of that time he was perfectly self-possessed, on being 
 placed at the bar, and culled " prisoner," he certainly did feel in a 
 some slight degree confused. As the case, however, proceeded, his 
 nerves recovered their wonted tone ; and when the charge had been 
 made, he pulled down his waistcoat, and held up his head with the air 
 of a man conscious of having a great duty to perform. 
 
 " Now," said the magistrate, " what have you to say to all this ?" 
 
 " Please your worship," said Bob, "it wasn't a act of mine. It 
 wasn't me that drove at all through the Quadrant." 
 
 " We know that ; but what do you say to the charge of having 
 obstructed the police in the execution of their duty ?" 
 
 " Why, please ycur worship, what could I do ? I didn't want to 
 
142 STANLEY TIIOKX. 
 
 hurt nobody. I'm sure I'm of a peaceful dispensation enough ; hut, 
 when I knew that the police wanted for to collar my master, how 
 could I stand that ? Suppose you was my master, what would you 
 think of ire if I suffered you to he taken ? Would it be all the 
 ticket? Wouldn't you think it unpopular and rotten ingratitude? 
 I rayther think you would, your worship, reely, if you only just put 
 it to yourself in that predicament, and argue the matter cool." 
 
 The magistrate smiled, and again consulted the police sheet, and 
 then said, " Let me s;'e : what do you say your master's name ia ?" 
 
 " I beg your worship's pardon, but I didn't say at all." 
 
 ""Well, what is his name?" 
 
 " Why, your worship, you'll obleedge me by not asking ; you will, 
 upon my word ; 'cause I don't want to tell any falsity, and I ain't 
 justifiable in speaking the truth." 
 
 " But we must know." 
 
 " Well, now, reely ; I bow, of course, respectably to your worship ; 
 but, if you look at the thing in the right liht, as a pint of principle, 
 I don't think that if I was to tell, you'd believe that I'd any 
 principality in me." 
 
 The magistrate tried to look grave, but the thing was a failure. 
 He did, however, say, with great apparent severity 
 
 " What if were to send you to prison, sir, and keep you there until 
 you did tell us ?" 
 
 " I hope your worship will think better of it," said Bob. " It ain't 
 as if I'd done a single ha'p'orth of injury; nor it ain't as if it was 
 me, you know, as drove upon the pavt ment, which, if I must speak 
 the sentiments of my mind, is a thing I wouldn't think of doing my- 
 self; and, though the law may say I didn't ought to have touched 
 the police, but ought rayther to have assisted him in collaring of 
 master, your worship will see that such a law is right clean against 
 nature ; 'cause, if I'd a-done that, I should a-hated myself regular ; I 
 couldn't a been off it." 
 
 "You a e fined five pounds," said the magistrate ; " and tell your 
 master, from me, that his conduct is disgraceful." 
 
 Bob bowed; and as he left the bar a solicitor, whom Stanley had 
 engaged to watch the case, placed in his hand the required sum, with 
 which the fine was duly paid, and he was at once set at liberty. Sir 
 William, who, although unperceived by him, had been in the office, 
 now presented him with a sovereign; and as on reaching home 
 Stanley made him a present of five, he could not but feel that Fortune, 
 smiling sweetly upon him, had designed the whole thing with no other 
 view than that of getting him out of those pecuniary embarrassments 
 in which he had been so dteply and so painfully involved. 
 
STANLEY T1IOHN. 143 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE HECONCIL1A.TIO2T. 
 
 THE efforts of General Johnson to effect a i\ conciliation had been 
 so perfectly successful, that he called, on the morning of the event 
 just recorded, to invite Stanley and Amelia to a quiet family 
 dinner, gently hinting that they were not to feel in the slightest 
 degree amazed if they met certain persons whom they honoured. 
 The intimation was, of course, in an instant understood ; and nothing 
 ever surpassed the fervid, heart-stirring eloquence with which Amelia 
 poured forth her thanks. The General, although overjoyed at having 
 accomplished his object, could scarcely refrain from shedding tears. 
 Every word touched his feelings as a father; every sentence went 
 directly to his heart. s r or was Stanley unmoved. With all hia 
 faults, he loved Amelia most fondly. He could not bear to see her 
 afflicted. He might be thoughtless ; he might neglect her and his 
 neglect was attributable to thoughtlessness alone : but a gentle tear 
 from her would wound him more than the most severe reproof that 
 could be uttered. In this instance, he knew that her tears were dis- 
 tilled from a feeling of joy ; yet he could not endure them ; and, as 
 all his serious efforts to check them failed, he had recourse to that 
 species of irony which tends to make troubles seem less by virtue of 
 painting them greater than they are. 
 
 " My love," said he, " this is indeed a dreadful day. Can the 
 General be really a friend, to bring this great calamity upon us ? 
 What the result of his polite invitation may be, one can't think ; but 
 is it not your impression that it ought to break our hearts? Come, 
 come, you silly girl ! You should smile, not weep. Tears should be 
 tolerated only with troubles ; they should never be permitted to dim 
 a happy prospect : General, should they ?" 
 
 "You are a good fellow, sir," said the General, pressing his hand, 
 " I admire you, sir. You have an angel for a wife, and you know it." 
 
 "Yes," said Stanley, playfully, "she is very fair, considering. Her 
 government is, however, extremely tyrannous." 
 
 " That's right quite right : keep a tight rein, my girl, and then he 
 may do. He is a wild young dog, and requires to be looked sharply 
 after. However, if you mind what you are about, I think it possible 
 that the favourable opinion I have formed of his character, will be 
 lasting." 
 
 " General," said Stanley, " for the interest you have taken in 
 Amelia, except my warmest thanks. She is a good girl ; and I cannot 
 but think, that for her sake, the Captain might have felt himself 
 justified in meeting us before." 
 
 " My dear Stanley !" said Amelia. 
 
 " Do you want to spoil all ?" cried the General. " Not another 
 word on that subject. Take my advice. But I'll leave him in your 
 hands," he added, addressing Amelia. " You must instruct him that 
 
144 STANLEY 
 
 tbc le?s he says about that the better. Adieu! Remember six. 
 Depend upon it all will be well." 
 
 The Q-eneral then left ; and the moment he had done so, Amelia 
 commenced her task of prevailing upon Stanley to say nothing dis- 
 pleasing her father a task which she accomplished with ease. 
 
 " For your sake, my dearest girl," said be affectionately, "I will on 
 that point be silent. I, of course, percrive that it might produce an 
 unpleasant feeling, and will, therefore, not indulge in a single 
 word." 
 
 For this time, until six, Amelia was lost in contemplation. She 
 endeavoured to think herself happy, but her happiness was then most 
 imperfect. Her feelings of delight were mingled with those of appre- 
 hension, both struggling for the mastery, but neither gaining the 
 ascendant. 
 
 When the time for their departure had arrived she became still 
 more nervous. The blood left her cheeks, and she trembled with 
 violence on the carriage being announced. Stanley tried with the 
 most affectionate zeal to cheer her. He strove to convince her that 
 her father's object was not to inflict an additional wound upon her 
 feelings, but to heal that which his anger had already adduced. Still 
 she dreaded to meet him, and became so tremulous on reaching the 
 General's residence that she had scarcely sufficient s f rength to alight. 
 
 " Courage courage, my dear girl !" cried Stanley, as he placed her 
 arm in his, and led her gently into the house. " You are not my 
 Amelia to-day !" 
 
 Another effect was made to assume an air of calmness, and they 
 were received with the most cheering warmth. Miss Johnson, with 
 the familiar love of a siater, took Amelia at once under her own 
 especial care, and exerted her enlivening influence with some degree 
 of success. Stanley was under the command of the Greneral, who 
 marched him into the library, and remained to entertain him until 
 Captain and Mrs. Joliffe arrived, when he introduced the lady into 
 the library, and conducted the Captain at once into the drawing- 
 room, to which Amelia had been led by her affectionate friend. 
 
 The very moment the Captain entered, Amelia flew into hisar ms, 
 which were extended to receive her ; but for some moments neither 
 had the power to speak. She sobbed convulsively, while the big tears 
 rolled dow T n his cheeks as he kissed her, and fondly pressed her again 
 and again to his heart. 
 
 " My girl!" he cried, at length, " my own deal girl ! for dear you 
 are still to me, my child, nay, dearer than evt r. Look up, my love ! 
 Kiss me no more sadness now." 
 
 " Dear papa !" cried Amelia, in tones the most touching. " You 
 will forgive me papa ? Pray, forgive me ?" 
 
 " I do from my heart ! from my soul ! Bless you ! bless you both ! 
 be happy !" 
 
 A fresh flood of tears was the only rejoind T Amelia could make; 
 and as her father with the most affectionate tenderness L j d her to the 
 sofa, the General, who had laid his whole plan, went for Stanley and 
 Mrs. Joliffe, with whom he speedily returned ; and while Amelia was 
 being caressed by the latter, the Captain was shaking the former 
 
STANLEY TII011N. 115 
 
 cordially by the hand, thereby perfectly realiz'ug the conception of the 
 General, who felt that his task was complete. 
 
 Amelia was now most happy. Restored to those who, from her 
 earliest infancy, had cherished and loved her most fondly, her heart 
 was filled with that pure joy whose natural element is silence. 
 
 During dinner not a syllable was uttered having; reference, even 
 remotely, to the cause of their meeting that day. They appeared to 
 be afraid to speak, lest they should happen to drop a word which 
 could be supposed to apply to it. Miss Johnson, however, did 
 eventually go so far as to explain how excessively disappointed she 
 had been on ascertaining that Stanley was married, inasmuch as, in 
 the event of his having been single, what the consequence of her 
 rescue might have been she really could not at all pretend to tell. 
 Upon which Stanley condoled with her in the most happy vein, and 
 she was rallied on the subject by all but Amelia, whose heart was too 
 full to allow her to join them. 
 
 The ladies retired early, and their retirement appeared to be the 
 signal for silence. This part of the business seemed to have been 
 altogether forgotten by the General ; he had, at all events, omitted 
 to include it in his plan. He now saw that the grand subject must 
 of necessity be alluded to in some way ; and while he was considering 
 which ought to speak first, Stanley and the Captain were waiting 
 anxiously for each other to begin. At length, the General, by dint 
 of much reasoning for he remembered no precedent by which he 
 could be guided, safely arrived at the conclusion that they both 
 expected him to break the ice ; and, as he could not clearly recognise 
 any incorrectness in such a course, he replenished his glass, and 
 resolved to pursue it. 
 
 " Well," said he, having taken a deep inspiration, "you understand 
 each other perfectly now, I presume ! You consent to receive this 
 desperate young gentleman, and he, in return, consents to act so as to 
 render his alliance a source of pleasure to all concerned. Is it not so ?" 
 
 " That seems to be implied," said the Captain. " But I have to 
 make one stipulation, which is, that as I have certain scruples on the 
 subject, we must have this marriage celebrated according to the rites 
 of the Church of England, and in an English church. You will con- 
 sent to this ?" he added, addressing Stanley. 
 
 "With pleasure," replied Stanley, "I shall be happy in any way 
 to meet your views." 
 
 " Then, from this hour, not a single word on the subject which 
 caused our estrangement shall ever escape my lips. All shall be as 
 if I had given my consent in the first instance ; and nothing that I 
 can do to promote the happiness of you both shall be left undone." 
 
 " Excellent !" cried the General. " When is it to be ?" 
 
 "As early as you please," replied Stanley, "perhaps the sooner the 
 better." 
 
 " Well, then, let me see, said the Captain, " to-morrow is Saturday 
 the licence can be procured in the morning. Suppose we say 
 Monday ? The thing can be confined to ourselves, and we can all 
 dine at Eichmond, and be happy. Shall it be so ?" 
 
 Stanley at once consented, and the preliminaries were diacus3 
 19 
 
146 STANLEY* TIIOKIT. 
 
 and satisfactorily arranged; and when the arrangement was com* 
 mtmicated to Amelia, she experienced the truest, the purest delight* 
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 IN WHICH STANLEY AND AMELIA ABE MAEEIED AGAIIT. 
 
 INSPIRED with moat joyous feelings, Amelia early the next morning 
 began to prepare for her second marriage. Her pleasure being per- 
 fectly unalloyed with those delicate apprehensions, which, under 
 circumstances of an ordinary character, are inseparable from the 
 contemplation of marriage, was of the purest conceivable caste. Her 
 spirits were high ; her heart was light ; while Stanley, in order to 
 increase her joy, addressed her throughout the day as Miss Joliffe, 
 wooed her zealously, proposed to her with playful formality, and 
 spoke of the morrow as the day on which their connubial felicity was 
 to commence. This, of course, could not fail to impart additional 
 delight to her, who appreciated highly every kind word and look. She 
 felt, indeed, truly happy ; and the manifestation of that happiness 
 proved that his influence over her heart was complete. 
 
 As the widow had been the previous evening informed that 
 Captain JolifFe and his lady considered her presence at the ceremony 
 indispensable, she, too, was excessively busy all the morning, being 
 firmly resolved to create a favourable first impression, a resolution 
 which invariably rendered the undertaking immense. By virtue of 
 ^reat perseverance, however, she on this occasion did achieve the pre- 
 liminary object in view with comparative tranquillity and ease, and 
 that, moreover, so early, that after having poured an additional stream 
 of instructions into the comprehensive mind of her maid who, when 
 anything unusual occurred, always had a fine time of it she entered 
 her carriage with the view of dining with Stanley and Amelia, as 
 proposed. 
 
 On her arrival she was introduced in due form to "Miss JolifFe," 
 with the idea of which the widow was extremely amused, and she 
 entered into the spirit of the thing with much pleasure, and dwelt 
 with considerable point upon the chief characteristics of the position 
 of the married lovers : which, she contended, was rather peculiar, and 
 backed her views on the subject with much argumentative matter, 
 which had the effect of inducing considerable mirth. 
 
 On dinner being announced, a small packet was delivered to 
 Stanley, containing an elegant suite of pearls, the promised present 
 of Sir \Vilfiam to Amelia. Stanley opened it; read the note by 
 which it was accompanied, and then put them both into his pocket, 
 where they remained till after dinner, when he rose, and, having 
 reduced them, said, 
 
 " My dear Miss Joliffe, I have the almost inexpressible pleasure to 
 
W< 
 
STANLEY 
 
 inform you that an honourable baronet, whom you hold in respect, 
 and whom my mother very highly esteems " 
 
 " Nay nay," interrupted the widow, who blushed very deeply, 
 " nay, that is not fair now, is it, my love ?" 
 
 " I beg that I may not be interrupted," said Stanley, who then 
 resumed, " I have, I say, the pleasure to announce that an honourable 
 baronet has deputed me to present to you a case of pearls, your 
 acceptance of which " 
 
 " Oh ! do let us look !" exclaimed the widow. " Pray open them ! 
 Do, there's a dear !" 
 
 " "What is the use of my rising to make a brilliant speech," cried 
 Stanley, " if my eloquence is to be murdered by these unseemly in- 
 terruptions ? The opposition is factious, But I pity you I pity you 
 both ; and as I find that you cannot appreciate pure eloquence ; as I 
 find that you hold it, in the plenitude of your ignorance which is 
 dense to be far less brilliant and attractive than the eloquence of 
 jewels, I scorn to enlighten the minds of such unintellectual ingrates, 
 and therefore at once resume my seat with an appropriate contempt 
 for the gross character of your taste." 
 
 " What dears !" exclaimed the widow, totally deaf to the affected 
 indignation of Stanley. " How excessively elegant ! And tho^e 
 drops ! Dear me, ho*w sweetly pretty ! Well now, really ! Do 
 pearls become you, my love ? Oh ! yes ; I should say so. And, then, 
 how very very chaste and quiet ! But you do not seem to think 
 so much of them as I do?" 
 
 " Oh ! indeed I admire them exceedingly," said Amelia. " But is it 
 not singular that Sir William should have made me a present of them ?" 
 
 " Do not inquire of me," replied Stanley. " I was about to explain 
 all, when I was disgracefully interrupted ; but now, why of course, you 
 cannot expect " 
 
 " Yes, please," said Amelia ; " do there's a good creature ! I 
 know you will to oblige me, will you not?" 
 
 " Why, as a favour thus specially solicited, I scarcely know how to 
 refuse. But I protest against the exercise of this species of influence. 
 There never was a man so much influenced by his wife as I am by mine, 
 that is to be. It really is monstrous. I have nothing like a will of 
 my own. I am governed as completely as an absolute slave. I 
 submit to it now for the last time. Tou will understand, madam, 
 that to-morrow I revolt." 
 
 " Nay, that will be cruel," said Amelia, who always enjoyed the 
 idea of his being governed by her. " To-morrow will be my own day." 
 
 " Another case of tyranny ! Well, I'll give you to-morrow ; but 
 after to-morrow I shall assume my natural dignity as a man ! Now 
 with regard to these pearls, Sir William happened to win a little 
 money of me at Epsom ; which money he declared that he would not 
 receive, unless I allowed him to make you a present. I repudiated 
 the notion, of course ; but eventually, in order to induce him to take 
 it, I tacitly consented, and behold the result !" 
 
 "Well, really! Oh! how very honourable!" cried Amelia. "D> 
 you believe that if you had not consented he would not have received 
 this money at all !" 
 
148 STANLEY TIIOBX. 
 
 " I believe this," said Stanley, " that if he had received it he would 
 have made you a present, whether my consent had been obtained or 
 not," 
 
 " "Well it, at all events, proves him to be a man of strict principle. 
 It is really a very elegant present ! But I scarcely know how I am 
 to thank him." 
 
 At this moment a servant entered with a packet of about the same 
 size, addressed to Amelia, which she opened, and proceeded to read a 
 note it contained, while the widow and Stanley re-examined the pearls. 
 
 It is probably remarkable that the widow on this occasion was Dot 
 in such raptures as she might have been, considering. It is true, she 
 was pleased at the manifestation of that honourable principle by 
 which she had ever supposed Sir "William to be actuated ; still she 
 did feel, and strongly, that if the pearls had been presented to her, 
 it would have been a different thing altogether ; and sa it would. 
 
 " My dearest girl !" cried Stanley, on perceiving tears in Amelia's 
 eyes, " what has happened ?" 
 
 Amelia handed him the note, which he read, and then exclaimed, 
 
 " "Well, this is dreadful ! The Captain," he added, addressing the 
 widow with great solemnity, " has presented Amelia with a set of 
 brilliants to wear to-morrow ! Now, isn't that appalling ? Eeturn 
 them, my love : by all means send them back. Do not keep them 
 for the world. It's quite shocking S" 
 
 Amelia smiled through her tears, which were those of pure affection, 
 and having kissed the case fervently, displayed the sparkling gems. 
 The pearls were, of course, in an instant eclipsed. Had the brilliants 
 been but paste, they would in her view have thrown them at onco 
 into the shade ; but as they were in reality brilliants, her delight was 
 unbounded, and she viewed them with pride. 
 
 And then, the widow. Oh ! nothing in her judgment could sur- 
 pass them in beauty. She had a set, it was true, but they were not to 
 be compared, in point of splendour, with those. Still, she must say, 
 that she greatly preferred sapphires herself, and announced it dis- 
 tinctly to be her settled conviction that, if she were ever again tempted 
 to make a purchase of the kind, lovely sapphires would be chosen ; 
 they were so dazzling so strikingly dazzling ! they were dears \ 
 
 Of course she and Amelia, impatient as they both were to witness 
 the effect of these jewels, soon after this retired ; and immediately 
 they had done so, Stanley, who well knew the widow's feelings, and 
 who had watched the emotions these presents bad induced, left the 
 house, and having purchased a suite of sapphires, and requested them 
 to be addressed to his mother, and sent to her residence forthwith, 
 re'urned with so much expedition, that neither the widow nor Amelia 
 had the slightest knowledge of his having been out. 
 
 Now, in history, both ancient and modern, coincidences are re- 
 corded of a strange and remarkable character ; but it is extremely 
 questionable whether one can be found upon record more strange or 
 more remarkable than this, that at the moment these sapphires were 
 being delivered at the door of the widow's residence, a bandbox 
 arrived at the door of Stanley's. This bandbox to which nothing in 
 the recognised annals of bandboxes comparable in point of dimensions 
 
STANLEY THOU:!?. 149 
 
 exists, did produce a most extraordinary sensation. It was addressed 
 to Joanna, and highly ingenious and conflicting were the conjectures 
 which sprang from her titter inability to tell who had sent it, and 
 what it contained. She did, however, eventually raise the lid, and 
 with joy beheld a bonnet of deep interest, and of the Tuscan order of 
 architecture, powerfully trimmed. Oh ! with what rapture she gazed 
 at its shape ; with what exalted satisfaction she guessed what, in its 
 native nakedness, it cost, fixed mentally the price of the ribbon per 
 yard, and dwelt intensely upon the texture of the curtain behind. 
 But who on earth could have sent it ? That she naturally held to be 
 a highly-important question; but the mystery in which it was 
 involved was so dark, that in her view it seemed to defy all solution. 
 She laboured to solve it zealously ; she taxed her teeming memory, 
 and racked her rich imagination to the utmost, but in vain ; it 
 appeared to be utterly impossible to be done, and she was just about 
 to give the thing up in despair, when she was struck with an idea 
 that it was Bob. But then she considered that Bob had no money. 
 She, notwithstanding, turned and looked at him as he sat with his 
 right elbow resting upon the back of his chair, and his forefinger 
 placed upon his temple, while his merry eyes twinkled with pleasur- 
 able pride ; and, as she looked, she saw that in his expression, which 
 induced her on the impulse of the moment to exclaim, ** Oh ! Robert, 
 it was you !" when, as Bob did not deny the soft impeachment, but, 
 on the contrary, smiled and seemed delighted, she flew to him, and 
 thanked him, and shook his hand warmly, and could have kissed 
 him, but didn't. 
 
 In the midst of our errors how frequently does it occur that we are 
 correct ; and when we are, how refreshing is the conviction ! how 
 pleasurable how beautfful are the feelings of which that conviction 
 is the germ ! It is true too true that, by virtue of some inscrutable 
 perversion of judgment, we often delude ourselves into the belief that 
 we are right when we are wrong; but this wasn't the case with 
 Joanna. She was perfectly correct. Bob did buy the bonuet ; and 
 had sent it, in order to mark as strongly as possible his sense of her 
 politeness a fact of which she no sooner became quite conscious than 
 she was amazed! overjoyed, but amazed! 
 
 " I hope," she observed, when her pulse had subsided to about 
 eighty, " I sincerely hope you haven't been a-borrowing of money 
 for to make me this beautiful present ? ' 
 
 "Not a bit," replied Bob "not a bit. I'm in funds of my 
 own." 
 
 This created another mystery in the mind of Joanna. How he had 
 became possessed of these funds she really could not conceive. It 
 was, in her gentle judgment, most strange. It was so sudden. 
 
 At length Bob, who had some knowledge of human nature as 
 developed in the deep recesses of respectable kitchens, perceiving that 
 her native curiosity had been awakened, said, " You wonder, I dare 
 say, now, where I got this money ; and it's natural. But I don't 
 mind telling of you candid. It's presents. Sir William gave me one 
 sov., and master which is a grateful trump give me five." 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, you know, I'm never curious, and so, of course, 
 
150 BIAS LEY T11OEN. 
 
 I'm not at all ambitioua to know ; but what could they possibly have 
 made you such handsome presents for ?" 
 
 Bob's notions of honour were high ; and as, by the code which he 
 recognised, he felt himself bound to keep his masters's secrets faith- 
 fully within his own breast, he replied that he trusted that she would 
 look at the thing strictly in the right light when he informed her, 
 that the implied obligation he was under not to explain, he held to be 
 gacred. 
 
 " "Well, of course," said Joanna, " I've no right to ask, nor I don't 
 very particular wish to know ; but I hope that this isn't a reward for 
 the disguisement of any clandestine intrigue ? I mean, I hope, there's 
 no lady in the case ?" 
 
 ""Why, you don't for a minute suppose such a thing ?" 
 
 "Why, no, I don't suppose that it is so ; only, if'ii is, missis ought 
 to know it. You know nothing of that kind, Robert, ought to be 
 kept away from her !" 
 
 " Don't injure your health upon that score ; there's nothing of the 
 sort : not a bit of it. Besides, is ifc likely ? I should like to see her 
 which could come up to missis, /never see one, and I've seen a few 
 in my time. "Why there's more of the lady in her little finger than 
 there is in the whole bodies of your fine flashy dames, which depends 
 upon di'monds and paint. Mark my words, they'll never cut her out 
 ami try all they know. She'd be the one for my money, if I was a 
 gentleman. She's my fancy all over. Just the lady I should choose." 
 
 J janna expressed the highest admiration of his taste, which she did 
 not, however, in reality, entertain, for the points of resemblance 
 between her and Amelia if any, indeed, could be said to exist were 
 neither numerous nor striking. Still, as Bob had thus set up his 
 standard, she resolved to look into the matter closely, and proceeded 
 at once to ascertain the extent to which they resembled each other ; 
 and, albeit, she could not but feel that she had in some respects the 
 advantage over her mistress, she arrived that very night at the con- 
 clusion that she was bound, as a matter of justice to herself, to look 
 as much like her as possible. 
 
 The next morning, at ten precisely, the widow, Captain and Mrs. 
 Jolifie, General and Miss Johnson, and Albert, who had been sum- 
 moned from Cambridge, arrived at Stanley's to breakfast ; and the 
 great feature of this meeting was the presentation of the widow to 
 Amelia's family and friends. She had never, of course, been in- 
 troduced to them before; and while to her the introduction was a 
 source of great pleasure, they were manifestly struck by her appear- 
 ance, which was singularly brilliant, if not, indeed, blazing. She had 
 been a handsome, and was even then an extremely fine woman, her 
 features were regular and bold ; and, although she possessed not that 
 elegance of manner which in them was so conspicuous, her presence 
 was attractive and even commanding. The impression which she 
 made was most favourable ; they were all highly pleased with her, and 
 paid her great attention, which naturally caused her to be highly 
 pleased with them. It was, in short, an extremely joyous party, and 
 nothing but happiness prevailed. 
 
 At eleven, according to the arrangement made by the Captun 
 
STANLEY THORN. 151 
 
 they went to church ; and as Amelia entered with her father, she 
 burst into tears, and clung closely to him, and looked at him, 
 imploringly, as if she feared that she had been guilty of a greater 
 offence than that involved in disobedience. He tried to cheer her ; 
 he pressed her hand and kissed her ; and understanding her feelings 
 ^sought to impress upon her mind that she had in reality been 
 married ; but his efforts to raiee her spirits were but slightly success- 
 ful. She was deeply affected, and continued to be eo during the 
 ceremony, the solemnity of which contrasted strongly with the highly 
 reprehensible levity which marked its performance at Gretna, until 
 Stanley, her soul's idol, repeated his solemn promise to love and to 
 cherish her with an emphasis which produced a thrill a joy. 
 
 Immediately after the ceremony they started for Eichmond. 
 Stanley and Amelia were in the General's chariot alone ; and while 
 the rest were engaged in lauding him to the skies, he was endeavour- 
 ing to inspire her with cheerfulness and spirit. 
 
 " I scarcely know," said he, having partially accomplished this 
 object, " I know I am to get you through the world, you sad, sensitive 
 creature ! You have no courage at all." 
 
 " I have no apprehension while with you," she replied ; " because I 
 feel, nay, I know, that you will regard my want of courage as an 
 additional claim to your protection. O Stanley ! my dearest love, I 
 am so happy ! so very, very happy ! you cannot conceive Iww happy 
 I am ?" 
 
 Stanley pressed her to his heart, and held her there in silence until 
 they arrived at the home of her infancy, when her earliest, her 
 sweetest recollections rushed upon her, and filled her heart with 
 rapture. It was the first time, of course, that she had been there 
 since the elopement, and her feelings on alighting from the carriage 
 were delightful in the extreme. Her favourite Italian greyhound, 
 that had been pining during the absence of his gentle mistress, knew 
 her in an instant, and bounded with joy, while the servants, by whom 
 she had ever been beloved, welcomed her back with pure and heart- 
 felt pleasure. She then ran about the house like a child ; tried the 
 tones of her harp ; struck a few cords upon her piano ; looked into 
 all the rooms, and gave a hasty glance at everything with which she 
 had been familiar, until she was summoned to partake of the delicious 
 repast that had been provided, when she rejoined the happy party, 
 but almost immediately afterwards drew Stanley into the garden, 
 where they walked, like children, hand in hand. 
 
 The widow and Mrs. Jolliffe were inseparable. They were indeed, 
 quite delighted with each other, for each met the others views upon 
 every point, but more especially upon that which had reference to the 
 manly bearing and noble spirit of Stanley. They kept themselves 
 aloof from the rest, their discourse being essentially private and con- 
 fidential ; and while they were engaged in establishing the fact that 
 every mild, gentle, amiable creature ought to have a high-toned man 
 of spirit for a husband, the General and the Captain were settling the 
 point that an amiable, devoted, and affectionate wife was the only 
 thing calculated to keep a high-spirited young dog within bounds. 
 As for Albert and the lively Miss Johnson ; they were completely 
 
152 STANLEY. THORN. 
 
 shut out from all confidence ; and hence, perceiving that they were 
 not in reality wanted, the groom was ordered to saddle the horses, 
 and they started for a ride. 
 
 Thus appropriately paired, the party continued to be separated till 
 seven, when they sat down to a most recherche dinner, but still more 
 rccJiercJtewas the chaste wit which gave it a zest, and which imparted 
 to all the highest possible pleasure. 
 
 Miss Johnson was at all times brilliant, but never more so than 
 when she happened to be assailed. She enjoyed it exceedingly ; but 
 would give no quarter ; she would never allow her assailant to retreat ; 
 if unable to compete with her, she would extinguish him utterly ; 
 and to this may be attributed the fact of her being unmarried at the 
 age of thirty -five ; for, although she was beautiful, interesting, 
 amiable, and intelligent, and could boast of having had an immense 
 number of suitors, her irony withered the vanity of fools, while it 
 induced wise men to pause, with the view of considering what effect 
 it might have upon connubial bliss. She had thus scared them all, 
 and was then free as air; but her heart vsas as light as that element 
 still. On this occasion the General commenced an attack ; and most 
 unmercifully, on the ground of her being still a spinster ; but she de- 
 fended her position with surpassing spirit, and was on the point of 
 obtaining a signal triumph, when the Captain came up with h ; s 
 artillery, which the gallant Stanley held to be unfair, and therefore 
 sought to enlist under her banners ; but she drove him into the 
 opposite ranks, as one of the enemy, and fought them all, and that in 
 a style which was productive of infinite mirth. 
 
 In conformity with the telegraphed wish of the Captain who had 
 previously engaged the widow for the first set of quadrilles, and bade 
 them hold themselves in readiness, as he and the General were re- 
 solved to have a dance the ladies retired unusually early, when the 
 Captain, without resuming his seat, proposed, " Health to the bride 
 and bridegroom ! G-od bless them !" He then took Stanley's hand, 
 a; id having shaking it warmly, said 
 
 " General, this may be deemed unusual ; but the circumstances 
 which have induced it are unusual too. I am inspired with the 
 most happy feelings, and must give vent to them in some way. I am 
 proud, General, as a father I am proud, not only of my child, but of 
 her husband, whom I now more than ever esteem. His conduct this 
 day has been beyond all praise. He has proved that he possesses 
 that excellence of heart which must command universal admira- 
 tion. I have the highest confidence in him the very highest 
 confidence; and I feel quite sure that that confidence will never 
 be forfeited. Treat my child," he added, addressing Stanley, " cherish 
 her, my boy, as a most tender plant. She has a heart which will 
 never prove unfaithful to you, but which may be easily broken. May 
 every earthly happiness attend you both! May Providence bless 
 and protect you !" 
 
 The Captain was here overpowered by his feelings, and resumed 
 his seat in tears, and shortly afterwards Stanley expressed his 
 acknowledgments in an appropriate speech of great beauty and 
 point, and concluded by proposing the health of the Captain. Toasts 
 
THOH'ST. 
 
 then became the order of tlie evening. The General proposed Mrs. 
 Jolliffe; the Captain, the widow; Albert, Miss Johnson; Stanley, 
 the General ; and the General, Albert ; when they rejoined the ladies 
 with the happiest feelings in the ascendant ; and, after coffee, Miss 
 Jefferson Amelia's governess, who had been retained as companion 
 to Mrs. Jolliffe went to the piano, and dancing commenced, and was 
 kept up till four, when they all retired save the Captain and the 
 General, who in the early part of the evening decided upon having a 
 bottle of mulled claret alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE SONS OP GLQBY. 
 
 GENERAL and Miss Johnson left Eichmond the next day ; but Stanley, 
 Amelia, and the widow, remained there a week ; when Mrs. Joliffe, 
 having accepted the invitation of the widow, came up with her and 
 Amelia, while Stanley brought Albert with him. 
 
 With this arrangement Albert was especially pleased : the prospect 
 of passing a few days in town with Stanley met his views to a shade ; 
 for Kichmond, with all its beauties, had but few charms for him. He 
 had, moreover, at that period, a great object in view. "While at 
 Cambridge he had associated with certain Sons of Glory, whose poetic 
 accounts of their achievements in the metropolis had fired his soul ; and 
 as some of them happened to be then in town, he resolved to obtain an 
 introduction at head-quarters, in order that, if he did not immortalise 
 himself, he might at least do something to astonish their nerves. 
 He, therefore, lost no time in calling upon the chief Son of Glory 
 the chief, at least, among the Cambridge men the Hon. Harry 
 Slasher, who was highly pleased to see him, and who appointed to 
 meet him that evening at nine, with the view of showing him " a little 
 Heal life." 
 
 Accordingly at nine Albert went to the place appointed ; and at 
 about half-past twelve a person called upon Stanley, and requested to 
 see him in private. The servant who took up this message delivered 
 it with an air of deep mystery, for he did not exactly understand it. 
 
 " Oh, if you please, sir," said he, " there's a person below that wants 
 to speak to you privately. He wouldn't send up his name, because 
 he said you wouldn't know it." 
 
 41 What kind of person ? What is he like ?" inquired Stanley. 
 
 " He is a policeman," replied the servant. 
 
 " A policeman !" echoed Stanley, and the blood rushed to his cheeks, 
 for he thought of the Quadrant. "A policeman! What can Tie 
 want ? However, say I'll be with him directly." 
 
 " Dear Stanley !" cried Amelia, aa the servant left the room : 
 " what on earth can it be ?" 
 20 
 
154 STANLEY Til OH!?. 
 
 " Before I can tell you, my love, I must ascertain mjself," replied 
 Stanley, who went down at once, expecting, of course, that his con- 
 nection with the Quadrant affair had been traced. 
 
 " Step this way, will you," said he, addressing the policeman, as he 
 went into the parlour, that the thing might be private. " Now, what 
 is it ?" 
 
 " I've come," said the policeman, " from Mr. John Jones, a young 
 gentleman that's now in the station. He wants you to bail him." 
 
 " Jones !" cried Stanley, who felt much relieved. l - 1 don't know 
 any person of that name." 
 
 " Between you and me," said the policeman, confidentially, " it 
 strikes me it isn't his right name," but that's the name he gives." 
 
 " What sort of a fellow is he ?'/ 
 
 " Quite a young gentleman, with light curly hair." 
 
 " Oh ! I knew him. What, is he tipsy ?" 
 
 " No ; he has been up to that rum dodge of wrenching ofF knockera. 
 There was no less than eleven of 'ein found upon his person, besides 
 a mob of bell-pulls, and several scrapers." 
 
 "The young dog!" exclaimed Stanley. "Have a glass of wine; 
 I'll go with you." 
 
 The wine was rung for ; and while the policeman was helping him- 
 self, Stanley returned to Amelia. 
 
 " It is nothing of importance," said he, on entering the room. " I 
 shall be back in ten minutes." 
 
 " But tell me what it is, pray, do," said Amelia, " and then my mind 
 will be at ease. I shall conceive a thousand fears if you do not." 
 
 " Well, well ; Albert, it seems, has got into some scrape, and has 
 sent for me in order to get out of it." 
 
 " Nothing, I hope, serious ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ; nothing. I have but to go for him, and there will be an 
 end of the matter. It's a ridiculous affair altogether." 
 
 " Well, return to me as soon as possible there's a dear !" 
 
 Stanley promised to do so, and, having sent for a cab, he and the 
 policeman proceeded to the station. 
 
 On entering the place, the first person whom he saw was the delin- 
 quent, who had, as a special favour, been allowed to remain there 
 until the messenger returned ; and while Stanley was speaking to him 
 on the subject privately, the policeman whom he had accompanied was 
 transacting some cabalistic business with the inspector, which had 
 evidently reference to the matter in hand. 
 
 " You wish to become bail for this p rson ?" said the inspector, at 
 length. 
 
 " I do," replied Stanley. 
 
 " Are you a housekeeper ?" 
 
 " Yes : but what is the amount of bail demanded ?" 
 
 " The usual business five pounds." 
 
 " Well, then, as I am not known, it will be better, perhaps, for me 
 to deposit that amount." 
 
 " 1 am satisfied ; but you can do so if you please," said the in- 
 spector ; and Stanley at once produced the five pounds; and when a 
 document, which touched distinctly upon the production of John 
 
STAN'LEUT T1IOIIX. 155 
 
 Jones's body in the morning, had been read to 'him with appropriate 
 solemnity, he slipped half'-a-sovereign into the hand of the policeman, 
 and retired with the said John Jones on his arm. 
 
 " What could have induced you," said Stanley, on leaving the 
 station, " to commit so monstrous an act of folly ?" 
 
 " Eolly !" exclaimed Albert. " It's glorious ! All our fellows pride 
 themselves upon it ! All do it who have a particle of pluck !" 
 
 " I have heard of its being done, certainly, by men who have been 
 drunk ; but you are perfectly sober." 
 
 " So much the more glorious ! That's the beauty of it ! Any 
 fellow can do it when he has been drinking; when sober, very few 
 have the courage. It is then, and then only, that the pluck is dis- 
 played. But did you see them in the corner ? There was half a 
 hundred weight of them at least ! If it hadn't been for that, I should 
 never have been taken. A fellow can't, you know, cut away so well 
 with a weight like that at his tail." 
 
 " Well, but what was your object ? what did you mean to do with 
 them ?" 
 
 " Do with them ! send them as trophies to head-quarters, 
 through Slasher. You've heard of Harry, of course Lord Mount- 
 jove's son r" 
 
 " I don't remember." 
 
 " Oh, you must have beard of him. I'll introduce you. There's no 
 mistake about him. I know where to find him he expects me. 
 Come now !" 
 
 " No ; not to-night. I promised to return immediately." 
 
 " Oh, how about Amelia ? She, of course, knows nothing of this ?" 
 
 " She knows that you have got into some trifling scrape." 
 
 " Well, we'll soon set that square. But I wish you would come, 
 lie is waiting for me, I know." 
 
 " Then he prompted you to tins expedition ?" 
 
 " Of course in order to qualify myself. By the by, they're going 
 to have a glorious meeting to-rnorrow ! You must be there." 
 
 " Well, we shall see." 
 
 " Oh ! you must ! I'll call upon Harry directly this business is 
 settled. 
 
 " Why, it is settled already. You mustn't appear." 
 
 " Not appear ! ridiculous ! Do you imagine that Jcare what the 
 old fool of a magistrate may say ? He'll fine me a couple of pounds, 
 perhaps, or something of that sort. And what if he does treat me to 
 a lecture ? It will, at all events, be known how many trophies I had." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You must not appear." 
 
 " But you wouldn't have me act like a coward ?" 
 
 " I would countenance no act of meanness or dishonour ; but to 
 expose yourself, under the circumstances, were absurd. Besides, 
 although your name would not appear, the thing might reach the ears 
 of the governor ; and I presume you would not much like that ?" 
 
 " Why, I can't conscientiously say that I should." 
 
 " Well let the affair rest as it is. You don't appear. They have 
 got the amount of the bail that is forfeited of course, and the 
 is settled." 
 
15(5 STANLEY THOKN. 
 
 But this was a mode of settlement of which Albert did not at all 
 approve ; for his associates at Cambridge, although he had been there 
 so short a time, had metamorphosed him from a quiet, studious, gen- 
 tlemanly fellow, into a hair-brained, devil-may-care, reckless young 
 scamp. He did, however, eventually yield to the advice of Stanley, 
 who, could he on all occasions have summoned sufficient firmness to 
 practise the prudence he could preach, would have been far less liable 
 to error than he was. 
 
 On reaching home, Albert was severely interrogated, of course, by 
 Amelia; and while he was making the thing "all right and straight,'" 
 as he termed it, with her, Stanley was labouring to conceive what 
 description of pleasure that of wrenching off knockers in the abstract 
 could be. He felt that its character was peculiar : that he felt from 
 the first ; but he could not imagine it to be great. As, however, he 
 invariably assumed that a man must have some specific motive to 
 stimulate him to action, he in this particular instance arrived at the 
 conclusion, that although there might be no delight in the achievement 
 of itself, the most noble, the most beautiful feelings might be 
 awakened by the applause of those who held that achievement to be 
 glorious. 
 
 It was this consideration, and a high one it was, which induced him 
 to consent the next day to accompany Albert in the evening. He 
 was anxious to see what description of creatures they were by whom 
 actions of this peculiar description were applauded ; and hence, im- 
 mediately after dinner, no official declaration touching the contemp- 
 tuous non-appearance of Mr. John Jones having arrived, he and 
 Albert repaired to the place appointed. 
 
 It was dusk when they reached the rendezvous ; but few of the 
 Sons of Glory had arrived. Slasher was there, and some others, who, 
 like him, were great among the small; but none of the regularly 
 recognised great men had made their appearance. Of course, 
 Stanley was immediately presented to Slasher, and Slasher was 
 graciously pleased to declare that he wished he might die if he didn't 
 rather like him ; which was highly complimentary, and very good of 
 him, considering. 
 
 "We shall have some crack fellows here presently, I presume," 
 observed Stanley. 
 
 " Out and outers /" replied Slasher. " Can't be a second opinion 
 about 'em! down to every dodge, safe as a hammer ! nothing like 
 'em alive !" 
 
 From this Stanley was of course bound to infer that they were 
 very superior fellows indeed, and was about to give expressions to his 
 feelings upon the point, when a stunning shout was heard a shout 
 which made the air tremble, and threatened to shock the nerves of 
 nature. 
 
 " Hark ! "hark /" cried Slasher, with an expression of ecstasy, " here 
 they are ! here they are ! Something new, I'll bet a million !" The 
 chief!" he added, on reaching the window. " Let the E irl beat that 
 when he knows how to do it ! Hurrah tor ould Ireland ! hurrah !" 
 
 Stanley was at the window in an instant, and saw a well- 
 dressed, powerfully-built felkrw ? embellished with a coal-heaver's cap, 
 
6TA3LEY THQU5. 157 
 
 find dulj mounted upon a broad-backed dray-horse, preceded by a 
 brass band, playing with unexampled fury, " See ! the conquering 
 hero comes !" and followed by a travelling-carriage, built in the very 
 first style, and drawn by eight decent donkeys, mounted by eight 
 postilions, chosen from the smallest sweeps extant. In the carriage sat 
 six intellectual dustmen, and it was extremely interesting to mark the 
 exalted dignity with which th^y sat, and the gracious condecens ; ori 
 with which they occasionally removed the short pipea from their 
 mouths, and spat upon the multitude by whom they were cheered. 
 
 This triumphant procession moved but slowly along ; for the 
 donkeys, not having been used to the work, could not be persuaded 
 to stick to the collar, nor would they alb* it the postilions, with con- 
 sumate tact and judgment, sat as near their tails as possible be pre- 
 vailed upon to repudiate the habit they had acquired of kicking over 
 the traces. The inexorable adherence to this little irregularity 
 caused considerable delay ; but although the hero, scorning to go 
 a-head without his suite, turned and waited on every occasion with the 
 most exemplary patience for the re-adjustment ot things, the whole 
 procession did eventually reach its destination, amidst the most 
 deafening shouts. The hero then gracefully dismounted, by virtue of 
 standing upon the broad flat back of his charger, calling for three 
 times three cheers, and then leaping to the ground ; and when his 
 friends had alighted from the carriage the delica'e rose-pink lining 
 of which had, in consequence of the grandeur with which tliey had 
 reposed, become a shade or two darker in places he and they entered 
 the house with due solemnity of step, and soon appeared in the room 
 set apart for their orgies. Here Stunlry was in due form presented 
 to the hero, who presented the half-dozen dustmen to him, and then 
 summoned three waiters, and having with a carving-knife slashed off 
 the tails of the coat of the first, and given him a five-pound note to 
 purchase a new one, he presented the second with a kick, and sent 
 him down stairs for ten pounds worth of silver; and desired the third 
 to bring up pots of porter, two at a time, continually, till further 
 orders. 
 
 The demand for the silver had been obviously anticipated, for the 
 supply was immediate ; and when the required amount, nominally, 
 had been poured into the hat, the hero appeared at the window, and 
 was again hailed with cheers. 
 
 " A scramble ! a scramble ! shouted the masses below, who seemed 
 to know by instinct that a scramble was intended ; for they instantly 
 squared their arms, opened their shoulders, and elbowed each other 
 with the most perfect freedom. Some held up their hats ; but that 
 the hero wouldn't have. " Fair play 1" he exclaimed, " and no tiles !" 
 and no edict was eyer more quickly obeyed. 
 
 The scramble then commenced, and the scene which followed was 
 delightful to behold. Prompted by the sweetest and most beautiful 
 feelings of which the human heart is susceptible, the masses dashed 
 after every handful of silver with a zeal which cou'd not in any cause 
 have been surpassed. If we check emulation, we enervate, if indeed we 
 do not absolutely destroy, the comprehensive mind of man ; and as in a 
 tcramble, the spirit of emulation is most powerfully developed, it 
 
o STANLEY THORN. 
 
 legitimately follows that, for the benefit of the species, scrambles 
 ought to be upheld. This the hero felt strongly, and being deep in 
 the philosophy of scrambling, he on this occasion made his knowledge 
 tell, inasmuch as, instead of strewing his favours right and left, like a 
 man without due discrimination, he directed his attention to one par- 
 ticular point ; and the moment he beheld a few happy individuals 
 luxuriantly rolling in the mud, he pelted them with diligence, that 
 the rest might roll over them, and thus impart general joy. This, 
 however, is not to be accomplished by an inexperienced hand ; it 
 requires great judgment, and a practically acquired knowledge of 
 human nature. It is all very easy, when you have to deal with boys. 
 You may get them down, because their ininds are nofc matured ; but 
 when you have to manage a mass of full-grown men and women, with 
 all their faculties about them, and your object is to make them form 
 a heap, so that, in order to regain their position as first-class animals 
 in creation, they may wriggle and twist in and out like a correspond- 
 ing number of live silver eels, it is absolutely essential for you to 
 have obtained a perfectly clear insight into the workings of the 
 human heart. 
 
 As in this particular instance the active energies of a mighty mind 
 were devoted exclusively to the achievement of this great desideratum, 
 the result was the most complete success ; and no sooner had the 
 laudable efforts of the hero been triumphantly crowned, no sooner had 
 he brought about so happy a. state of things, that a mighty mass of 
 intelligent beings lay entangled, like the Gordia to be found on the 
 banks of the Thames about low-water mark in the mud, than a 
 heart-stirring, ear-piercing, soul- ins pi ring shout, announced the near 
 approach of him who stood second in the estimation of the Sons of 
 Glory. 
 
 As a matter of fair play, the hero instantly retired, and down came 
 the glorious pageant of the rival. It was headed by a talented com- 
 pany of twelve wooden-legged fiddlers, who had been engaged expressly 
 for this occasion, and who scraped away at the overture to " All 
 round my hat" with surprising precision and beauty ; the presence 
 of mind which these professional individuals displayed was remarkable ; 
 and as, by one of their articles of agreement, each was bound to wear 
 a shirt with the right sleeve duly tucked up to the shoulder, in order 
 to give the wrist and elbow full play, there appearance was not only 
 unique and picturesque, but rather solemn than not, while the ex- 
 pression with which each particular tone was produced was excessively 
 delicate and true. Then followed the second Son of Glory himself, 
 majestically seated in a peculiarly constructed triumphal car, which 
 belonged to a hearth-stone and Manders-brick merchant, and which 
 was drawn by six thorough-bred bull-doge, appropriately muzzled.* 
 As he passed, he was hailed with the purest delight ; and although, 
 in point of physical strength, his rival had the advantage, the strength 
 of his moral influence over the multitude, was equal, if not iudeed, 
 superior, to his. Of this he appeared to be perfectly conscious ; and 
 Lence as he rode, strongly supported by a master-sweep at one wheel, 
 
 This was, of course, antecedent to this remarkably aristocratic mode of tra- 
 velling being prohibited by 2 ami 3 Vie , cap. 17, sec. 55. 
 
STANLEY rnoE^ 150 
 
 and a member of the prize-ring, who was a highly distinguished pick- 
 pocket in his early youth, at the other, his heart throbbed with the 
 proudest feelings a mortal can know. The next point of attraction 
 was his suite, in three mud-carts. This had an imposing effect. It 
 consisted of bricklayer's labourers, with their insignia of office, 
 scavengers, nightmen, coster mongers, coach-cads, and sweeps ; and if 
 laughter, unrestrained by the shackles of civilization, bs indicative of 
 happiness, they were the most happy beings upon the face of the 
 earth. Their joy developed itself in one continued roar. It was 
 enchanting to hear them, and beautiful to see them with the utmost 
 familiarity recognize their friends among the multitude. Oh ! there 
 was no paltry pride about them ! Nor was there the least about the 
 glorious and gallant Captain whom they immediately preceded, and 
 who brought up a long line of open cabs, crowded with basket-women, 
 street-sweepers, cobhrs, and journeymen tailors, who form, perhaps, 
 the most interesting class of the genus to which it is said, as a matter 
 of courtesy, they belonged. He was perfectly free from that pitiful 
 sin, and so, indeed, were they all. They all seemed to be inspired 
 with the spirit of independence, which prompted them to treat the 
 conventional forms of society with the most supreme contempt. 
 This, of course, was refreshing. All appeared to enjoy it highly ; 
 and so striking and so varied were the distinguishing features of 
 this pageant, that it was on all hands acknowledged that it beat that 
 of the hero into fits. 
 
 On arriving at head-quarters, the second Son of Grlory alighted 
 from his car, when, with the utmost condecen.^ion, he proceeded to 
 assist his suite to alight ; and, while they who were in the first cart 
 were giving him three enthusiastic cheers, he drew out the pin which 
 secured the body of the cart to the shafts, and shot them out with 
 great ability. The applause which followed this physical develop- 
 ment of his moral influence unhappily gave the signal to the rest of 
 the suite, who did but turn their eyes, and in an instant it was 
 amazing the activity they displayed. They leaped out of the two 
 other vehicles, some over the wheels, some* over the tail-boards, and 
 others over the shafts, with the alacrity of imps ; while the anxiety 
 they exhibited when they saw their noble patron approaching, clearly 
 approved it to be a moment of deep interest to them all. 
 
 On being defeated, so far at least as the spilling of two cart-loads 
 out of the three was concerned, the noble person philosophically 
 took the arms of his two immediate friends, the prize-fighter and the 
 eweep, walked with great deliberation to the bar of the tavern, and 
 thence having ordered all the beer his enraptured followers could 
 drink in an hour proceeded at once to the room of the state, where 
 ho was cheered very loudly, and complimented highly on the taste, 
 tact, and talent he had displayed. 
 
 By this time the majority of the members had arrived, and, as no 
 other pageant was expected, the chief summoned them to the table, 
 and ordered six dozen of champagne to begin with, and, on its being 
 produced, gave " Success to the Sons of Glory !" 
 
 This was, of course, enthusiastically honoured ; and when the ap- 
 plause had become in a measure subdued, one of the intellectual 
 
160 STANLEY 
 
 dustmen was called upon for a song, which he instantly gave with 
 great feeling and grace. His voice was a baritone strictly, but one 
 of extraordinary compass, No tenor could beat him above, no bass 
 could surpass him below ; and as in the course of nature, he had un- 
 consciously got into an infinite variety of keys, it might at the time 
 have been rationally inferred that his organ was about a six and a 
 half octave. 
 
 Immediately after this excellent song, the vice-president the 
 second Son of Glory proposed the health of the chief; a pro- 
 position which was instantly hailed with delight, and, when the toast 
 had been drunk, each member turned his glass down and broke it. 
 
 The noble chief then majestically rose and said, with all due 
 solemnity : " I'll tell you what it is, you're a set of trumps, and 
 that's all about it. {Cheers.) I know you're all made of the right 
 sort of stuff, and there's no mistake about you. {Loud Cheers.) I 
 expect you'll beat the world. (Renewed cheering.) I'm not going 
 to give you a long speech, because I hate it ; so I'll drink all your 
 jolly good healths in return, and may you aiwaj a have power to floor 
 the police !" 
 
 The conclusion of this display of eloquence was honoured with 
 three distinct cheers, after which three deafening groans were given 
 for the police, whom they naturally viewed with ineffable disgust. 
 
 As soon as this mighty demonstration of feeling had subsided, the 
 glorious and gallant Captain, who stood third proposed the health 
 of the vice, of whose virtues he spoke highly ; and when the glasses 
 had bten drained, turned, and broken, as b fore, the noble second 
 Son of Glory rose and delivered himself as follows : 
 
 " My noble friend in the chair said he hated long speeches, so do 
 I ; and that's just why I never go down to the House. If, therefore, 
 you expect to have a long speech from me, all I can say is, I cordially 
 wish you may get it. (Cheers and laughter.) But to the point. 
 You have drunk my health thank you !" that's as good as 
 cutting away for a month. ' Brevity,' as somebody days, Milton, 
 or Moncrief, or one of those author fellows, 'Brevity is the soul 
 of wit.' And it's devilish good, too ; for I like to be brief, and so 
 that's all about it. (Tremendous applattse.) But I say ! perhaps 
 we are not getting on ! here are forty of us ! It strikes me that 
 we shall soon be enabled to boast the possession of forty tons of 
 knockers in a spacious saloon, with the sides completely covered 
 with door-plates, and festooned all round with double rows of hats 
 captured from the great unboiled. (Immense cheering.) What can't 
 we do ? Here's my friend, the clergyman," alluding to his right- 
 hand supporter, the sweep, " has undertaken to stop up in one night 
 the whole of the chimneys in Grosvenor Square " 
 
 " And no mistake!" exclaimed the distinguished individual in 
 question. " There's a mob of pots, no doubt, in that 'ere skweyer ; 
 but that's no odds they shall all be bunged up, and then perhaps 
 there won't be a little smoke in the neighbourhood! Oh\ no! It 
 somehow or another strikes me, there'll be about enough to make 
 bacon of the whole of bilin' !" 
 
 Here the "clergyman" gave an interesting wink, and having 
 
STANLEY THORN. 161 
 
 mixed half a bottle of champagne with a pint of beer, prepared to 
 take a mighty draught as his noble friend resumed. 
 
 " Well, I don't know that I've anything else to say. Chummy's 
 broken thread. But, however, I'll give you success to our order, 
 and down with the police, and a bad night's rest to Bobby Peel." 
 
 This patriotic sentiment was loudly applauded, and various others 
 followed in rapid succession ; but at length Slasher rose, and having 
 introduced Stanley, who was sitting on his right, proposed his health, 
 on the ground that, as their object was to make themselves as power- 
 ful as possible, they ought to hail with pleasure the accession of one 
 whose look was sufficient to prove him to be nothing but an out-and- 
 outer. 
 
 Stanley's health was accordingly drunk, and he felt, of course, 
 flattered ; but he was not exactly the " out-and-outer" they 
 imagined. He had, however, no desire to undeceive them, and there- 
 fore rose, less with the view of acknowledging the toaat than of 
 indulging his taste for that refined subtle irony, in which he began 
 to excel. 
 
 " You will believe," said he, " of course, that I feel highly honoured, 
 not only of this introduction to the true Sons of Grlory, but by the 
 warm, nay I may say the enthusiastic manner in which my name has 
 been received. The pleasure I have experienced in the society of 
 those brilliant persons whom I still see around me, has been great ; 
 but I candidly confess to you that it would have been greater, and fat 
 more pure, had their legitimate sphere of action been more com- 
 prehensive. I presume that this glorious institution is yet but in its 
 infancy. I am prepared to make every allowance for that ; still I 
 must say, that its members do not at present appear to be anything 
 like the trumps I expected to find them." 
 
 " What do you mean ? What do you nn an ?" exclaimed the 
 younger Sons of Glory, who panted for the pleasure of calling him 
 out. 
 
 " I mean," replied Stanley, " that you have done really nothing to 
 immortalise yourselves. Immortality can never be secured by con- 
 fining your operations to knockers and bells !" 
 
 " They have not been thus confined." 
 
 " I admit they have not strictly. You have an elegant variety of 
 door-plates ; but where are all the parochial weather-cocks ? Police- 
 men's hats and truncheons you have in abundance ; but have you 
 ever captured an entire suit of clothes ? You have stopped up 
 chimneys, extinguished the gas, practised beautifully with the air- 
 gun, and wrenched off an orb ; but where is the ladle of Aldgate 
 pump ? where is the shield of Achilles ! The royal pigtail still 
 hangs down the back of the Third Greorge; that sublime work of art, 
 the striking statue of the Fourth, 8tan<i at King's Cross still ; the 
 sceptre of Elizabeth is still in her hand; the bust of her favourite 
 Shakspeare is still in Wych Street ; the pepper-box still adorns the 
 Hoyal Academy ; the Mercury of the Morning Post still stands upon 
 the parapet ; while the ball and cross are still upon the top of St. 
 Paul's ! It is to these things, and all such as these, that I am anxious 
 to direct your attention. Let tfiem be captured, and then we may 
 21 
 
162 STANLEY THORN 1 . 
 
 establish a museum for the private exhibition of oar trophies, with 
 the names of the captors emblazoned thereon, that our children and 
 our children's children, nay, even the remotest posterity, may know 
 that we were Sons of Glory indeed !" 
 
 Before the conclusion of this speech, the fiery malcontents were 
 calmed : but when Stanley resumed his seat the applause was 
 deafening. He had won all their hearts ; he was, in their view, u 
 trump of the first water ; he had opened to them a new field of glory, 
 and had thereby created BO powerful a sensation, that they im- 
 mediately formed themselves into committees, with the view of dis- 
 cussing the practicability of the feats he had suggested. 
 
 This Stanley no sooner perceived than - it being rather late he 
 and Albert, without ceremony departed, and, on leaving the house, 
 entered at large into that broad and strongly-marked distinction 
 which is drawn not by the law, but by those to whom its adminis- 
 tration is intrusted between professional and amateur felons. 
 Albert, of course, would not hear of the " felonious intent ;" he 
 repudiated the notion with scorn ; but Stanley stuck to it with 
 firmness, albeit he admitted that these amateur felons were men 
 whose gentlemanly feelings and refined sensibilities were so acute, 
 that either of them would, without the slightest remorse, shoot the 
 dearest friend he had through the heart if in an unguarded moment 
 he dared to impugn his honour. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Sir William originally felt that he might compass the fall of 
 Stanley when he conceived the design of enriching himself by virtue 
 of reducing him, by " honourable" means, to a state of comparative 
 destitution, he was actuated solely by the vile passion of avarice ; but 
 after having seen and conversed with Amelia, after having been 
 received as a friend, and allowed the privileges of a friend he was 
 inspired with a stronger passion even than that. 
 
 He had proved that Stanley really loved Amelia, and that Amelia 
 most fondly loved him ; but he did not despair of being able, 
 eventually, to bring about a mutual revulsion of feeling, by inducing 
 and cherishing inconstancy on the one hand, and a conviction of 
 wrong on the other. 
 
 He possessed much subtlety ; he had seen much of the world ; he 
 had no inconsiderable knowledge of the workings of the human heart, 
 and more especially conversant was he with the evil passions of which 
 t is susceptible. He knew how powerful an instrument the sense of 
 deep injury was in effecting the destruction of virtue by promoting 
 that terrible feeling of revenge, of which the gratification teems wita 
 
103 
 
 fiightful misery ; and this instrument he resolved to make available, 
 and to use. 
 
 While studying the character of Amelia, while gazing upon her 
 beauty that beauty which intellect and purity of soul when conjoined 
 never fail to impart with an eye whose expression, to one less pure 
 than she, would have plainly pourtrayed the guilty mind, he felt he 
 could not but feel that the attainment of the base object he had 
 proposed would require all the villainous ingenuity at his command ; 
 but this feeling only tended to urge him on the more ; as, in the 
 view of the world, gold is mora valuable than other metala, only 
 because it can be with less facility procured, so in his estimation was 
 Amelia to him. 
 
 The passion by which he was prompted could not be called love. 
 Love is not essentially selfish passion. It embraces the peace of the 
 object beloved. Who that loves seeks to compass the ruin of that 
 object ? Will he, with the view to the gratification of any feeling of 
 self, involve her in moral destruction ? No : he will guard her, ho 
 will cherish her her virtue is his pride ; the promotion of her happi- 
 ness forms the strongest, the dearest wish of his heart ; her honour 
 is as dear to him as his own ; he will lay down his life to preserve it 
 It was not love. It was nothing like love. It was a grovelling, 
 morbid, sensual passion, springing from baseness, to which love never 
 can be allied. What cared he for the feelings of Amelia ? The 
 eternal destruction of her happiness was his aim ; he sought to wean 
 her affection from Stanley, and Stanley's affections from her, by 
 inducing him to form such connexions as those which undermine 
 domestic peace, and thereby causing her to feel that she was indeed 
 neglected. 
 
 His immediate object, therefore, was not alone to enrish himself by 
 impoverishing from Stanley, but to draw him into the vortex of 
 vice ; and, in pursuance of this object, he determined on losing no 
 time. 
 
 " I think I shall cut you," said he, soon after Albert's departure 
 for Cambridge. " It strikes me that you and I must ceate to 
 associate ; for upon my honour you are making me as bad as your- 
 self.' 1 
 
 " What's the matter ?" inquired Stanley. " Anything wrong ?" 
 
 " Wrong ! why, you may not deem it essentially wrong to 
 dr.ig a strictly virtuous man into scenes of dissipation ; but it is, 
 notwithstanding, wrong in the abstract. I admit that my natural 
 disposition is not that of a recluse ; but I used to have a little 
 discretion." 
 
 " And do you ascribe the loss of it to me ?" 
 
 " To whom else can I ascribe it ? * Evil communications corrupt 
 good rnann< rs.' I am not like the same man." 
 
 " I feel flattered, of course," said Stanley. " I scarcely could have 
 supposed that T possessed so much influence." 
 
 " It is a disease," rejoined Sir William, " and that disease is con- 
 tagious. It creeps and grows upon a virtuous man almost imper- 
 ceptibly; it prostrates his energies for business; it renders study n 
 bore. Jt may be, and is, doubtle?s, all very well for you, who have 
 
164! STANLEY 
 
 no pursuit, save that of pleasure ; but for a mnn like mo, having the 
 interests of the nation in general, and those of his constituents in 
 particular to promote, it becomes a very serious affair." 
 
 " So it does," said Stanley, smiling, " and more especially serious 
 to a man that has those interests so deeply at heart as you have. 
 But how have I effected this change? What scenes have I ever 
 drawn you into ?" 
 
 " I scarcely can tell how the change has been effected, nor need I 
 enumerate the scenes into which I have been drawn. It is sufficient 
 for me to know that I never go into any one of them without you, and 
 that were it not for you, I should never go at all. Now, there's a 
 masquerade, or a fancy ball, or something of that sort to-night ; I 
 suppose you have made up your mind to go to that !" 
 
 " I have not even gave it a thought." 
 
 " Nor should I, bad it not been for you. But, of course, you will 
 be there ?" 
 
 " I have no objection to go." 
 
 te I knew that. And you would drag me with you ?" 
 
 " Why, as I should not think of going alone, as your society is 
 at all times so very agreeable " 
 
 " Exactly. You need say no more. But if I go however dazzling 
 may be the scene and I expect it will be rather brilliant I leave 
 precisely at one ; remember that." 
 
 " With all my heart. I have no desire to stop late." 
 
 " Of course you have not. You never have. But let us make 
 up our minds to leave at one, or half-past the very latest." 
 
 " Whenever you are ready, I'll be ready too. But, are we to dress ?" 
 
 " Why it is more of a fancy ball, I believe, than anything else. 
 But we can soon get dresses. Will you call for me at ten ?" 
 
 " I will ; but recollect we leave at one." 
 
 Sir William smiled, and having observed it was really too bad to 
 draw him in scenes, took his leave, with the understanding that they 
 were to start from the Albany at ten. 
 
 He had proved that this ironical style was that which told best 
 with Stanley : he had proved that the highest point of his ambition 
 was to be regarded as a fellow of infinite spirit ; and that, although 
 he seemed to view the idea of his leading as an excellent jest, he in 
 reality felt flattered. He therefore resolved to adhere to this style : 
 his first object being to induce the belief that he was fascinated by 
 Stanley, and that he and not Stanley was the victim. 
 
 And nothing in his judgment could be more easily created than 
 such a belief. He argued thus : every man has vanity ; every man is 
 vain of the real or fancied possession of some particular quality, and 
 his vanity forms his weak point: assail that point by feeding his 
 vanity, and the man is all your own. He had discovered the weak 
 point of Stanley. He well knew the particular quality of which he 
 was vain, and hence felt quite sure of effecting his ruin, which he held 
 to be essential to the achievement of the grand object he had in view. 
 
 Having passed the day with Amelia who now felt inspired with 
 gaiety and joy, for the reconciliation seemed to have perfected her 
 happiness Stanley at the appointed hour called upon Sir William, 
 

 
STANLEY THOKN. 105 
 
 and they soon after started, first to procure their fancy dresses, and 
 then for the gay and dazzling scene. 
 
 On entering the spacious and brilliant saloon, which was crowded 
 with persons who appeared to have been attracted from every civilized 
 part of the globe, Sir William, in the costume of a red-cross knight, 
 was recognised by several "foreigners of distinction," whom he 
 greeted, and in due form presented to Stanley. 
 
 There was not, however, nearly so much spirit displayed as Stanley 
 expected to witness. The scene was certainly splendid and imposing ; 
 but the characters seemed to have assembled not so much for any 
 present enjoyment ns with a view to some prospective advantage. 
 They all appeared to have an ulterior object : the expression of every 
 countenance was indicative of design, which Stanley at first thought 
 strange, but attributing this comparative dulness to the fact of its 
 being yet early, he entered into the business of the scene, and joined 
 the dance with as much gaiety as if the task of reanimating the spirits 
 of the whole assembly had devolved upon him alone. 
 
 " While was thus zealously engaged, Sir William was not inactive ; 
 he was looking for one who he fancied would be a far more suitable 
 partner for his friend than the lady with whom he was dancing, and 
 having found her, and conversed with her privately for a time, he 
 introduced her in most friendly manner to Stanley, of whom she at 
 once became desperately enamoured. Her first object was to fix him 
 as a partner; and in this she succeeded, when, as Stanley felt 
 flattered by the preference she displayed, and as, by virtue of having 
 a constant flow of spirits, she made herself extremely agreeable, he 
 had no wish to change, and they continued to be partners during the 
 whole of the evening. 
 
 Sir William perceived this with pleasure. It gave him immense 
 satisfaction to see Stanley thus playing his game. He knew that he 
 had placed him in accomplished hands, and felt sure that his seduction 
 from the path of honour had been thereby secured. 
 
 " Now," said he, as Stanley and his partner were chatting gaily in 
 the promenade, "you remember : one o'clock." 
 
 " I am ready," replied Stanley, " when you are." 
 
 " Why why !" exclaimed his partner, in amazi-ment, " you do not 
 intend to leave yet !" You must not dream of such a thing. I could 
 not possibly part with you. Besides it would be cruel. If you leave, 
 I am resolved to leave with you. But come, pray take me into 
 supper. You will let me sup with you ? Will you not ? Come I 
 It is a pleasure 1 have been anticipating the whole of the evening : 
 you will not deprive me of that." 
 
 " There is my guide and governor," said Stanley. " I shall be 
 happy to do so if he will grant permission." 
 
 " I knew precisely how it would be," observed Sir William. "I 
 knew that we should never get away at one o'clock. Ho wever, if we 
 are to have supper, we had better have it now. My partner and I 
 will follow ; but recollect, immediatedy after we leave." 
 
 They accordingly repaired to the supper-room at once, and the 
 champagne passed round with great rapidity. The ladies drank with 
 characteristic freedom, and Sir William was constantly filling hia 
 
1GG STANLEY THORN. 
 
 glass ; but Stanley, notwithstanding the repeated challenges he re- 
 ceived, was unusualy cautious. 
 
 Of course, after supper the ladies insisted upon having another 
 dance : one more only one ; they really could not think of leaving 
 without : it was actually indispensable, and as such was assumed to 
 be the case, the consent of their partners was obtained, and they 
 returned to the ball-room, and danced the next set, and the next : in 
 short, they continued to dance until half-past four, when Stanley re- 
 solved to quit the scene a resolution which could not be shaken. 
 
 It was then that Sir William discovered that the project of the 
 evening had failed, for it was then that he ascertained that the 
 partner whom he had selected for Stanley had been unable to prevail 
 upon him to make an appointment, or even to promise that he would 
 see her again. He was, notwithstanding, pleased that he had taken 
 him there : indeed, having on the instant conceived the design of 
 causing a tale to reach the ears of Amelia based upon the fact of his 
 having been present, he fancied that his purpose might be answered 
 as well, although he would most decidedly have preferred Stanley's 
 absolute fall. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 YENEHABLE JOE PROMULGATES HIS MATHLMONIAL TIEWS. 
 
 As Bob, very early in the evening on which Sir William designed to 
 lay the foundation of Stanley's ruin, ascertained that he should not 
 be again wanted, he put up his horses, made himself truly tidy, and 
 then went to have a few hours' confidential conversation with Vene- 
 rable Joe, whom he held in high esteem. 
 
 Bob scarcely could tell how it was that he respected that venerable 
 gentleman so highly, although it may with perfect safety be attributed 
 to the fact of his morality being strictly correct, while his deport- 
 ment was perfectly gentleman-like and free ; but he certainly did 
 regard him as a very superior sort of an individual, one from whom 
 much valuable knowledge might be gleaned, and with whom a man of 
 honour might associate without having his reputation either tarnished 
 or impugned. 
 
 On the other hand, Venerable Joe had inspired an exalted appreci- 
 ation of Bob's integrity. He knew that his moral principles were 
 sound, inasmuch as he had paid like a peer of the realm for the 
 brandy-and-water he lost on the Derby. But, independently of this 
 although this was the cement, for if Bob could not have paid for 
 that brandy-and-water, their friendship, of course, must have been at 
 an end he admired his intellectual acquirements, as he had wit- 
 nessed their development in the tap, where Bob actually once put a 
 man down who was canvassing the conduct of Alexander the Great ; 
 
STANLEY THORN. 1G7 
 
 and therefore, whenever they met, they met as friends bosom 
 friends friends bound to each other for life. 
 
 On this occasion, to show the strength and virgin purity of the 
 friendship which had sprung up between them, Bob no sooner beheld 
 Venerable Joe thn he struck a very highly -approved pugilistic 
 attitude, and the venerable gentleman struck another, and they 
 sparred with great science for more than ten minutes in really the 
 most affectionate manner possible. 
 
 " Veil, my leetle lily !" exclaimed the venerable gpntleman, who 
 was the first to drop his arms, " and wot is the werdict ? Hay ! ' o\v 
 do you bring it in now ?" 
 
 " Never better," replied Bob. " How's yourself?" 
 
 " Hif it warn't for them roornatiz ! Them's the on'y things as 
 wexes my sentiments. But ve're all on us safe to 'ave somethink ! 
 The be^t vay 's to look at things fillysophocle, and then they don't 
 seem nothiiik like wot they are." 
 
 " That's somewhere about the average, I believe," observed Bob. 
 " But how long will it be afore you 're done ?" 
 
 " Xot the space of a instant. Go over to the tap, and I'll be with 
 you in a leetle less than no time." 
 
 Bob did so, and was soon after joined by his venerable friend, 
 when they entered deeply into the discussion of various subjects, 
 and eventually touched upon that of matrimony as it stands. 
 
 "Are you a Benediction ?" inquired Bob. 
 
 The venerable gentleman scratched his head, and looked precisely 
 as if a slight explanation would be pleasant. 
 
 " A Benediction ! You know what I mean, you know. "Was you 
 ever m armed ?" 
 
 " Not if I know it," said Venerable Joe" not a ha'porth of it ! 
 No, no ; I never vos guilty of that. But why didu't you put it in 
 the right p'int of wiew ? Why didn't you arst if I ever vos mad ? I 
 shood then a huuderstood it ; 'cos to be married is to be mad !" 
 
 " Under all circumstancials ?" inquired Bob. 
 
 " Why, hif you 've enough, you know, for to keep a missis, and to 
 6ring up a whole mob of leetle individuals respectable, it mayn't be 
 so bad ; but, onless a man is gifted \\ith a hindependent business he 
 don't ought to do it. He'd better p'ison hisself out-and-out. But 
 you never dream of marrying ?" 
 
 " Why, I don't know ; I do sometimes think it would be pleasant." 
 
 "Pleasant!" cried the venerable gentleman. "But, in course, 
 you 're on'y joking ?" 
 
 " No ; as true as I'm. alive I'm quite serious." 
 
 " You are ? Then jist let me give you a leetle adwice. Turn the 
 hidear clean out of your *ed. Don't have it ! Marriage is a swindle : 
 it 's a reg'lar himposition. It 'd all wery well, p'raps, for gen'elmen 
 to marry, 'cos, in course, they can wery well stand the hexpence, and 
 it makes good for servants ; but for us to think of doing sich a 
 thing ! it 's no go : mark my words, it 's no go. The gals, in course, 
 have a nat'ral right to ketch us, if they can; but we don't ou^ht to 
 be cotcheii. It's a dead take in. Besides, marriage spilt s the gals. 
 Vile you 're a-courtin' on 'tin, butter von't uiclt in their IHouthd ; 
 
1C8 STANLEY TIIOR3T. 
 
 they dress nice, and speak nice, and know how to behave : but, 
 directly you get 'em home they let you know vot 's o'clock. That 'a 
 the p'int. Then instead of sweet vords, smiles, and sutterer, you 've 
 nothing but blowin's up, black looks, and bounce. Then 's ven they 
 lets their tongues loose. It 's then ven they show off, and lets you see 
 the difference. They know they 're all right. You can't help your- 
 self then. They seta you at defiance. You may take your change 
 out of it, and go and do your best and your vust : try all you know, 
 1 .here 's no gettin' rid on 'em. Vot is it, then, but a dead take in ? 
 Yot is it but a reg'lar out-and-out himposition ? If I buy an 'oss to 
 go quiet in 'arness, and ven I gets him home I finds the warmint full 
 of wice, is it anythink but a swindle ? And, vot is it but a swindle 
 ven I marries a gal vich variants herself to be a good un, and turns 
 out a bad un ?" 
 
 " But they are not all alike ?" suggested Bob. 
 
 " I don't know. They're pooty much of a muchness, take 'em out 
 of the kitchen. If you're always flush o' money, you may manage to 
 get along with a few on 'era, praps ; but the moment you happen to 
 be short, they begin to let out. Cooks, however, them's the wannant ; 
 I'll back 'em to beat the vorld. There ! if I had my time to come 
 over agin, and a cook and a bottle of pison vos putt afore me, if I vos 
 obligated for to take iather the one or the tother, I'd svaller the 
 p'ison with joy." 
 
 " But there's some cooks a decenfcish sort," ur^ed Bob. 
 
 " Not a single indiwidual one among 'em. They're a werry queer 
 lot, and as a lot they do make the warmentist of wives upon the face 
 of the earth. But s'pose a man does get a decentish one not a cook, 
 for that's clean out of natur' but s'pose he happens to get hold of a 
 fairish piece o' go. ds, vot's his 'appiness? Hindependence the joy 
 of his life's gone. He can't go out arout ketchin' it ven he gets 
 back. If he meets with a friend, he mustn't stop vith that friend ; 
 nay ther must he bring him home, onless he vonts to have him hin- 
 sulted. He may call hisself muster of his own crib if he likes ; but 
 vot a man calls hisself under them there circumstantials is a werry 
 different thing from vot he is. It's the cruellest specie of slavery in 
 natur'. Tork o' the black Africans ! And then the expense : that's 
 another himpositioiu They tell yer, in course, vere one can live a 
 couple can live. It's a reg'lar do a cruel do ! The expenses is safe 
 to increase. You can't go out arout a doublin' on 'em, no how. 
 On'y try Gravesend jist for instance. Hindependent of the expense 
 of riggin' out and there's safe to be somethink or 'nother vonted 
 there's a couple o' shiilin's there ; that's got to be doubled ; a couple 
 o' shiilin's back ; that's gob to be doubled ; a couple o' dinners, a 
 couple o' teas in short, a couple of every indiwidual thing. Call for 
 a glass of gin-and- water : why it's gone afore you know vere you are ! 
 They can't drink afore marriage. Oh, no ! they can on'y jist breathe 
 upon the hedge o' the glass ; but von't they dip into it arter ! And 
 then it's 'Lor! how oncommon fast you do drink! I ain't scarce 
 putt my lips to it rayley !' Vot are you to do ? You can't help 
 yourself! You call for another, vich goes the same road !" 
 
 " Is that a fact ?' ' inquired Bob, who was very incredulous. 
 
STANLEY THORN. 169 
 
 " The married life's loaded witlicuss2s," rejoined Ins venerable friend. 
 
 " But arst them that are married. "What do they say about it ?" 
 
 " Say ! They ought to be ashamed of themselves to go for to try 
 to swindle people into the belief that they are 'appy. They ought to 
 know better. That's another himposition. They none on 'em speak 
 the real sentiments of their minds. They on'y do it out of a specie of 
 rewenge. It's on'y cos they're in the mud themselves, and vant 
 heverybody else to tumble in over head an' ears arter them, that's all." 
 
 " But you don't mean to say that there's none on 'em happy ? 
 Look at my master and missis, for instance !" 
 
 " Veil, look at your master ve'll leave out the missis, cos marriage 
 vas 'er game, and she vim it but look at your master it's different 
 with genelmen, as I said afore, but look at 'im ! Ain't he a hobjecb 
 of suspicion ! ain't the old General been set on to keep a eye upon 
 'im ? ain't hevery move on 'im watched r" 
 
 " Is it though, really ?" inquired Bob. 
 
 " I know it! I know it from our butler, vich is a good feller, and 
 never keeps anything from us. The werry last time the Captain 
 dined there, they vos torkin' about 'im ; but they're allus a-sayin' vot 
 a racketty buffer he'll be, if he ain't looked werry sharp arter. So 
 vot's become of Ins hindependence, vith a spy upon all 'is hactions!" 
 
 "I don't at all like that," said Bob; "in my mind it ain't the 
 ticket ; and I'll just put him up to it. It's a delicate p'int ; but I'll 
 do it." 
 
 " He ought to be put up to it. It ain't by no manner o' means 
 the thing. But don't you think he'd better ha' been as he vos ?" 
 
 " "Why, you see, there's a p'int," replied Bob. " You see master 
 loves missis, which makes all the odds." 
 
 " Love !" rejoined Venerable Joe, sarcastically. " Love's a him- 
 position. There's been more people imposed upon by that air vord 
 than by all the perfessioual swindlers in natur'. It's a gross, a 
 uniwersal ^imposition ; and it's on'y werry wonderful to me that it 
 ain't long ago been hexpunged. A gal says she loves yer. AVcrry 
 well ; but are you consequentially obligated for to make a fool o' your- 
 self ? No : you're only got her hipsydixy, and vot's the good o' 
 that ? Marry her ; and you'll werry soon see * 'ow sweet's the love 
 as meets return.' But arout that, look ear on'y jist for hinstanct3 : a 
 gal loves a soger, vich they all do ; it's reg'lar : he's a private ; still 
 she loves 'im oh ! hout an' hout ! AVerry well ; don't yer think 
 she'd give 'im up fur a hofficer ? In course she vood ! And why ? 
 why, cos it 'ud be a better chance. Has for love, it's the vickedest, 
 the swiudiinest himposition as is. The chances is vot gals looks out 
 for. The on'y qvestion with them is, * Is it a good chance ? If it is, 
 they'll have it ; if it ain't they von't, onless they can't get nothink 
 better. It's the deadest take in, is that love, ever heered on : a 
 deader do never vos hinwented. You take my adwice, and don't be 
 foozled. Venever you 'ear the vord love, alvays wiew it as a gross 
 himposition. Hif yer don't you'll be done, and on'y find out the 
 difference ven it's too late. Look at me, jist for hinstauce. I was 
 sixty-two in Jannerwerry last : look at that! Sixty-two, and ain't 
 done yet. I'm iawited to all tlie parties. I'm never forgot, There'a 
 22 
 
170 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 the old ims, as is single, a-hoglin' on me reg'lar ; and the old una, as 
 is married, a-stttin' their darters upon me ; it 'ud be sich a chance! 
 and all, in course, cos I'm single. Why, d' yer think they'd care 
 about my company perwided I vos mairied? ' Does it stand at ail 
 to reason they'd iuwite me as they do, hit' they didn'b believe I vrs 
 yet to he done ? Not a bit of it ! not if I vos vorth a matter o' fifty 
 times as much as 1 ham. But, as it is, as I've allr.s escaped the 
 himposition there atn I, never missed, allus thought on, looked up 
 to, and respected ; vhich, let me tell you, is a werry great ad wantage. 
 By the bye, I'll introduce you ; you must go to one of our con- 
 wersayshoneys." 
 
 " What's that ?" inquired Bob. 
 
 " Vot ? conwersayshouey ? A slap sort of supper, in course. 
 They're a-going to have another at Sir Hamilton Hideaways, vich is 
 gone abroad oiitil things comes a leetle bit round. He's a mean un 
 to himself, but his servants is trump?. None but single men's 
 admitted. Vill you go ?" 
 
 Bob promised that he would ; and at the same time announced 
 that nothing could give him greater pleasure ; but the arguments of the 
 venerable gentleman, powerful and pointed though they were, failed 
 to convince him that marriage was a thing to be Despised. But that 
 which made a far deeper impression upon his nr'n<l, than anything 
 else which had transpired during the discussion of this generally- 
 interesting subject, was the fact of his having been informed that hia 
 master was subjected to a system of espionage, which was, in his 
 private judgment, excessively wrong, and therefore he held it to be 
 incumbent upon him, as a true and faithful servant, to acquaint h ; s 
 master with it the very first opportunity, in order that he might 
 thenceforth be upon his guard. He felt it, of course, to be rather a 
 nice point for him to mention ; but conceiving it to be strictly a 
 thing which ought to be known, he firmly made up his mind to 
 impart that knowledge ; and, with many impression of high con- 
 sideration, took leave of his venerable friend for the night. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 STANLEY'S ELEVATION IK TUB SOCIAL SCALE 
 
 As Sir William's game was to have recourse to everything tending 
 to promote Stanley's absence from Amelia, he now flew to billiards, 
 at which he had been an adept for years, and by which he knew that 
 Stanley could not fail to be attracted. Stanley knew nothing of the 
 game ; but Sir William, in the most friendly manner, of course, un- 
 dertook to teach him ; and the immediate result of that teaching 
 was, that the pupil became fascinated. Night after night, he was at 
 it till day-break. He thought of nothing, dreamt of nothing but 
 
STANLEY TIIOBtf. 171 
 
 laying out, cannoning, and pocketing the red ; he was never, indeed, 
 happy without a queue in his haud. Whether Sir William were 
 with him or not, and he frequently was not ; for, embracing the 
 opportunity which, his absence afforded, he would call for him at 
 home, with the view of conversing with Amelia he was every 
 evening to be found at the table. He had continually some match 
 on hand, with the specious and highly accomplished persons whom 
 he met and few scoundrels are more accomplished than the higher 
 order of billiard sharps and who, by virtue of flattery and " tender" 
 treatment, fleeced him of largo sums of money. Still he would play. 
 The more he lost, the more capable he felt himself of winning ; and 
 with so much ingenuity and judgment was it managed, that he nofc 
 only never entertained a moment's thought of being victimised, bub 
 proposed increased stakes every game, to which they invariably, but 
 of course with great reluctance, consented. 
 
 When this had gone on for some time, Amelia felt unhappy, and 
 more especially, in consequence of having received an anonymous 
 lette;-, which contained intimations prejudicial to Stanley's reputation 
 as a fond and faithful husband, and of which sho could not help 
 thinking, although, at the time, she destroyed it with contempt. 
 Still she never reproached. Evening after evening was he absent, 
 while she, in tears, was tortured by the thousand apprehensions with 
 which, under the circumstances, solitude teems ; but on his return, she 
 invariably flew to him and blessed him, and welcomed him horn 3 
 with a smile of j -iy. No lear was ever visible then ; no word which 
 could indicate doubt was ever breathed. If he offered to apologies, 
 she would stop him with a kiss, while her eyes beamed with con- 
 fidence and love. 
 
 Weeks passed, and Bob had not had what he deemed a fair oppor- 
 tunity of imparting to Stanley the information he had obtained, 
 touching the watch that had been set upon his actions. At length, 
 however, an excellent one offered, and he embraced it. They were 
 returning fro.n a shooting-match at the time, and he ceriainly did 
 think, as he sat in the cab, that his master, who had spoken to him 
 familiarly several times on the road, was in the true state of mind to 
 ente tain a grateful sense of his kindness. 
 
 " I beg pardon, air," s lid he, after calling up all the moral courage 
 he had in him. " I beg pardon I hope you won't think it a liberty ; 
 but I've got something, sir, on my sentiments, which I think it my 
 duty to let you know on." 
 
 " Well, Bob," said Stanley, what is it ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, it's I know it's a d licate p'int, and one which, 
 possible, I don't ought to name ; but I think it a duty as I owe " 
 
 " Out with it !" cried Stanley. " Let's have it at once." 
 
 " Well, sir ; you see Greneral Johnson which is a genelman ; but 
 I hope you won't name it again, 'cause I'm bound as a matter of 
 honour." 
 
 " Well ! and what of General Johnson ?" 
 
 " Why, sir it's only that you may be avvarca ; I only do it to put 
 you on your guard." 
 
 " Put me on my guard ! What do you mean ?" 
 
172 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 " "Why, sir, as I hear from the servants which told me, that General 
 Johnson and the Captain is spies upon all you do." 
 
 -Stanley looked at him fiercely, and in an instant, Bob saw that he 
 had made a mistake. 
 
 "How dare yon," cried Stanley, "name a subject of this kind to 
 me? :> 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, I hope you won't 
 
 " Silence, sir ! Never let me hear another syllable upon this or 
 any other subject, in which you are not concerned, pass your lips." 
 
 Bob shrunk instinctively into the most remote corner of the cab, 
 and scarcely breathed ; but of all the base and glaring acts of in- 
 gratitude he had ever heard, or read of in history, either ancient or 
 modern, he held this to be, beyond all dispute, the most glaring and 
 the most baee. 
 
 " "What !" thought he, privately, and in the strictest possible con- 
 fidence for he felt that any public expression of his sentiments 
 would be, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, inexpedient 
 "what ! Is it a dream, or is it a boney-fide wide-awake fact that a 
 master can be found on the face of the blessed earth to behave so 
 reg'lar ongrateful ? "Warn't it all for his own good? "Was it any- 
 thing to me? Didn't I name it fur his own blessed self? And 
 does he think, does he hope, does he expect that I'll ever, wh ; le I've 
 brtath in my body, tell him anything again ? Not if I know it ; not 
 if I was to live on and on in his service ontil I was as old as 
 Jerusalem !" 
 
 He was amazed! It was so monstrous ! Nothing in the simili- 
 tude of indignation could exceed his in strength ; but he kept it 
 down tightly. He scorned to give it vent ; for, whenever he looked 
 at the monster of ingratitude out of the off corner of his eye, he 
 perceived that his aspect was strikingly ferocious. 
 
 On reaching home, Stanley whom Bob's information, for more 
 than one reason, had angered was met by Amelia, who, with dancing 
 eyes, joyfully explained to him, that during his absence, the Captaiu 
 had sent him as a present, the most elegant billiard-table she had 
 ever beheld. 
 
 "A billiard-table!" cried Stanley, with a scowl. "How did 7/<* 
 know that I ever play at billiards ?" 
 
 " My dearest love !" said Amelia, " I really do not know ; but I 
 suppose papa fancied you were fond of the game, as many gentlemen 
 are!" 
 
 "He "knew that I was fond of the game," cried Stanley. 
 
 " Then was it not, my love, the more kind of him to send it ?" 
 
 "Amelia, I have no wish to quarrel with your father ; but I would 
 have both him and the General understand, that I hold in abhorrence 
 the character of a spy !" 
 
 " My Stanley," cried Amelia, who violently trembled, " what is it 
 you mean ?" 
 
 " That table shall go back ! I'll not have it." 
 
 " Oh ! do not return it, pray pray do not return it ! You will 
 not? My dearest my Stanley. You will let me have some influ- 
 ence over you ? I know you will. Consider how terrible it will be 
 
BTAHLEY THOBK. 173 
 
 if this present be uot accepted. Consider it was an act of pure kind- 
 ness, and ought not to be spurned. Come, you -will not for my 
 sake you will not return it !" 
 
 " I will not submit to be treated like a child. I will not in silence 
 be subjected to the pitiful system of which your father and his 
 friend seem to be so much enamoured." 
 
 " My love, you have been misinformed on some point, I am sure of 
 it. I know my dear father to be incapable ay, my Stanley 
 incapable of any act of meanness or dishonour. But come, my love, 
 be calm. Be sure that you have been misinformed. Be sure of it, my 
 Stanley. I am as conscious of his integrity as I am, my dear, of 
 yours ; and I feel that I could answer for either with my life. But 
 you will not, you will not even think of returning the table ?" 
 
 Stanley was silent. He suffered himself to be caressed and 
 reasoned with calmly, and the result was, that the table remained ; 
 but he was still highly indignant with the Captain, and could scarcely 
 be prevailed upon to refrain from sending him what lie deemed a 
 proper, but which would have been in reality, a most insulting letter. 
 
 Sir William watched the progress of these events the whole of 
 which became known to him as they occurred with delight ; but 
 the nearer his infamous design upon the honour of Amelia approached, 
 in his view, perfection, the more strongly did he feel that his 
 advances must be not only gradual, but imperceptible, to succeed. 
 He still had frequent opportunities of conversing with her alone 
 for Stanley's matches with the sharps still went on, and he was con- 
 stantly absent ; but his studied distance increased with each v's t, 
 his respect for her apparently became more and more profound. 
 
 At length he decided upon taking another specious step, which, 
 while it directly tended to ensure Amelia's applause, would have the 
 effect, in a pecuniary sense, of materially accelerating Stanley's ruin. 
 
 He, of course, knew the character of Stanley well ; for the pro- 
 motion of his own purposes he had studied it deeply. He, therefore, 
 knew that any proposition calculated to enable him to gain casto in 
 society, would be seized with avidity, and carried out, as far as it 
 could be carried out by him, with gladness. His plans were accord- 
 ingly laid ; and when perfected, he opened his views to Amelia, as far, 
 at least, as he desired them to appear. 
 
 " I wish," said he, "that Stanley," of whose absence from home 
 they had now been speaking, " had something more to occupy his 
 mind; some study, some honourable pursuit. I am sure that he 
 would feel much more settled than he does. Do you not think that 
 if he had some object in view besides the mere pleasure of the day, 
 it would be better ? Tor instance, suppose he were in Parliament ? 
 For my own part, I should like to see him in the House." 
 
 " Is that practicable ?" inquired Amelia. 
 
 " Most certainly ; and not only practicable, but easily to be 
 accomplished." 
 
 "Dear me, I should like it above all things. Have yon ever 
 named the subject to him ?" 
 
 " Never. I scarcely knew whether it would be agreeable to you." 
 " Oh ! I should be delimited." 
 
174 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 " Then, of course, I will name it." 
 
 " Pray do, and urge it strongly ; but I am sure that he will be 
 overjoyed. I feel convinced that the idea is one which he never 
 entertained." 
 
 " Well, then, let me see, to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh ! to-morrow you will dine with us at his mamma's." 
 
 "Of course. I'll bring the subject forward then. It will lean 
 excellent opportunity. His mother, I should say, will have but 
 little objection ?" 
 
 " Oh ! she will be in raptures ; I am sure of it. Pray do not 
 forget it." 
 
 " I will not. Nor will I forget to ascertain in the mean time what 
 places are likely to be open. There are two new writs about to be 
 moved for, I know ; but I'll inquire farther into the matter, and 
 come to-morrow, prepared with every necessary information." 
 
 Amelia thanked him again aud again. She indeed felt grateful to 
 him for the interest which he apparently took in Stanley's welfare, 
 and not only during the day, but throughout the night, dwelt with 
 ecstacy upon the prospect which opened to her view. She was sure 
 that her Stanley would distinguish himself in Parliament ; she was 
 certain that his speeches would be brilliant in the extreme! And 
 then the delight she shouM experience in reading those speeches, 
 interspersed with "cheers," "loud cheers," "enthusiastic cheering !" 
 and then, " the honourable member resumed his seat amidst 
 thunders of applause!" Oh! it would be so delightful. She shed 
 tears of rapture. Her woman's heart swelled with joy and pride. 
 And then, after a t'me, he would be in the cabinet a Bight Honour- 
 able! the Bight Honourable Gentleman the Bight Honourable 
 Member the Bight Honourable Stanley Thorn ! And then the 
 Prime Minister ! the Premier of England ! the right hand of 
 Boyalty loaded with honours, dining daily at the Palace ! Could 
 anything surpass it ? And if talent could win them, these honours 
 would be won ; for who possessed the talent of her Stanley ? It was 
 a noble prospect ! a glorious prospect ! a prospect on which she 
 delighted to dwell. But on the following day, when the subject was 
 renewed, her views were altogether eclipsed by the widow, who saw 
 with unparalleled distinctness, that Stanley would in less than six 
 mouths be created a Peer. 
 
 "And what," inquired Stanley, when the subject had been 
 explained, " do you suppose would be about the expense of my 
 election?" 
 
 " The expenses," replied Sir William, " are in all cases governed in 
 the first place by the nature of the opposition, and in the next bv 
 the character of the electors. Some constituencies are comparatively 
 pure, while others are grossly corrupt, and require an. immense deal 
 of management, treating, and so on." 
 
 "Oh! treat them by all means," cried the widow. "Do not 
 think about the cost. Let them have anything they like. Let them 
 eat and drink, and shout ! I think I hear them ! And then, w r !:ea 
 Stanley ia chaired through the to.vn, followed by the crowd of 
 devoted electors, and bowing to all around, while from every window 
 
STANLEY THOBJf. 175 
 
 hats and handerchiefs are waving, and in every street bands of music 
 are playing, and the cannon roaring, and the people shouting, and 
 Oh ! will it not be a joyous scene ! And then, my love," she added, 
 addressing Amelia, "we'll have the chair covered with rihbons; and 
 favours in the hats and the bosoms of the people, and banners, and 
 streamers, and triumphal arches, and wreaths extending from house 
 to house ; and then we'll have twelve virgins dressed all in white, 
 strewing flowers in the road ; and then the balls, and then " 
 
 " That; is," said Stanley, " in the event of my gaining the election." 
 
 "Exactly, my love; but these things must be previously settled 
 and prepared. It will never do at all to drive them off till the last. 
 Besides, I feel as certain as I am of my own existence that you have 
 but to start to succeed. Amelia and I will go and canvass ourselves, 
 which will be so glorious ! * For whom do you vote, my good man ?' 
 Some may reply, Mr. Smith,' or whatever the name of the opposition 
 candidate may be. ' Oh ! dear me, no,' we shall say ; ' yon must vote 
 for Mr. Thorn; he's such a clear! such an extremely nice person !' 
 And then we'll make the children a present, and kiss them, and oh ! 
 we'll manage it, my love. But you must give us our instructions." 
 
 "Yes, yts, mother, yes," said Stanley, checking the enthusiastic 
 widow ; " you shall have every instruction, everything shall be as 
 3011 wish; but there are certain preliminary matters which had 
 better be settled first." 
 
 He and Sir William then entered into thosa matters seriously ; 
 but as they were immensely too dull for the widow, she and Amelia 
 retired, with the view of making such arrangements as were in their 
 judgment eminently calculated to give eclat to Stanley's return. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVII. 
 
 IK WHICH STANLEY PREPARES TO BECOME THE SUCCESSOB OP A 
 PECULIARLY HONOURABLE M.P. 
 
 THE project of getting Stanley into Parliament, involving, as it did, 
 Buch high considerations, and opening a prospect so brilliant, was of 
 course soon communicated by Amelia to the Captain and General, 
 both of whom at once resolved to call into action all their energies, 
 with the view of ensuring success. They naturally regarded it aa a 
 thing well calculated to fix the principles and to enlarge the views of 
 him whom they held in high esteem, and for whom they were ardently 
 anxious to do all in their power. They saw and conversed with him. 
 frequently on the subject, and were delighted with the talent he dis- 
 played ; for while he explained his political predilections with great 
 clearness and point, his mode of expression was peculiarly forcible 
 and suasive. 
 
 Still he preserved a certain coldness, a distance, which neither the 
 Captain nor the Greneral could understand. They applied to Amelia } 
 
176 
 
 but all the information they could obtain from her was that he had 
 been on some point misinformed. She at the same time begged of 
 them earnestly to take no further notice of the matter, assuring them 
 that the impression would soon wear off, and be thought of no more. 
 
 Conscious, however, of the integrity of his motives, the Captain 
 could not allow a false impression to exist : and therefore resolved to 
 have the point cleared up. 
 
 " My good fellow," said he, addressing Stanley in the presence of 
 the General, " I may be mistaken: but there does not appear to be 
 that warmth of feeling, that unqualified friendship existing between 
 us which I am anxious to cultivate. If I am mistaken I shall be 
 happy ; if not, state at once and unreservedly what it is, that the 
 thing may be explained." 
 
 " Captain," said Stanley, " as you wish me to state what it is with- 
 out reserve, I will do so. I have understood that you and the General 
 have assumed to yourselves the office of spies " 
 
 " Spies !" exclaimed the General ; " employ some other term." 
 
 " I know no other term so applicable." 
 
 " Sir, I will not allow any man breathing to apply a term so oppro- 
 brious to me." 
 
 "I am glad," rejoined Stanley with the most perfect coolness, 
 ' that you consider it opprobrious, although it simply proves that 
 n, en can bear to do that of which they cannot bear to be told." 
 
 " I beg that you will instantly explain," said the General, " I do 
 not understand this language : it is not the tone to which I have been 
 accustomed." 
 
 " It may not be, and yet I know of no other tone which, under 
 the circumstances, ought to bs assumed. Do you look upon me as a 
 child ?" 
 
 " I look upon you, sir, as a hot-brained, impetuous, insulting young 
 clog, who one of these days will bs called out and shot through the 
 he.id. Why, my father had his eye upon me until I was fifty ! he " 
 
 Here the General, suddenly paused : he recollected that Stanley 
 had no father, and on the instant extended his hand, and assured him 
 that he had spoken without a thought, and that he would not wan- 
 tonly wound his feelings, for the world. He conceived that he had 
 touched that chord which commonly vibrates with a pang through 
 the heart, and therefore felt it acutely, being perfectly unconscious of 
 the fact that the feelings of Stanley had not been touched at all. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said the Captain, as Stanley looked as frowningly 
 as if the General's conjecture had been correct, " you must not mis- 
 interpret our motives. We are anxious for your welfare ; you will 
 readily believe that. On my part that anxiety may appear to be not 
 only natural, but interested, seeing that the happiness of my child is 
 involved ; bub on the part of the General it springs from a feeling of 
 friendship, the disinterested purity of which cannot be impugned. 
 You must not suppose that because we manifest that anxiety, we 
 come under the harsh denomination of spies." 
 
 " That is all very well," replied Stanley ; "but I hate to have my 
 actions watched: not, I would have you understand, that I am 
 ashamed of those actions, but because it not only displays a want of 
 
STANLEY THOKN. 177 
 
 confidence, but places me at once in the position of a fool. That 
 which I detest is its going forth to the world that I require to be 
 sharply looked after, as if I were, forsooth ! an idiot or child. It ia 
 the publication of that to the world of which I more especially coin- 
 plain." 
 
 " But we have never published this to the world." 
 
 " It has been published. It is the common talk even of the 
 servants." 
 
 "The servants 1" said the Captain with a smile. " I'll not for a 
 moment suppose that you attach the least importance, or even pay 
 the slightest attention, to the common talk of servants. But come, 
 come, don't let us pursue this subject ; I beg of you to believe that 
 our object is not to annoy you by any unnecessary display of anxiety, 
 but, on the contrary, to cultivate a friendly, an affectionate feeling, 
 and to promote your happiness by all the means at our command." 
 
 The proposal to drop the subject at the time met Stanley's views, 
 for he had certainly no desire to have it known that he had derived 
 his information from Bob. Not another word was therefore said 
 about the matter : the Captain at once turned to the task he had 
 proposed, that of convincing Stanley of the expediency of adopting 
 those political principles to which he and the G-eneral adhered. But 
 Stanley experienced great difficulty in making up his mind. His bias 
 was decidedly in favour of those principles ; but Sir William, by 
 whom he was disposed to be guided, was on the opposite side. Cir- 
 cumstances, however, by which political decisions are invariably 
 governed, led him to decide at once against his own bias, and there- 
 fore in favour of Sir William's views. 
 
 Mr. Trueman, a friend of Sir William, wishing to retire from public 
 life altogether, was about to apply for the very last office which M.P.'s 
 in general are disposed to accept, and the very first which ministers, 
 if they have any patriotic feeling or generosity in them, are anxious 
 to confer upon a political opponent. This office, which is one of those 
 sinecures that have not even yet been abolished, is called the Chiltern 
 Hundreds. It is not in itself very lucrative, but it has been never- 
 theless the foundation of many fortunes : many have in consequence 
 been raised to the baronetage of England, and many moreover to the 
 peerage. Promotion, however, it must, as a matter of common 
 justice be stated, was not the object of Mr. Trueman. He was a 
 gentleman whose party had treated him with the most glaring in- 
 gratitude ; indeed, so extremely base had been their conduct, that all 
 virtuous persons will admit that it ought to be held up to universal 
 execration. 
 
 For two-and-twenty years he had been a member of the Imperial 
 Parliament. He had never been known to take an active part in any 
 debate, or to be absent from any important division; nor during the 
 whole of his brilliant career did he ever give the slightest offence to 
 his constituents, there being the most perft ct unanimity of principle 
 and feeling amongst them, an extraordinary fact, which was probably 
 attributable, in some slight degree, to the circumstance of the con- 
 stituency of the highly-gifted borough he had for six consecutive 
 parliaments the honour to represent, consisted of a peculiarly thickset 
 23 
 
178 
 
 hedge, and two barns of remarkable antiquity. But even when his 
 constituents became more numerous, by virtue of a memorable Act, 
 he might have defied them to charge him with any desertion of prin- 
 ciple, consistency being a thing upon which he prided himself 
 especially, and which was indeed quite incapable of being assailed. 
 He invariably voted with his party. If even any remarkably rich vein 
 of reasoning happened to seduce him into the belief that his political 
 friends must be wrong, he would stick to them still with the most 
 admirable tenacity, repudiating all faith in the soundness of his own 
 judgment, rather than consent on any point to desert them. He was 
 indeed in this respect immutable : he felt, and very naturally, that h.3 
 had but one course to pursue, that of following his leader through 
 thick and thin ; and from that, neither arguments, fears, nor en- 
 treaties, could ever induce him to swerve. At the period of his 
 marriage he was wedded to his political principles, and his faithful 
 adherence to them wag probably attributable more to a fond regard 
 for the memory of her from whom he had imbibed them, than to any 
 very powerful conviction of their purity and practical virtue. The 
 fruit of this marriage was a son ; but his principles yielded no fruit : 
 they were at all events barren to him. They might, had he trimmed 
 but a trifle, have been productive ; but he was far too firm a supporter 
 of his party to render it necessary for the slightest attention to be 
 paid to his claims. His estate was barely sufficient for his support 
 in the style to which he had ever been accustomed, and he therefore 
 had a highly correct paternal anxiety about a handsome provision 
 for his son; but there were always at that interesting period of 
 British history so many patriots whose adherence had in some way 
 or other to be secured, there was never a particle of patronage left 
 for those upon whom the most perfect reliance could be placed. His 
 son had been waiting for years for an appointment ; but it regularly 
 enough happened that whenever a vacancy occurred which would have 
 suited him in every particular to a hair, it was filled up at once by 
 some other young gentleman having a prior claim, of course, while 
 he remained at home, living in idleness and hope, " promise-crammed," 
 indeed, but with as sombre a prospect of an appointment as it is, 
 perhaps, possible for the human imagination to conceive. 
 
 This was the ingratitude of which Mr. Trueinan complained ; and 
 it certainly was very flagrant and very base ; it was this which 
 eventually tired him out ; and as he indignantly communicated to 
 Sir William his firm determination to throw up his seat in disgust, 
 it was arranged between them that the fact should not be publicly 
 known until Stanley was ready to start. 
 
 " Well, now really," exclaimed the widow, when Sir William, who 
 dined with her almost daily, had at table explained the whole affair, 
 " how very admirable ! Why, we have the game in our own hands ! 
 Not a creature will know a word about it till our arrangements are 
 complete! What could have been more fortunate or more de- 
 lightful !" 
 
 " There is one slight difficulty to surmount," observed Sir William 
 " which is, that in order to secure your return, you must be on the 
 popular side." 
 
STANLEY THOBff. 179 
 
 " Will that be essential to success ?" inquired Stanley, " seeing 
 that we have the start ?" 
 
 " Why, it may not be positively essential, it is true ; but by taking 
 that side you will be much more safe." 
 
 " Oh, be on the safe side, my dear," cried the widow, inspired with 
 a patriotic spirit. " Whatever you do, my love, be on the safe side." 
 
 "But," said Amelia, " will he not thereby violate his principles ?" 
 
 " Dear me, of what possible importance is that ? I have heard it 
 asserted again and again, that in politics persons never dream of 
 allowing principle to stand in the way of interest ! It is really quite 
 ridiculous to think of such a thing. It is not to be expected. I am 
 sure I have heard that nobody does it, or at least that thay who do 
 are perfect idiots, and Stanley is not an idiot, my love : no, thank 
 Heaven, he is not an idiot." 
 
 This, of course, was unanswerable : it settled the point at once, 
 and Amelia, whom it effectually silenced, listened most attentively 
 to the reasoning by which Sir William sought to prove the expediency 
 of adopting the course he had suggested. 
 
 " Besides, my dear," interposed the widow, when Stanley was on 
 the point of yielding, " what is the great object proposed ? Is it not 
 to obtain a seat in Parliament ? Of course. Ought you not then to 
 adopt those principles by which alone that object is certain to be 
 secured ? Why, beyond all dispute. The safe side, my love, is the 
 side for me. None can rationally hope to succeed that are not on the 
 safe side." 
 
 " Well," said Stanley, with an infinite variety of equally sound 
 and substantial arguments had induced him to determine in favour 
 of that which was deemed the safe side ; " and how about the 
 qualification ?" 
 
 " Oh that," replied Sir William, " can be easily managed." 
 
 " But three hundred a-year landed property, is it not ? I possess 
 no landed property." 
 
 " Well, but you can, you know, my love," said the widow. " There 
 will be no real difficulty at all about that." 
 
 " That will be quite unnecessary," said Sir William ; " you can 
 possess it as others do, nominally/' 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed the widow ; " but I should like him to be in the 
 actual possession of it.'* 
 
 " Well, that certainly would be more correct and straightforward." 
 
 " Of course," cried Stanley, who wished that three thousand a- 
 year had been required, " und then they can raise no objections." 
 
 " It is always better," said Sir William, " when it can be con- 
 veniently managed." 
 
 " Oh," cried the widow, " it can be done without the slightest 
 inconvenience in the world !" 
 
 " Yery well. Then when will you start ?" 
 
 " At once," replied Stanley, "the sooner the better. We'll settle 
 the whole of the preliminaries, arrange everything likely to give us 
 an advantage, and then the thing can be publicly announced." 
 
 This was agreed to, and the remainder of the evening was passed,' 
 on the one hand, by Stanley and Sir William, in marking out the 
 
180 STANLEY THOKN. 
 
 details of the course to be pursued ; and on the other, by Amelia and 
 the widow in perfecting the plans they had previously conceived, and 
 which were now about to be carried into actual execution. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE CANVASS. 
 
 ALL were now on the q\d vive. Stanley was cramming for his political 
 debut; Sir "William was in constant communication with Mr. True- 
 man and the agents ; the Captain and the General were making all 
 the interest in their power, while Amelia and the widow were deriving 
 from all quarters all sorls of information touching the task they 
 themselves had undertaken to perform. 
 
 Their first object was to purchase an estate for Stanley near the 
 borough in question ; but as that was at the time impracticable, they 
 engaged a furnished mansion for six months in the immediate vicinity, 
 and lived in magnificent style. The ladies were indefatigable. There 
 was scarcely a tradesman in the place to whom they failed to extend 
 their patronage, while to almost every charitable institution in the 
 county they sent munificent donations in the name of Stanley, until 
 " Stanley Thorn" was in the mouth of every man, woman, and child. 
 The name became extremely popular ; every one was inquiring about 
 Stanley Thorn, and poetically descanting upon his manifest wealth and 
 unbounded benevolence ; for, of course, they had no conception of 
 his object, that having been kept wisely a most profound secret. 
 
 At length the time for open action arrived : the writ was moved 
 for, and the canvass commenced ; and on the following day an opponent 
 was in the field canvassing with corresponding energy. 
 
 Both candidates were unknown to the constituency, and hence 
 their characters as portrayed by their respective supporters were, of 
 course, extremely striking. Two more distinctly astonishing men 
 never breathed. Their talents were of the highest order possible, 
 while their hearts were so good, their principles so sound, their 
 motives so particularly disinterested, their aspirations so excessively 
 pure, that it seemed to be almost a pity to place them in a position 
 to be contaminated by the ordinary people of this sublunary sphere. 
 But, on the other hand, there never were, in the view of their re- 
 spective opponents, two such hideous monsters crawling upon the 
 face of the great globe. They were by far the most atrocious, the 
 most corrupt, the most venal, the most unprincipled persons in nature ; 
 they were political villains, liars, swindlers, assassins ; there never 
 were such brutes ! in short, as everything was left to the imagination, 
 which revelled delightfully, and with the most perfect freedom, it soon 
 became utterly impossible for the mind of man to conceive the legi- 
 timate extent of their political delinquencies : albeit, they had both 
 
STANLEY THOBff. 181 
 
 about as much real knowledge of politics as might have been attributed 
 to the children in the wood. 
 
 The character of a candidate, however, was a thing to which the 
 majority of the electors attached no importance. The constituency 
 of this enlightened borough was divided into two distinct classes : 
 the dependent electors who were compelled to vote to order, and 
 those who were so really independent that they felt themselves at 
 liberty to vote for him who promised the most, and paid the best. In 
 both cases principle was merged in interest ; which is certainly one 
 of the most beautiful characteristics of the popular mode of exercising 
 electoral privileges, seeing that it renders it perfectly unnecessary for 
 electors in the aggregate to trouble their heads about politics at all. 
 Nor is it merely unnecessary ; it is even worse than useless, inasmuch 
 as they who do think for themselves, which is a great deal of trouble, 
 and people really ought to appreciate more highly than they do the 
 unequivocal politeness of those who are at all times willing to relieve 
 them of that trouble, cannot act upon their own judgment, which 
 renders its formation mere labour in vain, and hence in all such cases 
 it is manifest that the people ought to look at the thing as a matter 
 with which they have no more to do than to be guided by those who 
 have infinitely more time than they have or can have to view the con- 
 flicting ramifications of State policy, the study of which forms the 
 chief business of their patriotic lives. 
 
 Here, however, the independent electors were in the ascendant : 
 they formed by far the stronger body, and constituted, therefore, 
 the more interesting class : and oh, how sweet are the feelings of an 
 independent man ! how clear are his views, how noble his aspirations ! 
 who will dare to coerce him ! He is a man ; he strongly feels that 
 he is a man, a really free man, a Briton ! He takes his vote to the 
 best market. He is not basely bound to give it to this man, or to 
 that. No ! it is his own property ; he feels it to be so ; he knows it, 
 awd he makes the most of it. And who shall impugn his right ? 
 Who shall attack the rights of his property ? They must be held 
 inviolable. As the sacred character of property forms the very basis 
 of civilization, down tumbles civilization pell mell if this, its legitimate 
 base, be removed. Perish the principles which tend to subvert the 
 rights of property ! They are the most pernicious that can spread. 
 If once they are permitted to stalk through the land unmuzzled, 
 away will go our social system, mingled in the vilest and most 
 sanguinary manner mingled with chaotic heaps of revolutionary 
 dust. But for the inviolable character of property, England, the 
 land of the free, the envy of surrounding empires, the wonder of the 
 world, for the integrity of whose glorious institutions so many 
 thousands of aspiring and noble hearts have bled, and so many thou- 
 sands more are ready to bleed, would be one of the most rascally 
 nations upon earth. The security of property is the palladium of 
 our liberties. It is the great, the glorious thing ! the very thing ! 
 the thing to which more real importance should be attached than to 
 any other thing under heaven ; for, unless it be universally recognised 
 and upheld, the British empire must crumble like touchwood into 
 dust. And who that perceives how essential to the due preservation 
 
182 STANLEY TliOEtf. 
 
 of our rights and privileges as Britons ifc is that property should be 
 held inviolable, who that perceives that if it be not, ruin, grim ruin, 
 will stride through the land, kicking everything right and left in its 
 progress, can fail to perceive that to impugn the right of men who 
 possess that property which is involved with the franchise, more 
 especially as in thousands upon thousands of instances a vote is the 
 only property a man does possess, is directly to assail the sacred 
 character of that which forms the real foundation of: England's glory ? 
 Of course, many superficial persons will contend that a vote is a 
 species of property which ought not to be sold : but in the view of 
 these really independent electors, how absurdly untenable did this 
 position appear ! how ridiculously rotten ! They argued thus : A 
 vote either is property, or it is not. That is perfectly clear ; and 
 equally clear is it that according to the Constitution, a man is either 
 master of that property or he is not. If then a vote is property, and 
 a man be the master of that property, it legitimately follows that he 
 is at liberty to sell it if he likes ; on the other hand, it be not property 
 lonafide, but merely property in trust, of what intrinsic value is a 
 vote to its possessor ? But is it not monstrous to talk about its being 
 a property in trust in a great commercial country like this! Is it* 
 not given to a man expressly in order that he may do what he likes 
 with it ? Very well then : when he sells it, he does do what he likes 
 with it ; and thereby performs his part of the contract. The whole 
 thing resolved itself to this ; and, although it is not even yet univer- 
 sally admitted or understood, it was understood and highly appreciated 
 by the independent electors of the borough in question. They held 
 votes to be their own personal property ; and in order that they might 
 sell it to the best possible advantage, they formed themselves into 
 independent associations, and, working in a body, held back to the 
 last, which was a highly correct and most excellent plan, because 
 parties were then so equally divided, that towards the close of the 
 poll, the value of votes increased immensely ; indeed, it then became 
 a question with each candidate how much it would be worth his while 
 to give for the purpose of securing his return, which could then be 
 secured beyond all doubt by purchasing the personal property of this 
 enlightened lot. 
 
 Under these refreshing circumstances it at once became manifest 
 that the independent part of the constituency need not be canvassed 
 at all ; that they might safely be left to the management of an agent 
 by whom they were all known, to be treated wit^i in the event of 
 their patriotic services being absolutely essential to Stanley's success. 
 
 The canvass, therefore, embraced the dependent electors chiefly, 
 and it was amazing how unanimous they were in favour of Stanley, 
 according to the ingenious gentleman whom his committee employed. 
 Oh, there could be no doubt at all about his return. That was 
 placed beyond the pale of dispute. They never before met with so 
 much enthusiasm. Their success was beyond all conception. The 
 anxiety of the electors to record their votes in his favour, was, indeed, 
 truly marvellous ! 
 
 Amelia and the widow took the principal tradesmen. They were 
 canvassing daily, from ten till four, and by virtue of extravagant 
 

 
STANLEY THOEK. 183 
 
 purchases ahd promises of future patronage which could not by any 
 means come under the denomination of bribery, they were very 
 successful. 
 
 Having gone satisfactorily through this list, they took up one 
 which was deemed the most hopeless : it was that of the mechanics 
 ^Yho were known to be coerced by the opposition, and whose support 
 could not, therefore, be reasonably expected. Success, however, had 
 made the widow bold. She felt sure of surmounting every obstacle 
 then : she would not hear of the possibility, in any case, of failure, 
 but contended, that if even she and Amelia could not induce them to 
 vote for Stanley, they could, at all events, prevail upon them not to 
 vote at all. 
 
 The morning they started on this expedition, they repudiated the 
 carriage: not with the view of assuming an air of humility ; on the 
 contrary, they were dressed with unusual elegauce, and had their 
 purses unusually well filled, having a high appreciation of that beauti- 
 ful maxim : Amour fait leaucoup, mais argent fait tout. 
 
 The first place at which they called was a cottage, in the occupa- 
 tion of a mechanic named Sims, and as they approached, three 
 children, who were sitting upon the threshold, the eldest of whom 
 was performing the character of governess to her brother and sister, 
 who represented scholars, started up with the most perfect ex- 
 pression of surprise within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. 
 
 " Is your father at home, my little dears ?" inquired the widow. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! mother !" exclaimed the children in a breath, 
 their eyes and mouths being still very widely extended, and their 
 mother, who had been preparing her husband's meal, was in an 
 instant at the door. 
 
 " Mr. Sims," said the widow, with a fascinating smile, " is he within ?" 
 
 " N no, ma'am," replied the poor woman, curtseying very 
 respectfully, and feeling very nervous. " He's at work, ma'am j but 
 he'll be home to dinner, ma'am, in about ten minutes." 
 
 " We'll wait till he returns, if you'll allow us." 
 
 Mrs. Sims again curtse} ? ed, placed two wooden chairs in an eligible 
 position, and tremblingly dusted them with her apron, while the 
 children, with the utmost caution, glided into a corner, where they 
 stood in a group with their fingers in their mouths, glancing timidly 
 at the ladies. 
 
 " Those are your sweet children, I presume," observed the widow. 
 " Come here, my little dears : come ! do not be afraid !" 
 
 The children looked as if they really could not help it: they did, 
 however, eventually approach, and the widow fondled them all with 
 great affection. 
 
 " Why," said the widow, " you must be very happy in this sweet 
 little place, and so fine a little family ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, thank Heaven, we're pretty comfortable, considering 
 the place is rather too large for our things, ma'am, but that we can't 
 help. My husband's obliged to live here for a vote." 
 
 " Then you anticipate the object of our visit ?" said the widow. 
 " You are aware that it is to solicit that vote ? Do you know on 
 which side Mr, Sims means to go ?" 
 
184* STANLEY THORN. 
 
 " I don't exactly know, ma'am, but I think he is to vote for Mr. 
 Swansdown." 
 
 " Oh ! but Mr. Thorn is the popular candidate !" 
 
 "Is he, ma'am?' 1 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! yes : he's so charming a person, so elegant, so 
 talented, and means to do so rcuch good, you can't think ! You'll 
 be delighted to see him. He is so excessively clever. Mr. Sims 
 really must vote for him." 
 
 " I'm afraid he must go on the other side, ma'am." 
 
 " Good gracious ! You astonish me ! Why ?" 
 
 " Because the gentleman he works for will be on that side." 
 
 "That cannot possibly be of the least importance: it cannot 
 possibly follow, that, because the employer of Mr. Sims will vote for 
 Mr. Swansdown, Mr. Sims should therefore vote Mr. Swansdowoi 
 too?" 
 
 " I don't understand much about it, ma'am, of course, but he has 
 always been obliged to do so." 
 
 " Oh ! but you know that's excessively wrong : it is very wrong 
 indeed for employers thus to influence the employed ; because, you 
 see, it destroys all freedom of election! which is dreadful, you know : 
 besides the practice is expressly forbidden by law. I must talk to 
 him on this great point, and you must talk to him too : we must 
 show him that he is not a free agent if he permits himself thus to be 
 coerced and led away." 
 
 " Here he is, ma'am," replied Mrs. Sims, as her husband, with a 
 thoughtful aspect, entered. 
 
 The widow turned and bowed to him, as Sims removed his cap and 
 informed her that he was her servant. 
 
 " Mr. Sims," said the widow, " we have called to solicit your vo'e 
 for Mr. Thorn." 
 
 "I am sorry," replied Sims, respectfully. " I would give it with 
 pleasure, but I must vote 011 the other side." 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, you are a good creature to be sorry : it proves 
 that at heart you are in favour of Mr. Thorn." 
 
 " I don't know the gentleman, but I agree with his principles." 
 
 " How is this, then, that you must not vote for him, Mr. Sims ?" 
 
 " Because, to speak plain, ma'am, my interest won't let me." 
 
 " Dear me, how very odd ! But is it correct, Mr. Sims, either 
 morally or politically, to sacrifice principle to interest ?" 
 
 " Why, it mayn't be, ma'am, certainly it mayn't ; but I've got 
 a young family, ma'am, and in justice to them I mayn't act upon 
 any fine notions." 
 
 " But you will thereby benefit your family. We will make it 
 worth your while, Mr. Sims." 
 
 Sims shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " You do not question our sincerity, Mr. Sims?" 
 
 " Not the least, but what's to recompense me for being thrown out 
 of work, which I should be, as sure as you're there ma'am, directly." 
 
 " That would be very sad ; it certainly would, very, very sad indeed ; 
 but then you see, Mr. Sims, we ought always to act upon our 
 principles," 
 
STANLEY THORN. 185 
 
 " Perhaps we ought, ina'am ; but we may'nt always do it." 
 
 * Oh, but virtue, you know, always meets its reward !" 
 
 " And in cases like mine, that reward is starvation." 
 
 " Not so, Mr. Sims. We would not only immediately remunerate 
 you for your services, but in the event of your being in consequence 
 dismissed, I am sure that Mr. Thorn, who is one of the best and kind- 
 est persons breathing, would feel himself in honour bound to do some- 
 thing for you. 1 ' 
 
 " The promises of gentlemen is one thing, ma'am, and the keeping 
 of them promises is another. About four years ago I depended on 
 promises, and voted on your side, and what was the consequence ? 
 Why, I was out of work the whole of the winter, and a bitter winter 
 it was. I didn't earn a shilling till they wanted my vote again, and 
 then they took me on." 
 
 " But could you not have procured employment elsewhere." 
 
 " I might perhaps, if I'd left the town : but I was born here, and 
 so was my father before me : I couldn't bear the thought of leaving." 
 
 " Of course not ; the feeling is very natural ; but I must say that 
 it is an extremely shocking thing that your vote, which is to all 
 intents and purposes your own, should not be exercised freely. 
 Don't you see, Mr. Sims ?" 
 
 " I do ma'am : I do see, and have felt it to my cost. I wish that 
 1 had no vote at all." 
 
 " Why then do you register ?" 
 
 " I am compelled to register by the same power as that which 
 compels me to vote. By giving votes to poor men like me, you only 
 give those votes to their masters : you only increase their political 
 influence : you only give them additional power over the men they 
 employ." 
 
 Well, Mr. Sims, I of course regret exceedingly that you are thua 
 situated, but I hope, still, that you will think better of it. Besides, 
 you have not yet beard my proposal." 
 
 "Whatever you propose, ma'am, on this score, will be a proposal 
 to ruin my family, which I can't of course agree to. I say this with 
 respect, ma'am ; I mean no offence. I don't believe that you'd do it 
 if you knew it, but ruin would come for all that." 
 
 " Pray urge him no farther," whispered Amelia, earnestly. " It 
 will be dreadful if we persuade him to injure himself and family 
 for us !" 
 
 " Oh ! but, my dear, that is not the way to canvass ! We must 
 not consider these things now ! If we do, we shall never get on !" 
 
 While these memorable observations were being delivered in a 
 whisper, Sims correctly retired to the extreme corner of the room, 
 which the widow no sooner perceived than she drew his wife aside, 
 and said, " My dear Mrs. Sims, I am sure that so amiable a person 
 as you appear to be, must have very considerable influence. Try 
 what you can do to persuade your good husband to give us his vote. 
 I will place in your hands twenty pounds if you can induce him to 
 promise, as I have the utmost confidence in you ; and be assured, that 
 if, after the election, anything unpleasant should occur, you shall not 
 be forgotten." 
 24 
 
186 STANLEY THOHN. 
 
 Twenty pounds ! Fascination floated upon the very sound of such 
 a sum. What might it not procure ! It might even enable them to 
 commence in a small way of business, and thus to be comparatively 
 independent. Twenty pounds ! The sum seemed so very immense 
 that the poor woman drew towards her husband at once with rapture 
 in her eyes and temptation on her tongue. 
 
 The widow now felt quite sure of success, and while the daughter 
 of Eve, whom she had charmed, was endeavouring to prove the 
 inexpediency of refusing the immense amount of money that had 
 been offered, and placed the strongest possible emphasis upon the 
 fact that it might be received without the slightest violation of either 
 principle or honour, the fair canvassers were engaged in caressing the 
 children ; and when they had adorned with satin sashes the waists of 
 the two girls, who strutted about the room with the most exalted 
 pride, and turning constantly as they strutted to admire the long 
 ends which reached the ground, the widow placed a sovereign in tho 
 hands of the boy, who looked alternately at her and the wealth she 
 had bestowed, with an expression of the most intense amazement. 
 
 The conference between Sims and his wife, both of whom, while 
 enforcing their respective .views, were extremely energetic, was soon 
 at an end, and the result was that Sim refused to yield. 
 
 " I am sorry," said he, "I am very sorry, ladies, that I am com- 
 pelled to vote against my inclination ; but I know what the con- 
 sequence will be so well, that I dare not do it. I hope Mr. Thorn 
 will succeed ; I hope he will, ladies, sincerely ; but as far as I, my- 
 self, am concerned, it is of no use I must vote against him." 
 
 This was conclusive. The firmness with which this decision was 
 pronounced, convinced the widow that nothing could shake his 
 resolution, and, therefore, after many expressions of regret on both 
 sides, she prepared to take leave. Amelia, however, before she 
 quitted the place, drew the poor woman aside, and generously pre- 
 sented her with five sovereigns, which she accepted and acknowledged 
 with tears of gratitude. 
 
 " G-od bless you, lady !" she exclaimed, " I will teach my children 
 to pray for you. May He protect you for ever !" 
 
 This was a very poor beginning. It tended to daunt the enthu- 
 siasm of both. Amelia began to consider whether any possible 
 circumstances could justify the practice of tempting poor persons to 
 entail wretchedness and ruin upon themselves, and soon arrived at 
 the conclusion that no justification could be found. This conclusion 
 she immediately communicated to the widow, who contested it 
 warmly, on the ground of its adoption being utterly inexpedient ; but 
 Amelia urged it so zealously, and with so much force and feeling, that 
 she eventually so far prevailed as to induce a suspension of operations 
 until the point had been deliberately settled at home. 
 
 As they passed through the town on their return, they met Bob 
 and his venerable friend, by whom they were informed that the Cap- 
 tain, accompanied by General arid Miss Johnson, had arrived, which 
 delighted them both, and they hastened to join them. 
 
 Bob had been extremely useful. He had ferreted out the deep 
 designs of the independent electors, and had felt their pulse with 
 
STANLEY THORN. 187 
 
 really admirable tact. He knew the whole of their movements, 
 attended all their meetings, and reported progress with great dis- 
 crimination ; and while he felt that his services were highly appre- 
 ciated, he had not the slightest doubt they would be handsomely 
 rewarded. 
 
 The hope of reward, however, although truth induces the con- 
 fession, that that was very lively and strong, was not the spur to 
 which his zeal and activity were principally attributable. He gloried 
 in the task. He felt flattered by the confidence reposed in him, and 
 though in the garb of a mechanic, his heart swelled with pride, for he 
 knew that, as much depended upon the judgment he displayed, his 
 position was one of high importance. 
 
 But although he had been in great spirits, although he had suc- 
 ceeded to his heart's content, in the performance of the task he had 
 undertaken, he had no one to converse with confidentially, no one to 
 accompany him, no one to whom he could open his whole soul. He 
 had a thousand times wished for his venerable friend, and hence, wheu 
 he arrived, not only was he overjoyed to see him, but he instantly 
 made a representation at head-quarters, which secured him as au 
 auxiliary, and was conducting him, when he met his mistress, to a 
 celebrated slop-shop in the town, to purchase a jacket and an apron 
 for the venerable gentleman, that he might accompany him also incog. 
 
 " They look rayther spicey down here, I say, don't they ?" said 
 13ob, when Amelia and the widow had passed on. 
 
 " Werry slap," replied the venerable gentleman. " Vot are they 
 been arter ?" 
 
 " Oh ! canvassing." 
 
 " Canwassing ! vot ! they canwass ! Veil, vimmin is devils !" 
 
 "It only shows you wot they'll do for their husbands." 
 
 " That's* reg'lar : so it does ; they'll do a deal for 'em, ven they're 
 a tidyish sort ; ony, yer see, they make 'em pay werry dear for their 
 dewotion." 
 
 " But wot I look at most, is, they don't stick at nothing ; they'll 
 go through fire and water to serve you." 
 
 " So they vill, ?en you get 'em to bite ; but even then, you know, 
 there's allus two sides to a penny : look at both and you're safe to 
 find one of 'em a voman. That's the pint : cos a voman is a vomau 
 all over the vorld. Still I agrees vith you reg'lar, that ven they do 
 take, they sticks like lobsters to business ; but that ain't the pint : 
 many on 'em looks arter number vun, vich leads them as is tied to 'em 
 werry ruin lives. They're safe to sarve you out, you know, in some 
 way or 'nother." 
 
 " Ah, but I like to see a woman, you know, as '11 go through any- 
 thing for her husband." 
 
 " So do IJ It's a interesting sight, and that's vere they gets over 
 you ! Bat if you look at the thing fillysophocle, you'll find that their 
 charges for this is werry heavy." 
 
 They now reached the slop-shop, and when the proprietor had 
 suited the \enerable gentleman to a hair, Bob took him to the head- 
 quarters of the independents, where they had a pint of ale, and ascer- 
 tained that there was to be a grand meeting that evening at seven. 
 
188 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 " Vot sort of buffers is them bin dependents ?" inquired Venerable 
 Joe. 
 
 " They're swells," replied Bob, "which votes for them as pays the 
 beat." 
 
 " Werry reg'lar," said the venerable gentleman, ironically. " Then 
 in course they hare warment." 
 
 " You']l say so, when you see 'em." 
 
 "I says so now. No woter as sells his wote ought to have a wote 
 to sell. They ought all to be expunged, cos it's wenal corruption." 
 
 " But s'pose it's reg'lar ?" 
 
 " So much the vusser. It don't ought to be! Vot is votes for ? 
 That's the p'int. Ain't they for to be guv to the best man ? And 
 how can that be, if they are sold like red-herrings ?" 
 
 " But in a place like this here, where it's done, you know, so reg'lar 
 and deliberate, it makes all the odds !" 
 
 " Not a ha'perth. It only shows you that rotten wenalty is ketch- 
 ing. D'yer think now, if I was a genelman, I'd buy up the wotes of 
 the wagabones ?" 
 
 "If you didn't, the t'other buffer would, mind yer, that's where 
 you'd feel it. S'pose you was a genelman which wanted to get into 
 parliament. Very well. Here's a mob of swells here, which can do 
 the trick for you, and if you don't buy 'em up, you don't get in at 
 all. Now, then, wouldn't you do it, providin' it wos reg'lar P" 
 
 " Not a bit of it. I'll tell you vot I'd do : I'd go to the t'other genel- 
 man comforble and quiet, and I'd say, ' Mr. Vot's-yer-name, ve're a 
 conflicting together in this here business. Wery well, that's no 
 hods. May the best man vin. Now look here : there's a squaddy 
 of wagabones, vich vonts to sell their wotes, vich is very onreg'lar, 
 and don't ought to be. "Wery veil. Now, I'll tell yer vot I'll do vith 
 yer ; I'll give yer my verd, vich in course is as good as my bond, that 
 if you don't buy up these here warment, I von't.' Vot's the conse- 
 qvence ? Vy, in course, they'd hold back "to the last, a expectin', 
 an' expecting, an* expectin' to be bought at their own walleation, 
 an* at the close of the poll, the whole b'ilin' ud be done just as brown 
 as a berry." 
 
 " That wouldn't be a bad move, mind you !" 
 
 " It's the only vay to sarve 'em. They'd be so blessed vild they'd 
 be fit to punch their heads off." 
 
 " Blowed if I don't name it to master !" cried Bob. " It's a out- 
 and-out move." 
 
 And so it was in the abstract : nothing could be better. The con- 
 ception did the venerable gentleman great credit. But he thought 
 of the conduct of the principals only. He overlooked the fact that 
 each candidate had a committee whose object was to ensure success, 
 and who were not very scrupulous as to the means. It was possible 
 that the candidates themselves would agree to a proposition of the 
 kind, and would feel themselves bound to adhere to the compact; 
 but the probability was, that towards the close of the poll, the com- 
 mittee, in the plenitude of their enthusiasm, would violate that com- 
 pact in order to make all sure. 
 
 It was precisely in this light that Stanley and hia immediate friends 
 
STANLEY THOEK. 189 
 
 viewed the proposition when suggested by Bob, in the full conviction 
 of its being hailed with loud applause. Their view of the ease, how- 
 ever, was cot explained to him. Unwilling to diminish his value by 
 reducing his manifest self-importance, they told him that he was au 
 extremely clever fellow ; that the things should be considered in 
 committee; and that it was highly essential still to watch the 
 movements of the patriots, and to report the very moment he heard 
 of any offer -having been made by the opposite side ; the whole of 
 which had great weight with Bob, who still imagined that the sugges- 
 tion would of course be adopted. 
 
 During this conference, Venerable Joe was arraying himself in his 
 masquerade dress ; and as he blackened his beard with burnt cork, 
 and soiled his jacket and apron with soot, he lojked, when his toilet 
 was complete, like a highly respectable tinker. 
 
 Bob, whose habiliments were somewhat more tidy, did not quite 
 approve of the tout ensemble of his venerable friend, and he said so, 
 and in terms which could nob be mistaken ; but with all that 
 delicacy of expression and tone, by which his delivery was distin- 
 guished in common. 
 
 The venerable gentleman, however, contested the point with great 
 eloquence. 
 
 " I study natur'," said he. " The dresa is nat'ral : verehas it 
 voodn't be no how nat'ral if it looked as if I'd dressed for the part ! 
 that's the p'int. Look ear, you go to the play, and you see a willage 
 scene. Worry well. The pheasants is all dressed reg'lar, with werry 
 tight smalls, leetle jackets, and pumps, cuttin' avay like ingey rubber 
 and sportin' werry well-deweloped calves. Is this nat'ral ? Ain't 
 itheven, as fur as the dress is consarned, a werry bad imitation of 
 natur' ? Is pheasants got calves ? Not a hindiwidual one upon the 
 face of the blessed earth. They've got no calves at all not the nlen : 
 their calves all runs down right avay into their boots ; and as for 
 daacing ! they do dance like helephants ; they're werry heavy 
 coaches ; the music, mind yer, must be cruel slow : they seem built 
 hexpress to go along with the Old Hunderth : all vich proves wery 
 clear to me that ven people attempts for to dress for a part, they 
 ought to study natur'." 
 
 Bob perceiving the force of this analogy yielded ; and, at the 
 appointed hour, they went forth to meet the Independents. 
 
 On their arrival, they found the room crowded, and all seemed 
 exceedingly anxious to ascertain if any^ offer from either side had 
 been made. The business of the evening had not yet commenced : 
 they were waiting with great impatience for Mr. Jonathan -Boggles, 
 a respectable blacksmith, and a member of the committee, who, con- 
 scious of his importance, was invariably late. He did, however, 
 eventually arrive, and his presence was hailed with enthusiastic 
 cheering. 
 
 " Chair ! chair ! chair ! Mr. Boggles in the chair ! " shouted the 
 Independents simultaneously. 
 
 Mr. Boggles, however, sat with great humility near the door, until 
 the question had been put and unanimously carried, when, with a 
 show of reluctance, which did him great credit, for it seemed to 
 
190 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 proceed from a knowledge of his own imworthiness, he took posses- 
 sion of the chair amidst shouts of applause. 
 
 Every eye was now upon him : the anxiety which prevailed was 
 most intense ; and Mr. Boggles having, with due deliberation, passed 
 his blue cotton handkerchief three distinct times across his highly 
 intellectual brow, called with infinite presence of mind, for a pint 
 and a pipe, and a screw. 
 
 Another wild exclamation of " Chair ! " burst from the impatient 
 patriots ; but Boggles sat with appropriate tranquillity until the pint, 
 and the pipe, aud the screw had been produced, when he majestically 
 rose ; and as the most breathless silence pervaded the room, he was 
 heard by all to say, 
 
 " Grents, we arn't heered noth'n." 
 
 This important announcement seemed to remove from the minds 
 of all a load of suspense, albeit beyond that it clearly afforded no 
 pleasure ; but as Mr. Boggles subsequently intimated, with all ids 
 characteristic consciseness, that he should be happy to hear any 
 gentleman deliver his sentiments on the all-absorbing point, a 
 patriot of some importance rose, and let the following eloquence 
 loose : 
 
 " Brother townsmen : lou've heered what the cheerman has said 
 togither, and you know what to think on't as well as I can tell'ee; 
 but if aither party thinks we shall move from our ground, they never 
 was greater mistaken. [Loud cheersJ] We beant a-going to 
 do noth'n' of the sort. \_Eenewed cheering.'} I knoo what 
 they are a-waitin' for togither ; they're a-waitin' to see which 
 side we shall lane on ; but we beant a-goiu' to lane on noo 
 side. [Applause.'] What's it matter to us which gets in ? What'll 
 aither on 'em do for us ? Noth'n'. Why should we put ourselves 
 out o' the way then for them ? If they have us they must drop 
 someth'n' handsome : if they won't, they don't have us. [Much 
 cheering.'] We're not unreasonable togither. We only want as 
 much as we can get : we want noth'n' more. If we can have more 
 from one than we can from the other, shouldn't we be fools not to 
 take it ? Why should we make any sacrifice for them ? Would 
 they make a mite o' sacrifice for us ? Wouldn't they see us rot 
 first ? They're sure to have us. We've the power in our own 
 hands, and we bean't to be done. If naither offers noth'n', then 
 comes our turn : we'll offer ourselves to Thorn, who's-a-rollin' in 
 riches, and if he doon't give what we want, he's the one to be 
 punished : we'll wait till just the last, and then go up togither and 
 swamp him." 
 
 While the loud applause which honoured the conclusion of this 
 oration was rushing through the circulator ventilators, Bob and his 
 venerable friend held a confidential conference touching the scheme, 
 which they had previously deemed excellent, but which they now 
 clearly perceived would be utterly ineffectual. He was therefore 
 impatient to communicate this highly important fact to his master, 
 and in the glow of his zeal was about to leave at once for that pur- 
 pose ; but his venerable friend deta ; ned him by suggesting the extreme 
 probability of other points of importance being started ; and several 
 
STANLEY THORN. 191 
 
 speeches followed, tending to illustrate the justice as well as the 
 expediency of making Stanley the victim i^t the event of any 
 " swindle " being attempted. 
 
 When this point had been carried nem. con. a rough red-headed 
 geniua rose to direct public attention to a general view of the 
 matter. 
 
 " It has been stated," said he, " in the course of this discussion, 
 that it doon't matter a boot'n to us as individuals which party gets 
 in. I go furder, and say it doon't matter a boot'n to the coontry at 
 large, 'cause there's just six o* one and half a dozen o' the other. 
 This coontry is goin' right under the table, [hear ! hear /] and noth'n 
 can save it boot a roarin* revolution ! \_~Loud cheering^ And what 
 'ud be the consequence of sooch a revolution, which soom weak- 
 minded pipple dread ? What 'ud be the consequence, I say ? Suppose 
 the whoole coontry wor in flames, and everything in it burnt to 
 ashes ! Is plenty of work good for the country ? Is good wages 
 good for the coontry ? If so, a revolution would be good for the 
 coontry! And why ? See what general employ it 'ud cause! see 
 what work there'd be to build it all up again ! see what wages poor 
 men would have then ! I'll tell you what together, I'm for making 
 all level, and beginnin' again fresh !" 
 
 This generous sentiment was most enthusiastically applauded by 
 all present, with the exception of Venerable Joe, who was the pro- 
 prietor of sundry small houses, and with whose private interests the 
 adoption of so sweeping a measure of reform would in consequence 
 seriously interfere. He therefore intimated to Bob who made it a 
 point of discretion to applaud every speech that he was about to 
 reply to the red-headed gentleman ; and although Bob endeavoured 
 to dissuade him, by pointing out distinctly that such a proceeding 
 would not be safe under the circumstances, he would not be turned 
 from his purpose. He therefore rose, and the moment he had done 
 so, there was a general whisper of " Who's he ? D'yovv know him ? 
 Who's he !" 
 
 " I've riz," said the venerable gentleman with great deliberation, 
 " to hanser a hobserwation wot dropped from the hindiwidual vich 
 'ad the honour to speak last. My hobject is for to say but a werry 
 few vords ; and fustly, I wi^h to arst him how, if he 'ad property, 
 he'd like to have it knocked o 1 th 1 hi ad in that their soort o' vay as 
 he speaks on ?" 
 
 " D'yow think," cried the red-headed patriot, " I wouldn't sell it 
 afore the glory began ?" 
 
 " But s'pose," pursued the venerable gentleman, " s'poae " 
 
 " Down ! down ! down !" exclaimed twenty of the Independents 
 in a breath. " Turn him out ! Turn him out ! He is not one of us ! 
 He's a traitor ! a spy ! Turn him out !" 
 
 In an instant the room was in an uproar. Bob scarcely knew 
 whether to withdraw his friend at once, or to fight through it, seeing 
 that a strong disposition to do battle was becoming very manifest. 
 The veuerable gentleman wished to explain : he was very energetic 
 in the expression of this wish ; but no ! nothing could induce them to 
 hear him. He was a traitor ! they would have him out ! and were 
 
192 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 just on the point of proceeding to violence, when Bob, who would 
 have struck down the first man that touched him, started up, and 
 cried, " Leave him to me !" with an air of so much desperation, that 
 they who were ahout to assail him stood off. 
 
 " Now, old gentleman," said Bob, winking slightly at his venerable 
 friend, who understood it, " your conduct is very ouregular. March, 
 afore I take you by the scruff of the neck. 1 ' 
 
 The venerable gentleman deemed it highly correct to make a show 
 of resistance, when Bob at once seized him by the collar, and with 
 great apparent violence forced him from the room amidst thunders of 
 applause. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 THE NOMINATION. 
 
 WHEN the expressed determination of the independent band had 
 been communicated by Bob to the committee, they knew at once 
 how to proceed ; for as Stanley was to be the first candidate applied 
 to, only in the event of no proposal to purchase being made, it was 
 clearly expedient to wait for such application, as the value of 
 property, and more especially that peculiar species of property, so 
 varies by circumstances, that in general a difference of something 
 like a hundred per cent, fluctuates between an offer to buy and 
 an offer to sell. 
 
 Bob was therefore instructed to keep an extremely sharp eye 
 upon the patriots still; and, stimulated by the applause lavished 
 upon him for his vigilance, he continued to watch them with 
 indefatigable zeal, albeit deprived of the companionship of his friend, 
 through that venerable gentleman's unhappy indiscretion. 
 
 Erom day to day, as no offer from either party had been made, 
 the anxiety of the independent people increased : for although they 
 possessed intact the power to punish either of the candidates, and 
 thereby to have their revenge, they did not looking at the thing in 
 a purely commercial point of view prefer that revenge, however 
 sweet per se, to the more substancial coin of .the realm ; which was 
 indeed extremely natural, as well as very provident, inasmuch as the 
 majority of them, having an appropriate contempt for the meanness 
 of labour, lived in an enviable state of independence from year to 
 year upon the golden produce of their electoral rights. Their 
 indignation at the backwardness of those who had come forward 
 can therefore astonish no right-minded man ; nor is it surprising that 
 on the day of nomination they should have become so incensed at 
 the ungenerous, unjust, and ungentlemanlike behaviour of the 
 candidates, that they resolved to show him whom they conceived 
 to be the richer, and therefore the more reprehensible of the two, 
 that they were not with impunity to be swindled. 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 193 
 
 Now, although philosophical persons wiay carp at the novel 
 knowledge about to be imparted, it may be held to be highly 
 necessary that all the civilised nations of the earth should know, 
 that in England, previous to the conscientious votes of a con- 
 stituency being recorded, the candidates have to go through a 
 sound constitutional ordeal, involving the high and indisputable 
 privilege of pelting, and hooting, and yelling at those candi- 
 dates, a privilege which forms one of the most characteristic 
 and strongly-developed features of pure liberty with which a 
 perfectly tree and enlightened people can ba blessed. That the 
 glorious process of nomination throws a halo of security around 
 our sacred institutions is a fashionable fact, plainly demonstrable 
 by our very adherence to tint process, and that the speeches 
 delivered on that interesting occasion are essential to the existence 
 of a good understanding between candidates aud electors, is abun- 
 dantly proved by the mere circumstance of those speeches beiug made. 
 So also is the show of hands a glorious transaction, and as valuable 
 as it is glorious, inasmuch as it amounts to a mighty demonstration 
 of public opinion, which is of itself so conclusive, that it is 
 iu no slight degree remarkable that in a country like this the 
 unpopular practice of demanding a poll should be tolerated at all. 
 
 It is however true, very true, that there may exist two rational 
 opinions about this, that when on the day of nomination the 
 returning oilicer h:id deliberately read the writ, Stanley was pro- 
 posed by a locally influential person, in a most brilliant speech, 
 of which not a single syllable could be heard beyond "Brother 
 Electors!'' "Stanley Thorn, Esquire," "honour to represent" 
 " rampant faction" " purity of election " " the eye of Europe " 
 and " the last drop of blood in his veins !" 
 
 As it is just possible that it may be observed that this was 
 rather extraordinary, considering that Stanley was the popular 
 candidate, it will be proper to explain that the independent portion 
 of the constituency utterly disgusted with the prospect of being 
 unbought proceeded en masse to the hustings, with aprons, hats, 
 and pockets full of turnips, carrots, cabbage-stalks, potatoes, aud 
 other equally handy vegetables, with a view of giving expression 
 to the feelings by which they were animated in a manner the 
 most effective. They hated Stanley with a most correct hate; they 
 felt that they had, by him especially, been treated with contempt ; 
 and as contempt is about the last thing which true patriot* in 
 general are disposed to endure, they resolved in limine to bring him 
 to his senses ; and when they had assembled, Bob, cognizant of this 
 hi:^h resolve, pressed with unexampled zeal through the crowd to 
 inspire them with additional ardour. Unhappily, they did not know 
 Stanley, and a loud cry arose from time to time of " Which is he ?" 
 some pointing, in reply, to one devoted individual, and some to 
 another. Bob was well aware of their lamentable ignorance in this 
 particular, and resolving to take advantage of it, rushed with groat 
 presence of mind through the mass, shouting just as the person who 
 had nominated Stanley retired, " Now then ! look out, brotiier 
 boronghmongers ! fire !" 
 25 
 
194< STANLEY THORN. 
 
 In an instant the hands of the independents grasped their ammuni- 
 tion, and as a gentleman stepped forward to second the nomination, 
 they, mistaking him for the nominee, charged, and the air was 
 darkened with vegetable matter. 
 
 In vain the unhappy gentleman thus assailed being utterly 
 unable to understand it, for he was sure that he had done nothing 
 to offend the constituency protested against this popular expression 
 of public opinion ; in vain the returning officer appealed to their de- 
 liberate sense of justice ! they answered by discharging fresh volleys 
 of vegetables : they would not be influenced ; their spirit could not 
 be subdued ; they were men, independent men, good men and true ; 
 in short, men who knew their rights, and would maintain them. 
 
 " Fire ! fire !" reiterated Bob. " Wot ! is Britons goin' for to bo 
 slaves !" 
 
 11 No !" responded the patriots, in a chorus of thunder, and again 
 their ammunition partially shut out the light. 
 
 Now, it may be well known by experienced men, that there is 
 nothing in a siege of this character so efficient as a turnip. It requires 
 but a powerful aim and a strictly correct eye to make it go straight 
 to the point proposed. Carrots are all very well in their way ; but in 
 general their flight is extremely irregular, while in unpractised hands 
 they are apt to snap in the throwing : but turnips pierce the air in 
 the most steady style ; and albeit many inexperienced persons may 
 prefer a potato, there seems to be no just or legitimate ground for 
 such preference ; for a potato has not half the moral influence of a 
 turnip, because it does not, in proportion to its size, carry with it 
 half the weight. 
 
 On this occasion the turnips did great execution. They went with 
 force and dignity at the heads of the individuals by whom the plat- 
 form was crowded, and whose gestures were in consequence less 
 graceful than grotesque. With the exception of the returning 
 officer, who for a small man was highly indignant, not one upon the 
 hustings dared to lace the besiegers. Some, with great self-possession, 
 stooped down, and took a retrospective view through their legs ; 
 some witnessed the exciting scene by peeping occasionally over their 
 shoulders ; while others formed themselves into picturesque groups, 
 each modestly striving to give the precedence to his friend by placing 
 that friend just before him. Stanley, who enjoyed the thing ex- 
 ceedingly, was in a corner, properly panoplied by a beadle, who, 
 being an excessivelv corpulent person, shielded him with very great 
 effect. 
 
 The platform, of course, was soon covered with vegetables : suffi- 
 cient, indeed, had been poured in to stock a metropolitan market ; 
 but Bob, perceiving that the patriots had plenty still in store, was 
 indefatigable in his efforts to urge them on. 
 
 " Keep it up !" he cried ; " never give in ! Now now, brother- 
 boroughmongers, at him! Hurrah! I say," he added, privately, 
 turning to his venerable friend, " jist cut away, and put missis up to 
 it, will you, or else she'll be fit to break her heart. There she is, 
 with old missis, and the Captain in the carriage." 
 
 As the patriots, with deafening shouts, poured in their reserved 
 
STANLEY THOBtf. 195 
 
 ammunition, the venerable gentleman pressed towards the carriage ; 
 and, the instant Amelia saw him, she exclaimed, 
 
 " Joseph, for goodness sake ! run to the hustings, and " 
 
 " Don't be oneasy, ma'am, about it," said the venerable gentle- 
 man ; " Bob's arrangin* on it beautiful, ma'am, a hinsinniwatin' 
 into 'em that t'other genelman is him, so as the swells may exhorst 
 theirselves of every hindiwidual wegeble afore his master cornea 
 forrard." 
 
 "What, was this attack intended for him ?" cried the widow. 
 
 " It vos, ma'am : it's werry onreg'lar, but it vos." 
 
 " The brutes !" exclaimed the widow, indignantly. " The wretches ! 
 Where on earth are the police ? Bun, .Joseph, and tell him from me 
 to leave the hustings this instanf. Be quick, Joseph : there's a good 
 man !" 
 
 The venerable gentleman at once started off to deliver his message 
 to Stanley, while the Captain was endeavouring to calm the ladits' 
 fears by explaining precisely the effect of Bob's ruse. 
 
 Stanley, however, felt that he bad a great public duty to perform. 
 He had to address the independent electors, which is so indispensable 
 OQ the day of nomination, that it may with great propriety be ques- 
 tioned whether the wanton violation of that duty would not only 
 ensure individual defeat, but strike at the very root of the British 
 Constitution. It is no answer to this, nor is it a sufficient proof of 
 the iimtility of the practice, to show that of the speeches delivered 
 on those high occasions it frequently happens that no syllable can be 
 heard : it may be held to be distinctly and absolutely essential to the 
 noble institutions of this country nevertheless. Individuals, it is 
 true, may pelt. Why, let them pelt ! Are free and intelligent men 
 to be deprived of their liberties ? They may drown every word let 
 them drown every word ; are members of a civilized community to 
 be gagged ? Is the public voice to be stifled ? Are the people of 
 this country to be prohibited from giving full expression to the sen- 
 timents and feelings with which they are inspired ? He who would 
 contend for the expediency of adopting such a course is no statesman. 
 Besides, there cannot, by any possibility, be a stronger proof of the 
 political virtue of delivering speeches on these great occasions, in 
 defiance of the people to whom those speeches are addressed, than 
 that afforded by the fact that the ancient and fine constitutional 
 custom is still adhered to by the most brilliant men of the age. 
 
 When, therefore, Mr. Swausdown had been nominated and 
 seconded, and the whole of the vegetables had been duly discharged, 
 Stanley came forth, and boldly faced the electors; but when the 
 independent band preceived the error into which they had been led, 
 when they found that they had been lavishing their favours upon the 
 wrong man, and that they had not so much as a root of mangel- 
 wurzel with which to honour the .right one, they became at once so 
 thoroughly disgusted with themselves, tliat they scarcely knew how to 
 give expression to their rage. 
 
 " Gentlemen !" said Stanley, " gentlemen ! gentlemen !" 
 
 He could get no further. The patriots were resolved not to hear 
 another word : they shouted, and bellowed, and yelled, aiid felt strongly 
 
190 STANLEY 
 
 disposed to make a rush, with a view to the restoration of their vege- 
 table ammunition. 
 
 " Oh ! Tm not going to talk to these vile dirty wretches," said 
 Stanley, with great impropriety, addressing Sir William, who stood 
 beside him. 
 
 " You had better say something." 
 
 " Of what earthly use is it, when they'll not hear me ?" 
 
 " Go on : never mind ; tell them how you love them : you are sure 
 to be faithfully reported in the papers. They'll make a speech for 
 you. Do but keep at it for a time, and appear to be dreadfully 
 energetic : that's the way." 
 
 Stanley accordingly set to work like an alarum bell, firmly deter- 
 mined that nothing should stop him. fie shouted, and looked extremely 
 lierce, and clenched his fist tightly, and sent in the crown of his hat, 
 and assumed a variety of very imposing attitudes, apparently inspired 
 with unexampled fervour; in short, he performed his part \vithso 
 much perfection that at length even the independent patriots became 
 amazed, and wished to hear what this palpable enthusiasm was all 
 about ; but the moment this natural wish became manifest, the mo- 
 ment they were sufficiently silent to hear him he concluded by 
 saying, in a firm, loud voice, 
 
 '" It therefore follows, that if you do but your duty to yourselves, 
 my return will be triumphant !" 
 
 Mr. Swausdown then nobly stepped forward, and the contrast 
 between him and Stanley was striking in the extreme. Mr. Swans- 
 down was a man of mild and gentleman-like bearing, but he was at 
 the same time remarkably short. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, at the very top of a very high voice. 
 
 " I am proud " 
 
 " Vot !" exclaimed Venerable Joe, who had stationed himself near 
 the hustings, " air yer going' for to 'ear that air leetle Lilliprushian 
 speak arter yer voodn't 'ear t' other ! Look at the little swell ! Vy he'd 
 have to clamber up upon a cheer to scratch his blessed leetle head, he 's 
 sich a werry onreg'lar little dodger," 
 
 " No, my brother boroughmongers !" promptly exclaimed Bob, 
 " three reg'lar boroughmongering groans for the Lilliprushian !'' 
 
 Three groans were accordingly started, but tiiey were drowned by 
 the cheers of the patriotic band. 
 
 " Gentlemen!" screamed Mr. S wansdown. 
 
 " Gentlemen !" echoed Bob, with a shriek which rent tho air ; and, 
 as similar echoes were established among the crowd, they pro- 
 duced loud and long- continued laughter. 
 
 Again Mr. Swansdown tried back, and again ; but these trials had 
 no other effect than that of exciting a spirit of emulation among tho 
 masses, for each man strove to make his echo the most perfect. And 
 it certainly w r as an unfortunate voice for an eloquent public speaker ; 
 but even this was not all, for, while his tones resembled those of an 
 indignant cockatoo, his refhied articulation, partook of the character 
 of that of Demosthenes before lie had recourse to the pebbles. 
 
 At length, after making a series of unsuccessful attempts, he was 
 clearly inclined to give it up in disgust, for the popular reflections 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 197 
 
 upon his physical faculties wounded his private feelings deeply : as, 
 however, an extremely judicious friend represented to him the absolute 
 necessity for going on, and explained that, as these imitations were 
 simply the development of their undoubted constitutional privileges 
 as free and devoted Britons, they ought not to be contemned, he tried 
 again to enlighten them ; but, as the more energetic he became the 
 more laughter he created, he had no sooner thrown them all into 
 convulsions than he thanked them fervently for the patient and 
 deliberate attention with which they had honoured him, complimented 
 them highly upon the manifestation of their surpassing intellectual 
 characteristics, and, with a striking expression of gratitude, with- 
 drew. 
 
 The awful moment now arrived for the highly-constitutional show 
 of hands to be demanded, and all living men by whom the importance 
 of this terrific process is appreciated properly, will admit that it is 
 one of the moat intense interest, inasmuch as the result involves the 
 dreadful responsibility of demanding a poll. On this occasion the 
 show was decidedly ten to one in favour of Swansdown, which was 
 very remarkable, and, being quite unexpected, had a powerful effect. 
 Stanley, however, by no means dismayed, demanded a poll on the 
 spot: when the masses, having given him three terrific groans, aud 
 ISwansdown three highly-enthusiastic cheers, formed themselves into 
 groups to review the chief points, and dispersed without striking a 
 blow. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXX. 
 
 T1IE ELECTION 
 
 ALTHOUGH Stanley's committee had been again and again assured 
 that no offer had been made to the independent patriots, they now 
 felt convinced that the Swansdown party had purchased them under 
 the rose. The show of hands had amazed them ; it afforded in their 
 view an incontrovertible proof of a purchase having been effected, 
 and, as without the support of the patriotic band success was utterly 
 hopeless, they naturally thought that the time had arrived for their 
 opponents to be boldly outbid. 
 
 On the other hand, the Swansdown party were equally amazed at 
 the mighty demonstration in their favour. They had concluded that 
 the patriots had been secured by Stanley, and that, therefore, they 
 should lose the election, by means which would ensure their eventual 
 success. Their -energies had, in consequence, been devoted to the 
 accumulation of sufficient facts to support a petition against Stanley's 
 return ; but the show of hands threw a new light upon the subject, 
 and tended to inspire them with the conviction not only that the 
 patriots had not been corrupted, but they had resolved to adhere 
 firmly to those pure principles by which alone it was supposed the 
 
198 STANLEY 
 
 strict integrity of the British empire could at that particular period 
 lie maintained. 
 
 Stanley's committee, notwithstanding, at once opened a negotia- 
 tion with the Independents, and assuming that their votes had 
 already been "bought, their first object was to learn the exact price 
 at which the property had been sold. There was much tact and 
 judgment in this, forasmuch as experience had proved to the 
 committee that when electors have been bought by both parties, 
 a great deal depends upon their honour, they knew that the 
 development of that finemoral attribute could be ensured only 
 by giving the highest price. The patriots, however, solemnly 
 declared that their property had not been purchased, which was 
 repudiated at once as being utterly absurd by the committee ; who, 
 nevertheless, agreed with them as to the price, and proposed that the 
 payment should be made when the votes had been recorded ; but 
 the patriots, exalted by the purity of their principles, spurned these 
 proposals with Hashing indignation as a direct and unwarrantable 
 imputation upon their strictly public virtue. They would have the 
 money down ; and they had it. 
 
 The great point now to be considered was, how to secure them. 
 This puzzled the committee for some considerable time ; but at 
 length, having consulted the best authorities on the subject, they 
 inclined to the belief that the patriots would never dream of leaving 
 a house while they were able to procure liquor gratis ; and that, 
 therefore, on being made particularly bacchanalian, they would have 
 no disposition to violate their honour. 
 
 A supper was accordingly provided at their own head-quarters, 
 and, touching the liquor, the host was instructed to let the supply 
 at least equal the demand. This was done. A bottle of wine was 
 placed by the side of each patriot to begin with, and jugs of ardent 
 spirits were established at regular intervals in the most tempting 
 manner that could be conceived. Accustomed as they had been to 
 the liberality of candidates, this display quite surprised them. It 
 won all their hearts ; and, as they partook of the wines and spirits 
 with the most perfect freedom, and with an energy which was clearly 
 indicative of the existence of an idea that they had not a moment to 
 lose, they soon became in a most glorious state of affectionate philan- 
 thropy. Nothing could surpass their enthusiasm in favour of Stanley. 
 He was a prince : his health was drunk fifty times, for each patriot 
 felt himself bound to propose it the moment he had arrived at the 
 verge of oblivion. 
 
 Having soaked themselves up to this point with wine, rum, gin, 
 and brandy, punch was introduced, which, being a new and un- 
 expected feature, was ladled out with great spirit, while it drank so 
 excessively smooth that even those who had retained sufficient sense 
 to suspect that they had had quite enough, were unable to resist the 
 flowing bowl. They therefore drank, and drank, and dropped off as 
 they drank, and as they dropped they were thrust beneath the table 
 by the survivors, who gradually followed to a man. 
 
 When this consummation had arrived, the landlord extinguished 
 the lights, and locked them up, and there they remained snoring 
 
STANLEY THORtf. 199 
 
 snugly until eight in the morning, when Bob and his. venerable friend 
 came down with a company of musicians, who aroused them by their 
 correct and energetic execution of " Hail, smiling morn" 
 
 At first the patriots felt rather confused, and looked about as if 
 they did not exactly comprehend the true meaning of the extraor- 
 dinary state of things which then existed. The host, however, supplied 
 them with excellent purl, and their faculties, in consequence, became 
 somewhat clearer ; indeed, before an hour had elapsed, they were 
 enabled to entertain a faint notion that they had been at head quar- 
 ters all night, which was really very singular. Still they kept drinking 
 the purl it was so strong and so refreshing until the clock struck 
 nine, when down came the carriages to convey them to the poll before 
 it was possible for them to be tampered with by the Swansdown 
 faction. Not a patriot, however, though for a moment of deserting 
 his colours then ! They were all too happy too glorious ! " Thorn 
 for ever !" was perpetually upon their lips. They would have voted 
 for him for nothing if put to the test ! the purl was so good, and the 
 music so enchanting. They were, indeed, all fervour, all enthusiasm ; 
 the excitement was delightful, and hence with joy they entered the 
 carriages to place their votes upon record, surrounded by an enthu- 
 siastic mob of embryo patriots, and preceded by a banner, on which 
 was inscribed, in letters of gold, " THOKS" AXD PUIUTY OF ELEC- 
 TION." 
 
 This was the first grand step, and the consequence was, that at ten 
 o'clock Stanley was eighty a-head. The moral influence of this ma- 
 jority was powerfully felt : at eleveu it had increased to one hundred 
 arid fifty, and at twelve it had reached two hundred. 
 
 The Swansdown party perceiving that, in order to succeed, they 
 must make a mighty effort, now put forth the whole of their strength. 
 The masters ran about like wild Indians to bring their men up to the 
 poll, and so successfully were their energies brought into play, that 
 at one o'clock Stanley's majority had been reduced to seventy-five. 
 This was hailed as a glorious reaction ; but more glorious still was 
 it deemed when at three o'clock Swansdown was seven a-head. 
 
 Now came the grand struggle. The excitement was hot. The 
 supporters of each party darted from house to house in a state of 
 intense perspiration, while the utmost anxiety pervaded the town. 
 The agents of Swansdown would not bribe. It was amazing how 
 immensely in their estimation the value of sundry small articles in- 
 creased, and with how much avidity snuft-boxes, knives, pipes, paper- 
 caps, sticks, and old stockings were purchased; but nothing on earth 
 could induce them to bribe. 
 
 At this point both parties felt sure of success, although driven to 
 the point of desperation. Bob, acting upon instructions, secured 
 four electors who were reeling towards the poll to vote for Swans- 
 down^ and having, with the assistance of his venerable friend, got 
 them into a carriage, drove out of the town. The widow saw this 
 from the room she had engaged, and waved her handkerchief to 
 express her admiration. She also saw, or imagined she saw, Mr. 
 liipstone displaying the utmost zeal in Stanley's iavour ; but her 
 faculties were so much confused at the time, that on reflection she 
 
202 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 First came two stout well-mounted trumpeters, each of whom re- 
 joicod in a pair of balloon cheeks, which were blown out until in the 
 annals of cheeks nothiuglike them could ever be found upon record. 
 Then c-ime the committee wearing scarfs and rosettes, while their 
 horses with their bridles and manes decorated with ribbons were 
 prancing and champing their bits with delight, apparently proud 
 beyond all other animals in creation. A magnificent banner followed 
 with " THOBN AND LIBERTY" thereon inscribed. Then a military 
 band, playing up with great power and precisiqn ; then various other 
 banners, with appropriate inscriptions, the principal bearing the arms 
 of the town ; then a line of open carriages, with the Mayor, the 
 chief members of the corporation, and Stanley's private friends ; then 
 another extremely powerful band ; then a company of morris dancers 
 duly arrayed in a style the most grotesque, and performing evolu- 
 tions of a character the most fantastic ; then twelve blooming 
 damsels attired iu white, each bearing a basket of flowers, which they 
 strewed with due foresight and skill. 
 
 "When all these had passed in most admirable order, the triumphal 
 car was turned, and Stanley joined the procession. It was then that 
 he had a full view of the scene, which was indeed on the whole most 
 imposing. Independently of the regular inhabitants of the town, 
 streams of gaily-dressed persons had poured in from the surround- 
 ing villages ; and while the trumpets were sounding, and the bands 
 were playing, and the bells were ringing, and the cannon at intervals 
 roaring in the distance ; the colours were flying, and the masses were 
 cheering, and all seemed inspired with joy. 
 
 It is, however, necessary to mention, that this was not the end of 
 the pageant. A vehicle drawn by two severe-looking donkeys, im- 
 mediately succeeded the car, and in front of this vehicle a machine 
 was fixed, bearing a powerful resemblance to a gibbet, from which a 
 well-conceived effigy of Mr. Svvansdown was suspended, in a pic- 
 turesque position, with a short pipe firmly established iu his mouth, 
 and his person thickly studded with crackers, while beneath him sat 
 a gentleman, in the similitude of an unearthly personage, grinning 
 with truly' ferocious delight, and fiddling away as if he then strongly 
 felt that he had not many minutes to live. 
 
 It may be added, as an extraordinary fact, that Stanley did not 
 much approve of this highly characteristic exhibition, and thereiore 
 actually intimated something like a desire to have it suppressed ; but 
 the patriots, possessing a more exquisite taste of the sublime, and 
 being, consequently, far more delighted with that than with any 
 other portion of the pageant, would not hear of its suppression for 
 one moment, and hence, having the power in their own hands then, 
 the thing was preserved in all its pristine integrity, while the truly 
 Satanic musician kept fiddling fit to break his heart, and thus the 
 imposing procession moved on. 
 
 The reception Stanley met with as he passed was highly flattering:. 
 The ladies were especially delighted with his appearance, and waved 
 their handkerchiefs in an absolute state of rapture ; he was such a 
 remarkably fine young man, such a really charming fellow, so hand- 
 some, so graceful, so excessively elegant. In nearly every window 
 
////,/ /. 
 
 X 
 
 
 . 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 203 
 
 his colours appeared, while with the crowd he was an idol, he did 
 distribute the handf'ulls of half-crowns and shillings at the corner of 
 each street with so much liberality. 
 
 These scrambles were a source of great amusement, he having 
 learned the art of making them to great perfection from the chief of 
 the Sons of Glory. It is true there was no mud, which was certainly 
 unfortunate as far as it went ; but there was plenty of dust, which, 
 when duly commingled with the perspiration of the patriots, had a 
 very good effect, and more especially as, during the whole of the 
 morning, they had been paying their best respects to the barrels of 
 beer which were freely established in all parts of the town. 
 
 Having passed through nearly all the principal streets, the pro- 
 cession reached the inn at which Amelia, and the most distingue 
 ladies of the borough, had taken up their quarters. Here a triumphal 
 arch had been erected, with the trellis-work of which wreaths of 
 ribbons and flowers had been ingeniously and effectively interwoven, 
 while the whole was surmounted with an elegant banner, presented 
 to Stanley by the ladies of the town. 
 
 Beneath this arch, as had been previously arranged, the car 
 stopped ; and, as Stanley was acknowledging the joyous greeting of 
 all around, a trumpet sounded, when the music and the cheering 
 simultaneously ceased, and in an instant, as if by magic, a dead 
 silence prevailed. Stanley, from whom this arrangement had been 
 kept a strict secret, looked amazed ; but, before he had time to in- 
 quire the cause, the poor children, belonging to the various schools 
 to which the widow had sent munificent donations in his name, and 
 who had been stationed upon platforms upon either side of the arch, 
 commenced singing a hymn, in which the blessing of Heaven was 
 fervently invoked on the head of their benefactor. The effect of this 
 was electrical : all were touched deeply : the handkerchiefs oPthe 
 ladies were no longer waving, and even the hardy crowd, as the 
 strains of the children fell like heavenly music upon their ears, and 
 thus realised their conception of a choir of angels, were awed, and 
 hundreds of men, whom few calamities could have softened, hundreds 
 who had been shouting, and drinking, and acting in a manner the 
 most reckless but a moment before, were seen wiping their eyes with 
 the sleeves of their coats, as the tears trickled into their bosoms. 
 
 Stanley was much affected : he tried to conceal it, but could not ; 
 while Amelia wept and sobbed like a child : her heart was so full, and 
 she felt so happy. 
 
 The moment the strains of the children had ceased, the trumpet 
 again resounded, and again the enlivening music was heard ; and 
 when Stanley had directed the largest coin of the realm to be given 
 to each child, to be worn as a medal in remembrance of him, the 
 pageant continued its course. 
 
 At length it arrived at head-quarters the inn at which Stanley's 
 committee had been held when the Mayor and the members of the 
 corporation alighted, and having received their representative in form 
 they conducted him at once to the principal room. 
 
 The crowd had not, however, seen sufficient of him yet ; albeit he 
 had been in his perilous position for nearly two hours and that 
 
204 STANLEY 
 
 position really waa one of peril, inasmucli as the patriots by whom 
 the car was borne had been taking a little too much strong ale they 
 loudly summoned him again to appear, and he eventually obeyed that 
 summons ; he appeared upon the balcony, and the shouts with which 
 they hailed him were tremendous. He then addressed them, and in 
 his address thanked them for the enthuasism they had displayed ; and, 
 having intimated to them that it was nearly three o'clock an inti- 
 mation which was well understood he begged of them all to be 
 merry and wise. 
 
 A circle was then formed in front of the inn, and when the wretched 
 looking effigy of Mr. Svvansdown had been placed in the centre, the 
 crackers with which his devoted person had been filled, were ignited, 
 and blew him to atoms. 
 
 The patriots, bearing in mind the highly palatable intimation they 
 had received, then repaired to the various houses of entertainment, 
 at which enormous quantities of beef and plum-pudding had been 
 provided ; and at six o'clock Stanley Thorn sat down to dinner, with 
 two hundred of the principal inhabitants of the town. 
 
 Here the utmost enthusiasm prevailed up to the hour of nine, when 
 that being the time lor dancing to commence the whole party retired 
 from the table. Stanley opened the ball with the lady of the Mayor, 
 and was delighted to see his guests so joyous and happy. Here again 
 he was the admiration of the whole of the ladies, and Amelia won 
 the hearts of all the gentlemen present. Sir William danced with 
 the widow the greater part of the evening, and nothing could exceed 
 her delight : he was so graceful, so attentive, so kind : she was in, 
 raptures. Mr. Eipstone was absent, which she could not but think 
 very odd ; but, then, Sir William was present ; and, although Mr. 
 Itipstone w r as a dear, good creature, Sir William surpassed him in 
 every point. 
 
 Having danced with spirit until twelve o'clock, Stanley, worn out 
 with fatigue and excitement, retired with his party almost unperceived ; 
 and when the carriages were ordered, the crowd, who were waiting 
 outside to do him honour, insisted upon drawing him themselves to 
 his residence, which was situated nearly a mile from the town. All 
 opposition to this was, of course, vain, and the horses were accordingly 
 removed from both carriages, the traces and poles only remaining 
 attached ; and, when Stanley and his party had entered, three cheers 
 were given as the signal for starting, and oft' they went, preceded by 
 a military band. Instead, however, of taking them directly home, 
 they drew them round the town, which was brilliantly lighted up, 
 and it was not until they imagined that their chosen representative 
 had seen enough of the general illumination that they would consent 
 to proceed towards his mansion. 
 
 Having once got upon the road, they were not long before they 
 reached the gates, and here they were met by enthusiastic thousands, 
 who, by the light of large bonfires, had been dancing on the lawn. 
 The committee had at ranged this quite unknown to Stanley, and had 
 instructed their agents to regale the happy multitude with boiled 
 beef and beer. 
 
 This wag, of course, a fresh source of delight to Stanley, who net 
 
STANLEY TITORN. 205 
 
 only encouraged the dancers to proceed, but by way of acknowledging 
 the compliment they had paid him, took the hand of one of the ladies, 
 and having placed her at the head of about two hundred couples, led 
 off the next dance, The Triumph \ much to the amusement of 
 Amelia and her friends, who were enjoying the sport at the drawing- 
 room window. This, however, settled him. The line for nearly an 
 hour seemed interminable, for even those who had before no intention 
 to dance, stood up, to have the honour of dancing with him. He 
 did, however, at length reach the bottom, when, feeling quite sure 
 that he had had enough of it, he restored his proud partner to her 
 friends, and left the lawn. 
 
 A signal was now given, and in an instant it was answered by a 
 grand and unexpected flight of rockets, and as this was succeeded by 
 a really magnificent display of fireworks of every description, it was 
 rationally supposed that the enthusiastic guests would withddraw ; 
 but no, nothing of the sort : although Stanley and his party retired 
 to rest in an absolute state of exhaustion, the multitude immediately 
 re-commenced dancing, and kept it up with great spirit until the rosy 
 morning dawned. 
 
 CHAPTEB XXXII. 
 
 STANLEY'S INTRODUCTION TO THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 
 
 BEINO anxious to take his seat as soon as possible, Stanley prepared 
 to return to town the following day. Amelia earnestly begged to be 
 allowed to accompany him. She assured him that, notwithstanding 
 the fatigue she had undergone, she was perfectly well able to bear 
 the journey; and with feelings of the deepest affection portrayed the 
 delight she should derive from merely going down to the House with 
 him in the carriage, to see him enter for the first time that which she 
 fondly conceived to be the theatre of his glory. Stanley, however, 
 contended for the imprudence of such a course, and came up with 
 Sir "William alone. 
 
 Having performed the distance with great expedition, they had an 
 early dinner, and then went at once to the House. Sir "William had 
 previously explained how slight was the ceremony which had to be 
 performed ; still Stanley as he entered, felt tremulous, and could not 
 help wishing that the process of introduction had been over. "With 
 the exception, however, of being extremely pale, he appeared self- 
 possessed, and after having been presented, took the oaths prescribed, 
 and was greeted with loud cheers on taking his seat. 
 
 The House and its forms were quite new to him ; he had never 
 been previously, even as a " stranger," within its walls, and it must 
 be confessed that his first impression was not of the most favourable 
 character. He felt disappointed. The scene failed altogether to 
 realise his anticipations ; indeed, as he watched the preliminary pro- 
 ceedings, he could not but deeai them in the last degree absurd 
 
206 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 Petitions were presented, and when their titles had been proclaimed, 
 they were thrust without any further ceremony under the table. 
 Bills were read for the third time, nominally bills of great import- 
 ance, affecting the interests of millions and passed as if they were 
 valueless ; for they were utterly disregarded by the members gene- 
 rally, who appeared to be determined to uphold the reputation of the 
 House as a deliberative assembly, by deliberating in knots upon 
 matters of a purely private nature. 
 
 " Order ! order 1" exclaimed the Speaker, when ever thebuzz became 
 in his judgment rather too loud, and as a matter of courtesy on all 
 such occasions it was for a moment subdued, but it swelled again 
 gradually until it resembled that murmur which floats upon the air 
 of a well-conducted national school, when the Speaker again cried 
 " Order! order!" in a tone of great beauty and depth. 
 
 " Well," said Sir "William, who sat next to Stanley, " how do you 
 feel in your new position ?" 
 
 '; Disappointed," replied Stanley. 
 
 * Why, what did you expect ?" 
 
 " More dignity, more solemnity, more attention on the part of the 
 members, instead of this levity and noise. It seems to me to be 
 rather an odd way of conducting the business of the nation." 
 
 Sir William smiled, and having observed that the business had not 
 yet commenced in reality, told him to suspend his judgment until 
 after the debate. 
 
 When the third reading of bills, the presentation of petitions, and 
 a variety of other little unimportant matters, had being disposed of, 
 an honourable member rose to open a subject which led to a long and 
 animated discussion, during which an immense amount of bitterness 
 was displayed and applauded far more loudly than anything which 
 absolutely bore upon the question at issue. 
 
 To Stanley it appeared that senators and actors were equally 
 enamoured of applause ; that the vilest characteristics of both were 
 strengthened and confirmed by the cheers which they elicited ; an<J 
 that as upon the stage, rant and most unnatural acting were certain 
 to strike those who had the strongest lungs, so in the House, per- 
 sonalities and senseless rancour, so perfectly did they meet party 
 views, were hailed with rapture by the superficial satellites of faction, 
 to the utter discouragement of natural eloquence, useful discussion, 
 and sound, sober sense. 
 
 Of course Stanley never intended to be a silent member ; he had 
 resolved from the first to make himself conspicuous by taking an 
 active part in the debates, in the full conviction that by getting well 
 up in his subjects, he must of necessity succeed, and that signally, 
 seeing that he intended to introduce a new style of eloquence which 
 would be at once natural, forcible and suasive. The debate of that 
 evening, instead of shaking this high resolution, had the direct effect 
 of rendering it more firm ; it excited his ambition in a greater degree 
 than ever : he had no apprehension, he saw nothing to fear : he 
 thought of nothing dreamt of nothing, but speaking. He had 
 the highest possible confidence in his own oratorical powers; he felfc 
 that he had the game in his own hands, and beiriq then in a position 
 
STANLEY THOEtf. 207 
 
 to distinguish himself- he determined on making the most of that 
 position ; to study deeply, and to prepare to take the country by storm. 
 
 In the meantime, those whom he had left with his honoured con- 
 tituents to settle the expenses of his election, were favoured from 
 morning till night with demands of the most ingenious and extraor- 
 dinary character. Butchers, bakers, drapers, poulterers, tailors, 
 ironmougers, haberdashers, blacksmiths, weavers, farriers, saddlers, 
 tallow-chandlers, fruiterers, post-masters, printers ; in short, bills 
 were hourly lavished upon them by respectable members of almost 
 every trade, and the honour which under those peculiar circum- 
 stances actuates tradesmen in the aggregate, is, .in general, not only 
 conspicuous, bub amazing. 
 
 The victuallers, however, were collectively the most aristocratic in 
 their claims. Each assumed that he had a carte blanche, and felt 
 strongly that in justice to himself he ought, in filling it up, to have 
 the highest regard to his own interest. The quantity of beer stated 
 to have been consumed exceeded by several thousand gallons the entire 
 stock of the town ; and had the charges for spirituous liquors been 
 submitted to the exciseman, it would have tended to convince him 
 that both smuggling and private distillation had been carried on to 
 an alarming extent under his very nose. 
 
 As many of the claims set in were of a palpably gross and flagrant 
 character, the chairman of the committee notwithstanding the 
 widow's desire that all demands should be satisfied resisted them oil 
 the ground of their being monstrous. He was willing to satisfy all 
 just claims ; he was willing to meet the demands, however exorbitant, 
 of all who had the slightest foundation to rest their demands upon ; 
 but he refused to pay those who could have rendered no service, and 
 by whom nothing could have been supplied. 
 
 The immediate consequence of this refusal was a meeting of the 
 malcontents, at which it was unanimously resolved that such re.-ist- 
 ance to those undoubted rights and privileges, which they and their 
 forefathers generally had enjoyed by prescription from time imme- 
 morial, was unconstitutional aud rotten ; that the claims they had 
 sent in were customary, and therefore correct; and that from these 
 premisses, it resulted that they were bound, in strict justice to their 
 wives and families, to call into action all the energies of which they 
 were capable for the legitimate purpose of " trying it on." 
 
 Having carried this strong resolution nemine contradicente, they had 
 glasses round with the view of polishing their brass, and then pro- 
 ceeded in a body to enforce their claims. 
 
 On entering the room in which the chairman of the committee and 
 his secretary were on the point of winding up the affairs, Mr. Bounce- 
 well who, being a highly respectable man in his way, had been ap- 
 pointed spokesman general on this occasion said, with the air of a 
 man conscious of the purity of his motives, 
 
 ""We've come agin' about them there little accounts of ourn: 
 question ia' do you mean to settle 'em, or don't you ?" 
 
 His colleagues, by whom he was backed, highly approved of this 
 question, and winked and nodded with the view of intimating td 
 each other that in their iudgmcnt thai was the point. 
 
208 STANLEY TIIOBN. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the chairman, with great calmness, in reply, " I 
 must say that I am somewhat astonished, after what transpired when 
 you did me the honour " 
 
 " We don't want no flummery here," said Mr. Bouncewell, with 
 very great impatience. " "We didn't come here to have any long 
 speeches ; we ain't to be done in that there way ; we came here ex- 
 pressly to give you another chance of settling them there little bills 
 without any more bother, so all you've got to do is to say in a word, 
 you know, whether you'll pay us or not." 
 
 " If I thought for a moment that your demands were just, gentle- 
 men, I would do so without hesitation ; but as I feel quite certain 
 that you have no real claim, I must beg, as before, to decline." 
 
 " Then we'll law you!" exclaimed Mr. Bouncewell: and his friends 
 with an expression of ferocity cried, " Ay ! and you shall have lots 
 on it!" 
 
 " The law is open to you, gentlemen," rejoined the chairman, with 
 great suavity ; " you must use your own discretion." 
 
 " We'll smother you with actions, sir !" cried Mr. Bouncewell. 
 " We ain't a-going to be robbed, don't suppose it ! Do you think 
 you've got hold of a pack of fools ? Do you think we're a-goin<} to 
 give away our substance for nothing ? If you do you was never in 
 your life more mistaken. A pretty thing, indeed !" he added, turn- 
 ing to his companions, who pouted and frowned with due significance, 
 "a very pretty thing ! Here ! a lot of respectable tradesmen, here, 
 swindled out of their substance, and then can't get paid ! Did you 
 ever in your born days hear of such a thing !" 
 
 " Shame! shame!" cried his colleagues, with deep indignation, 
 for they felt altogether disgusted. " It's scandulous ! that it is 
 scandulous !" 
 
 " You may think so, gentlemen," said the chairman, with a polite- 
 ness which was really very provoking ; " but upon my honour 1 carmot 
 agree with you." 
 
 " You can't ?" said Mr. Bouncewell sarcastically. " You see 
 nothing shameful in plundering industrious, honest, hard-working 
 tradesmen, eh, don't you ? But what's the use of talking ! You 
 don't mean to settle with us ? that's to be understood ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "Then I'll tell you what it is: we'll blow up the whole affair! 
 We'll serve you in that way. The other side wants information 
 we'll #ive it ! we'll tell all we know !" 
 
 " We just will !" cried his friends. 
 
 " We'll come forward as witnesses. We know quite enough to 
 upset the election ! We'll learn you how to be shabby ! Do you 
 think that'll answer your purpose ?" 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the chairman, " you will pursue that course 
 which you deem most correct. I have only to repeat that I cannot 
 and will not entertain your claims." 
 
 Mr. Bouncewell then started a groan, which his associates 
 responded to deeply ; and when this had been accomplished to their 
 entire satisfaction, each gave full expression to his sentiments on the 
 subject, and with a look of ineffable contempt left the room. 
 
STANLEY THOEN. -209 
 
 As this was the last application, the accounts were immediately 
 closed, and as every thing had been charged extremely reasonable 
 considering, the sum total amounted to thirty thousand pounds. 
 
 This, however, utterly failed to alarm the widow. She would not 
 suffer herself to think of the largeness of the sum. It was sufficient 
 for her to feel that it had all been expended for the purpose of 
 raising her Stanley to distinction ; and to achieve that object she 
 could have borne to be reduced to comparative beggary herself. It 
 was therefore with unalloyed pleasure that, when all had been 
 arranged, she bade adieu to that place of which her Stanley was then 
 the representative in parliament, albeit she knew that Swansdown 
 and his agents were still displaying the utmost zeal. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE VENEBAELB GENTLEMAN APPEAES TO BE CAUGHT 
 
 AT LAST. 
 
 ON the arrival of the family in town, excitement was supplanted 
 by deep and tranquil joy. The soul of Stanley had been fired with 
 ambition. He studied zealously, and attended the House night after 
 night ; but, although his return home invariably fluctuated between 
 three and four in the morning, Amelia never felt solitary, never felt 
 dull ; for she kuew or believed, which had precisely the same effect, 
 that the absence of her Stanley was essential to his success as a 
 statesman, and was happy in the portrayal of the flattering details of 
 a brilliant a glorious career. 
 
 Now, it happened that, in proportion as the intimacy between 
 Amelia and Miss Johnson became closer and more affectionate, the 
 friendship subsisting between Bob and his venerable friend, both of 
 whom had been handsomely rewarded for their exertions during the 
 contest, became warmer and more firm. They never appeared to be 
 perfectly comfortable apart ; they saw and drank with each other 
 every day with the strict regularity of the sun ; and the venerable 
 gentleman met with so much kind feeling, and withal such distin- 
 guished consideration in Stanley's kitchen, that almost every evening 
 he called with the view of playing at the noble game of cribbage 
 with Bob. 
 
 It frequently, however, happened that Bob was absent with his 
 master ; and on all such occasions the venerable gentleman had a 
 game with Joanna the cook, and really experienced so much genuine 
 lady-like conduct at her hands, that, instead of regretting Bob's 
 absence, as at first, he began to like it rather than not. 
 
 The gentle Joanna had heard much of the venerable gentleman 
 from Bob. She had heard of his high-toned gentleman-like bearing, 
 of his honourable and strictly virtous principles, of hia brilliant 
 27 
 
210 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 conversational qualities, and of the general generosity of his heart. 
 She had, moreover, heard that he possessed some considerable pro- 
 perty, which, in her gentle judgment, imparted an additional lustre to 
 the whole. She had, therefore, been powerfully prepossessed in his 
 favour before she had the honour of an introduction ; and his conduct 
 in her presenee was so perfectly correct, that she felt a strong con- 
 viction that the high and noble qualities of his heart and mind had 
 been to some considerable extent understated. It is true he was 
 rather an elderly gentleman ; but it is also true that he was, in her 
 opinion, an exceedingly nice-looking elderly gentleman, who, although 
 in reality sixty, might pass very well for forty-six or forty-seven, 
 considering that the hair even of young men will sometimes turn grey ! 
 
 There was, however, one consideration which as she confiden- 
 tially consulted her friend, the pillow, night after night caused her to 
 reflect deeply upon the solemn and irrevocable step she contemplated. 
 This consideration was a high one, it being no other than that of 
 what the world would say, and therefore one -which induced her to 
 pause, and very naturally, seeing that she was known, not only to 
 the whole of her fellow servants, but to the milkman, the laundress, 
 the baker's man, and the butcher. It was hence in her view of the 
 deepest importance that due reference should be paid in this matter 
 to the opinion of the world, knowing well, as she did know, that no- 
 thing on earth tends to promote human happiness more than the 
 consciousness of being by the world looked up to and respected. For 
 some time this objection appeared to be insuperable. She could not 
 get over it. Many restless days and sleepless nights did she pass in 
 deep reflection. She even went to the most eminent astrologer of the 
 age for the purpose of having her nativity cast, and was greatly re- 
 lieved when that profoundly learned person informed her that she 
 would have two husbands, and be with both extremely prosperous and 
 happy: it seemed to be so very conclusive. Still the question of 
 what the world would say was continually upon her lips while she 
 zealously racked her imagination to conceive a sound and sufficient 
 answer to that question ; for she imagined, and very correctly, that, 
 if the world should be up in arms in consequence of her marrying 
 fin elderly gentleman, it might to some extent interfere with her con- 
 nubial bliss. 
 
 At length, however, having considered the matter in all its parts 
 and bearings, she safely arrived at this conclusion, that it would not 
 by any means become her to fly in the teeth of fate, and that, feeling 
 quite sure that the venerable gentleman had been distinctly destined 
 to be her first, it was her duty to surrender herself meekly to circum- 
 stances over which she could not be supposed to have control. 
 
 She therefore made a dead set at him at once, and called into action 
 all her artillery, witli the view of attacking his susceptible heart. 
 She established in his presence one perpetual smile which was 
 indeed a very sweet one of the sort sighed occasionally with very 
 grest eifect, and glanced at him with constancy, and corresponding 
 bashfulness, and frequently while playing removed the wrong peg, at 
 the same time protesting that she actually didn't know what she was 
 about she didn't actually. 
 
STANLEY TUOtltf. 211 
 
 At the commencement of these affectionate proceedings the vene- 
 rable gentleman rallied her gaily, and whenever he did so she felt 
 herself bound to become so confused that she couldn't play at all, 
 she could'nt count, she couldn't help pegging backwards, and the 
 consequence was that she couldn't win a game ; but, albeit these 
 little manoeuvres were for some time regarded by the experienced 
 eye of her venerable partner with suspicion, her emotion was so 
 deep, and so strong, and so strikingly developed, that while he still 
 entertained the belief that as a general thiag love was a gross impo- 
 sition, he eventually could not but feel that in the gentle Joanna he 
 had discovered the exception that established the rule. He was 
 sure that she loved him fondly, passionately loved him ; she couldn't 
 help showing it ! In his view a man must be blind who couldn't see 
 it : the thing was so palpable ; nothing could be clearer ; and to be 
 beloved at his age, and that, too, by a finely-built, cherry-cheeked, 
 nicely-behaved, comfortable-looking creature nearly thirty years 
 younger than himself, was an idea that flattened the venerable gen- 
 tleman : he felt it very deeply, and thought of it constantly ; and 
 as he experienced a variety of sweet feelings which were altogether 
 new to him, he resolved to be, if possible, more killing than ever, 
 as the first grand preliminary to his seeing precisely what could be 
 done. He accordingly became more refined in his language, and 
 dressed with more care, and displayed more agility ; and not only 
 related the feats he had performed, but dwelt upon those which he 
 was able with ease to perform then : in short, having the most 
 tender aspirations by which a lover could be prompted, he felt that 
 his success as a lover was essential to the maintenance of his repu- 
 tation as a man : although he knew that when two devoted persons 
 try to win each other's hearts, they seldom, indeed, try in vain. He 
 became much more constant in his visits, and was delighted when 
 Bob was absent, which frequently happened, as he went with 
 his master down to the House, and occasionally waited there 
 for hours. 
 
 On one of these occasions, when the lovers had been playing at 
 their favourite game for some time without the slightest interrup- 
 tion, the venerable gentleman, conscious of the high estimation in 
 which wealth is held by ladies in general, and how greatly it assists 
 the imagination in all matters of love, embraced a fine opportunity, 
 which the fact of his having won ninepence afforded, for making the 
 following remarkable observation: 
 
 " Wot a hexcellent thing lots o' money is, ain't ifc ?" 
 
 Joanna blushed deeply, and felt extremely tremulous ; but con- 
 ceiving it to be her duty to say something, she faintly replied 
 " Why, it certingly is an excessively excellent thing ; but happiness 
 for me, Mr. Joseph, before all the money. Happiness isn't to be 
 bought, for there's no shop in life where it's sold." 
 
 "That's hall werry reg'iar," rejoined the venerable gentleman. 
 " You're quite correctly right in that air: still money's a hout and 
 hout thing ! on'y go for to look at the advantages on it ! on'y see 
 'o\v hindependent they are, them as does persess lots ; vile them as 
 don't, is in a wusa state of slavery than the black popplation there 
 
212 STANLEY TH0R& 
 
 out by the JVorth Pole. They're never theirselves, them as ain't 
 got no money. ^ They can't hold their heads up : it's clean against 
 natur'. Jist p'nt out to me a hindiwidual a-vendin' his vay along 
 the streets, on'y jist let me look at him full in the face, and if I 
 don't tell you vether he's got any money or not, I'll be bound to be 
 blessed ; cos he as hasn't, allus looks werry petickler down his 
 nose ; vile he as has, takes about as much notice of that organ as if 
 he hadn't got one. He can't look right straight at yer, him wot's 
 got all his pockets empty ; he can't ketch yer hearty and vorm by the 
 hand ; he can't speak like a hinnercent man ; his woice shivers and 
 shakes jist for all the world as if it vos ashamed of itself; and he 
 mumbles and trembles, and wobbles, vile the corners of his mouth 
 drops right away down in the rottenest manner alive ; verehas, the 
 man vich has got plenty in his pocket can look at yer fierce. He 
 can take yer hand with henergy, and speak up as "if he owed yer 
 nothink, and vornt a bit afeared on yer, vich makes great hodds ! 
 Ven I meets a friend, now, vich ain't got no money, I don't like to 
 see him, I can't say I do, not a bit acos I'm spungy, or anythink 
 o' that ; but I'd rayther not see him. I some'ow or nother don't like 
 it. I pities him ; and, as pity wounds the feelings, it ain't conse- 
 quentially pleasant. If a friend in them there circumstantials ses 
 to me, ' Have yer got sich a thing as a couple o' shillin's,' it cuts 
 me to the quick ; not acos I at all objects to lend it, nor cos I don't 
 hand him over double wot he arsts for, and never expects to vitness 
 agin the colour of the money, but it's cos it hurts my sentiments to 
 see him, and wounds me to think vot his feelings must be. That's 
 the p'nt, you know! that's vere he feels it !" 
 
 " Exactly," returned Joanna : " you're excessively correct ; but that 
 warn't by no manner of means what I meant. I didn't by any 
 means mean to mean that money was no object, or that it wasn't an 
 excessive advantage : no, if I thought that, I should not have put by 
 for a rainy day, as I have done. I shouldn't have thought of having 
 such an amount as I have in the savings' banks at the present period 
 of time. All I meant was, that money wasn't all ; that money alone 
 couldn't purchase happiness, and therefore that happiness was to be 
 preferred." 
 
 " And in the long run I agrees vith yer. 'Appiness, in course, is 
 the thing the great thing : ve can't get through the vorld at all 
 comfortable without it ; but though it is to be found in hevery spere 
 of society from Vestminster to Vopping, vere can it be found with- 
 out money ? I don't mean to say that they're unseperateable, 
 that is to say, that verever there's money there must be 'appiness con- 
 sequentially also ; but I do mean to say, that verever there's 'appiness 
 there must likewise be money. There can't be no 'appiness without 
 it. It stands to reason ; it ain't nat'ral ! Look at them vich is in 
 debt : 'ow can they be 'appy ? I'll defy 'em to do it! It's out of 
 natur' for 'em to be 'appy, from the highest spere down to the werry 
 lowest, from him vich owes his banker art' a million, to him as owes 
 his chandley-shop-keeper arf-a-crown. It's onpossible ! Look at me 
 o'ny jist for instance. I've get seven houses vich brings me in fifty 
 pounds a ear, all let to respectable tenants, substantial men of family 
 
STANLEY tttOEtf. 213 
 
 vicli. never shoots the moon, and the writings is at home. Werry 
 well. Now vot, s'pose I should be throwed out o'place vot should 
 I care, vith them to fall back upon ? Nothink. But s'pose I hadn't 
 them, and then vos to be throwed out vithout the prospect of gettin' 
 another, vereabouts vood be the price of my 'appiness then ? Voodn't 
 it be out of all character for me to be 'appy ? In course : vere 
 poverty is, there 'appiness can't be. They never agree together ; 
 they're halivays a-fightin', and poverty's safe to be wictorious." 
 
 " I admire your mode of argument," observed Joanna, gently ; 
 " it's excessively intellectual and correct ; but have you never, in the 
 course of your extensive experience, found those that are poor as 
 happy as those that are rich ?" 
 
 " Vj" replied the venerable gentleman, knitting his brows thought- 
 fully, " that is a p'int vich requires to be explained. You see the 
 poor is sometimes richer Jhan the rich ; and, on the tother side o' the 
 pictur', the rich is sometimes poorer than the poor. I don't call him 
 poor, however poor he may be, vich has got enough to keep him 
 respectable in his spere; nor I don't call him rich, however 
 rich he may be, vich hasn't got enough to keep him respec- 
 table in hisn. A rich man may be werry rich, and a poor man 
 may be werry poor, and between them a werry great distinction may 
 be drawed ; but the poor man, vich has but twelve shillin's a veek, 
 and vith that can supply all his vonts, is richer than him vith ten 
 thousand a-ear, hif vith that he's enable to make both ends meet. 
 That's the p'int ! So you see, 1 don't call the poor reg'lar poor vicli 
 has enough to make 'em comfort'ble and tidy in their vay ; but ven 
 a poor man is poor, vy he's werry poor indeed, cos he can't get no 
 wittles ; and, as 'appiness vont stay vere there's no wittles, the whole 
 p'int dissolves jist to this, that the rich rich is 'appier than the poor 
 rich, mind yer, and the rich poor is 'appier than the werry poor 
 poor, vich ain't got no wittles to eat." 
 
 " I understand you perfectly," said Joanna ; " it's excessively clear, 
 and precisely what I meant. I meant I'd rather be in a poor sphere 
 of life, with sufficient to make me excessively happy, than in a high 
 sphere, rolling in riches, without having happiness with it." 
 
 " That's all reg'lar !" exclaimed the venerable gentleman : " ve're 
 a balancin' the werry same pole ! 'Appiness, in course, is the uni- 
 wersal thing, and consequentially ve're halivays a yarnin* arter that 
 vich ve think vill percure it, and vich is nayther more nor less than 
 money ; for, although vot you say is werry true, that there's no shop 
 in natur' vere 'appiness, like any other article, is ticketed and sold, 
 there is thousands of shops vere it is, in a hindirect manner, to be 
 bought ; as, for hinstance, if I vos werry ungry, and unger vos the 
 on'y sore place I had about me, a crust of bread and cheese and a 
 pint of arf-and-arf vood make me 'appy ; but if I hadn't got no money 
 to buy that bread and cheese and arf-and-arf, I should be werry on- 
 happy indeed. So, you see, it all depends upon vether you can git 
 vot yer vont : if yer can, in course yer 'appy : if yer can't, in course 
 you ain't. For hinstance, now I vont a vife. If I could get one a 
 reg'lar good un I should then be all right ; but as I can't, 'ow can 
 I be 'appy?" 
 
214 STANLEY THOEK. 
 
 Joanna blushed deeply as she observed, with a most expressive smile. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Joseph, you are joking." 
 
 " Not a bit," rejoined the venerable gentleman : " no, upon my 
 honer." 
 
 " Did you ever try ?" 
 
 " Vy, I can't conscientiously say I ever did.'* 
 
 " Then how can you know ? You cannot know until you try." 
 
 " But I'm gettiii' raytber a hold feller now, yer know, inclinin', 
 as the poet says, ' into the wale of ears' ; so that nobody 'il 
 
 'ave me. 
 
 " Nobody would have you !" echoed Joanna, with an expression 
 of playful incredulity. 
 
 " Veil, who vood now ? That's the p'int at hissue. Yood you ?" 
 
 The ardent and affectionate heart of Joanna now violently 
 throbbed ; but, as she felt it to be her duty to blush and remain 
 silent, she made no reply. 
 
 "Yell, p'raps," continued the venerable gentleman, as Joanna 
 glanced most expressively at him " p'raps I put thep'nt raythertoo 
 close, as yer werry perlitenesa vont let yer say no." 
 
 " Oh ! it isn't for that," observed Joanna, very tremulouslv- 
 
 " Yell, then, I'll tell you vot I'll do vith you. Come, now,' I'll bet 
 you a pair of gloves that you can't, sconscientiously,mind'3 r er, say yes." 
 
 " What a funny man you are !" said Joanna. 
 
 " It vood, I know, be a robbery. I know I should vin." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 " Safe ! Come, I'll make it two to one, there, and put the money 
 down : they shall be arf-crowners, double-stitched Frenchmen. Yill 
 you take them ere hodds ?" 
 
 "You'd lose/' said Joanna, with archness, " you'd be certain to 
 lose." 
 
 " I don't think it, nor von'fc till I have lost. Now, then, will you 
 bet ?" 
 
 " Why really ! Mr. Joseph ! I never knew Iit's such a very 
 droll way of doing business !" 
 
 " Yot's the hodds, so that business is done?" 
 
 " But indeed depend upon it you'd lose." 
 
 " Werry well. If I do, I shall have to stand the Frenchmen, that's 
 all. Come, put the money down, or I'll trust yer. Now, then," 
 continned the venerable gentleman, kneeling upon the footstool 
 beside her, and placing his ear quite close to her lips, " come, visper, 
 and then nay ther the Idttles nor the sarcepans vont ear. Now, mark ! 
 Yood you 'ave me ?" 
 
 The venerable gentleman patiently paused some considerable 
 1inie for a replv; but at length Joanna did sigh and say, "Now 
 really !" 
 
 " Only visper the word!" 
 
 " Upon my conscience I feel so flustrated ; indeed so excessively 
 confused, that I cannot for the life of me." 
 
 " Oh, but come now then vonce more. Yood you 'ave me ?" 
 
 With a faltering voice, and a nattering heart, the gentle creature, 
 in a tone which scarcely violated silence, gaid " Yes." 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 215 
 
 " You vood !" exclaimed the venerable gentleman, " sconscien- 
 tionsly !" 
 
 He drew back a trifle ; and, having gazed in a state of rapture at 
 her lustrous eyes for a moment, threw his arm round her beautiful 
 swan-like neck and clandestinely kissed her. 
 
 " Nay, you wicked man/' said the blushing Joanna, " that's ex- 
 cessively naughty." 
 
 " Veil, give it me back ! If you don't like to 'ave it, return it to the 
 lips from vence it came." 
 
 " No, that I am sure I'll not do." 
 
 " Why,nonsense !" cried the venerable gentleman, throwing his arm 
 again round her elegant neck, " I must test your sincerity !" 
 
 " Don't, Mr. Joseph : you'll rumple my collar : indeed, Mr. Joseph, 
 indeed, indeed you will !" 
 
 Joanna struggled very correctly ; but the venerable gentleman's 
 ardour increased ; and, jusb as he had succeeded in drawing her sweet 
 lips to his, Bob, who had entered the kitchen during the struggle 
 unperceived, cried " Hem '" 
 
 Had there been a trap-door beneath the gentle Joanna, through 
 which she could at once have disappeared, her disappearance 
 would certainly have been instantaneous, she felt at the moment 
 so dreadfully alarmed ; but as there happened to be no such a piece 
 of theatrical machinery near her, she summoned all her courage, and 
 turning promptly to Bob, said, " Isn't it too bad, Robert ? Here, just 
 because I happen to have won five shillings of Mr. Joseph, he 
 vows he'll have a kiss, which is very unfair, Robert, isn't it now ?" 
 
 Bob looked at her fiercely, and said in answer to this strong appeal, 
 " It ain't nothing to me." He also looked fiercely at his venerable 
 friend, and added, " I'm a-intruding." 
 
 These indeed were very cutting observations, and they had a very 
 powerful eftect. The lovers wished lie had been at that moment 
 drinking with Pharaoh and all his host ; but as they gave no expres- 
 sion to that wish, he gloomily seated himself near the fire, and looked 
 into it with a most ferocious aspect. 
 
 As the venerable gentleman could not of course feel exactly com- 
 fortable then, he soon prepared to depart : he took Bob's passive 
 hand, and having bade him good night, Joanna saw him to the door, 
 where he kissed her again, and, singularly enough, she returned it 
 then without any struggling at all. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 THE PETITION; ITS PHOGKES3 AXD RESULT. 
 
 STANLEY had been nearly a fortnight in the House without having 
 on any occasion risen to speak. During that time he had heard many 
 excellent speeches, and many more which, although delivered in an 
 
216 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 execrable style, read and told well in the papers. His ambition had 
 therefore been constantly strengthened, and as most men, who feel 
 that they possess the power to shine in the particular circle in which 
 they move, are desirous of cultivating those accomplishments, 
 whatever they may be, by which applause is obtained in that circle, 
 it is not singular that he, possessing the necessary confidence, panted 
 to distinguish himself in that centre from which celebrity radiates 
 throughout the world. 
 
 Having studied one important subject deeply, and made himself 
 conversant with all its ramifications, he went down to the House on 
 the fourteenth day of his being a member, with the view of startling 
 the nerves of all parties by the development of what he had in him. 
 Previously, however, to the commencement of the debate in which he 
 intended to take a conspicuous part, an honourable member on the 
 opposite side presented a petition against his return ! 
 
 At the moment Stanley could, with great pleasure, have kicked 
 him. He felt in a rage with that man. He might have been, for 
 aught he knew or cared, a virtuous person ; but as he returned to 
 his seat with a calm but triumphant smile, having performed what 
 he conceived to be his duty, Stanley looked at him ! in one word, 
 he certainly would have knocked him down, if the forms of the House 
 had allowed it. 
 
 It is, perhaps, amazing that the strongest minds are capable of 
 being upset in an instant. A man may have a perfect command 
 over his features ; he may have an equally perfect command over 
 his nerves ; but he cannot have a perfect command, nor anything 
 like a perfect command, over his mind. He may be able to stand 
 and walk erect ; he may be able to maintain the steadiness of his 
 eye and the firmness of his voice ; he may be able to suppress every 
 show of emotion, but he cannot suppress the emotion itself. He may 
 have in full bloom what is technically termed " moral courage," for 
 technical the term may be said to be, seeing that physical courage is 
 hard to be defined ; he may be extremely calm and collected ; he may 
 conceal effectually his feelings from others, but from himself they 
 will not be concealed. "Within his own breast they are in full ope- 
 ration :' their influence may rack him, although the effect be unseen ; 
 and precisely thus stood Stanley. He scorned to betray his feelings 
 when the hateful petition was presented, but they were acute not- 
 withstanding : indeed, so acute that they prompted him to withhold 
 that brilliant speech with which he intended to astonish the House. 
 The thing came upon him so unexpectedly, he was not prepared for 
 the blow. He knew of course that the opposing party had been 
 zealous in their efforts to get up a petition, but he had been led by 
 his agents to believe that those efforts had utterly failed ; when, 
 however, he actually saw the unblest document, he could no longer 
 lay the flattering unction to his soul which those agents had been 
 jrom the first prescribing. 
 
 " I have been grossly deceived,'* said he, addressing Sir William, 
 who sat by his side. " Those fellows assured me that the idea of a 
 petition was, under the circumstances, absurd." 
 
 " Oh, it may come to nothing now," returned the Baronet. " This 
 
STANLEY THORN. 217 
 
 is the last day on which ifc could be presented. The prosecution of 
 a petition does not of necessity follow its presentation. The chances 
 are that it will yet be abandoned." 
 
 " I fear not/' said Stanley. 
 
 " Why fear !" 
 
 " Because the grounds upon which they stand are too tenable to 
 justify a hope that the thing will be relinquished." 
 
 "The grounds!" exclaimed Sir William. "The grounds have 
 little indeed to do with the matter. It depends upon the committee. 
 If you get a majority, and, of course, we must have a whip for 
 it, you are .safe : you need not care then a single straw about the 
 grounds." 
 
 Stauley appreciated this remark very highly. He knew that, 
 although in strictly barbarous states the system of trying the merits 
 of petitions by a directly responsible tribunal might obtain, it would 
 be m a country so enlightened as this repudiated, not only as ridi- 
 culous but dangerous, inasmuch as the practice established was of 
 such surpassing excellence that it rendered the operation of 
 party bias and factious influence almost impossible, and particularly 
 in cases in which parties are so nicely balanced that the loss of a vote 
 on either side is of very great importance : he knew also that every 
 member was at that happy period an honourable man, and so strictly 
 pure in principle that he would rather see his own party go to the 
 dogs tham sacrifice or even slightly tamper with his conscience : he 
 moreover knew that, albeit certain signally uncivilized persons had 
 attempted to upset the just and most salutary system established, 
 their attempts had utterly and of course most deservedly failed ; 
 still, with all this knowledge, he felt apprehensive that, wheth3r he 
 obtained a majority or not, his seat would be lost, and was therefore 
 at first indisposed to defend it. 
 
 Sir William, however, powerfully painted to him the almost unpre- 
 cedented folly of yielding, and as most men are guided by the 
 opinions of others if even they conceive their own judgment to be 
 superior provided always that their vanity is flattered, so Stanley, 
 although he knew that the allegations contained in the petition were 
 true, and that therefore, under the system proposed by the unconsti- 
 tutional innovators referred to, he would have had no chance at all of 
 retaining his seat, surrendered his own judgment to that of Sir 
 William, in the full and lively hope of being able to whip in a just 
 and one-sided committee. 
 
 This hope, however, although it sustained him for a time, was not 
 realised. The committee was moved for ; the whip was used on both 
 sides with great effect, and the result was seven to four against him. 
 Tke great point of Sir William was thus at once destroyed, and 
 Stanley again felt disposed to retire ; but Sir William, knowing well 
 what the expenses of defending a seat under the circumstances 
 usually were, and being still sincerely anxious to reduce him to a 
 .state of destitution, shifted his ground, and not only ridiculed the 
 idea of giving in, but contended for self-conviction in such a case 
 being comparable only with suicide ; and in this he was ably seconded 
 by the Widow, 
 
 28 
 
218 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 " It would be, you know, such an extremely shocking thing," said 
 that lady, when her opinion of the matter had been demanded ; " it 
 would be absolutely dreadful dear me, it would be an eternal 
 disgrace, to retire from the field without a struggle, you know, my dear!" 
 
 " Mother," said Stanley, " look at the expense." 
 
 " A fig for the expense, my love ! we are not poor ! I look at the 
 thing in the abstract !" 
 
 "You do, without reference to the cost Look at that in the 
 abstract ! I confess that I have an imperfect knowledge of the 
 expense of these things ; but I know it to be something very, very 
 considerable." 
 
 " Well, my love ! let it be considerable. Thank Heaven we are not 
 beggars ! But we are not beaten yet ! Where is your philosophy, 
 my dear ? -Should we make ourselves wretched to-day because ifc 
 happens to be possible for us to be wretched to-morrow ? Oh, dear 
 me no ! defend the >seat by all means." 
 
 " Mother," rejoined Stanley, " you know me, I think, too well 
 to believe that I would not do so if I saw the slightest prospect of 
 success." 
 
 " My dearest boy, I know that you would not ; I am perfectly 
 certain of that ; but then, although you cannot see this prospect, 
 others can. Good gracious me ! what does Sir William say ? does 
 he not say that these things are all a lottery ?" 
 
 " But how can we reasonably hope to succeed, when we know 
 nearly all with which we are charged to be true." 
 
 " True! my dear:! Has not Sir William again and again said, 
 that a thousand things may be true which cannot be proved ?" 
 
 " I have of course no inclination to resign, which you know : if I 
 conceived it to be probable that my seat could be retained, I would 
 defend it with all the means in my power; but as the case stands 
 at present 1 cannot perceive a chance." 
 
 " Oh, there are a thousand chances ; rely on it, my love, there 
 are ten thousand chances, although you do not perceive them. 
 Besides, if even the worst should come to the worst, we are surely, 
 my love, as capable of bearing our share of the expenses as the 
 Swansdown faction are of bearing theirs ! JJ 
 
 " But that may not be the worst. Suppose we are fixed with all 
 the costs ?" 
 
 " Oh, but you know, Sir William says that an instance of that 
 kind has not occurred within his recollection !" 
 
 " But the thing is not impossible : it may occur in our case, and 
 if it should, can it be borne without sensibly affecting your fortune ?" 
 
 " Of course! Dear me, my love, what a ridiculous question!" 
 
 " Oh, I know nothing about your affairs : you have always most 
 studiously kept them from me !" 
 
 " Pear nothing on that ^core ; by all means oppose this horrible 
 petition." 
 
 " Very well : but understand, that if opposed at all it must be 
 opposed with spirit ; no expense must be spared ; there must be no 
 stopping short ; the thing once begun must be carried on boldly to 
 the end !" 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 219 
 
 *' That is precisely my feeling. Never mind the expense ; do not 
 dream about that. Have everything that may be deemed essential 
 to success. We shall beat them ? I am sure that we shall beat 
 them. It would be such a truly dreadful thing, you know r my love, 
 to give up all without an effort to retain it. It would look so cow- 
 ardly, and would be so- disgraceful, as Sir William says ! I should 
 go mad ! I am sure of it. I never could be happy again. Therefore 
 oppose them, my love, by all means ; oppose them with all your 
 power. Engage the highest talent available. Stanley, my dearest 
 love ! let me prevail upon you : will you oppose them ?" 
 
 Stanley consented. He* had of course no desire to relinquish his 
 seat: he never had; but knowing well that his election must have 
 cost something very considerable, although the amount had been 
 concealed from him, he felt, being ignorant of the Widow's resources, 
 that the expense of opposing the petition if the opposition should 
 be reported " frivolous and vexatious," might involve them all in 
 ruin. When, however, he heard that the worst could be borne with- 
 out any material or permanent injury, be resolved to go on with the 
 opposition boldly : he would not yield an inch ; he defied them to 
 prove their allegations, although he knew them to be true, declaring 
 that his seat should be defended till the last. The battle then com- 
 menced. The opening speeches were made. Coach-loads of wit- 
 nesses were brought up to town, and among them Stanley recognised 
 many, whom, during the election, he had treated with the utmost 
 kindness and liberality. On ascertaining the quarters of these 
 people, he sent an agent to remonstrate with them ; but they viewed 
 the affair as a mere matter of business, declaring that they had no 
 private feeling either way ; that the franchise was a property of which 
 they had a clear and indisputable right to make the most : that every 
 contingency increased its value, and that if Stanley wanted them, 
 why he might have them even then. The agent spoke of gratitude, 
 of course, and enlarged on its brightness and beauty ; and they agreed 1 
 with him , they thought it an excellent thing, and they said so, and 
 contended that its value should be commensurate with its excellence, 
 and at the same time declared that they had plenty to sell, and should 
 be glad to dispose of their whole stock at a price. As, however, it 
 was deemed inexpedient under the circumstances to purchase this 
 inestimable commodity of them th& investment not being quite 
 safe there was. no business done ; the agent left them in possession 
 of their gratitude, which, if all had been taken at their own valuation, 
 would have made a man wealthy indeed. 
 
 There was, however, another class of witnesses of a far more for- 
 midable character, inasmuch as they were actuated by feelings of 
 revenge, and had a certain amount of social respectability about them 
 which imparted a nominal purity to their testimony, and thereby 
 gave it an additional weight. These were the tradesmen whom the 
 chairman of Stanley's committee had insulted by his shabby and 
 unconstitutional refusal to meet their prescriptive demands. The 
 rest of the witnesses against him cared nothing about the result ; they 
 had no vindictive feeling to gratify ; their object was to make all the 
 money they could, and it mattered not a straw to them which party 
 
220 STANLEY THOBJT. 
 
 triumphed ; but these men had set their noble sonls upon his cTefeat ; 
 they had firmly resolved to do all in their power to ensure his poli- 
 tical destruction ; be had robbed them for it is a real robbery, when 
 the thing is properly looked at, to refuse to pay respectable men 
 what is regular and, therefore, they had one and all determined 
 to stick at nothing which could tend to promote the accomplishment 
 of the just and legitimate object in view. 
 
 The committee sat daily ; but their progress was but slow. The 
 counsel on both sides displayed all the eloquence, zeal, and ingenuity 
 they had in them, and bullied each other with admirable ferocity. 
 On one point, however, they seemed to be agreed, and that was to 
 make the thing last as long as possible. It seldom indeed happens 
 in ordinary cases, that opposing counsel agree at all ; but it is an 
 extraordinary fact, that in this case they were en that great point 
 perfectly unanimous. During the examination of witnesses an objec- 
 tion was started at every third question with the utmost regularity 
 and tact, and the. speeches which succeeded those objections respec- 
 tively were remarkable as well for their length as for the sound de- 
 liberation with which they were delivered. 
 
 After a week or two the honourable members of the committee 
 became naturally tired of the business ; but the witnesses in the 
 aggregate were by no means impatient : they cared not how lomg 
 the thing lasted ; it met their views precisely ; nothing on earth 
 could have suited them better ; they were not only living like Alder- 
 men in town, but really beginning to get into flesh. 
 
 At length, when all concerned sare counsel and these philosophic 
 witnesses, were weary, the labours of the committee were brought to 
 an end, and the result was, that they reported the opposition to the 
 petition "frivolous and vexatious" and thus fixed Stanley with the 
 whole of the costs, which were enormous ! 
 
 This to him and his immediate friends was indeed a heavy blow ; 
 but poor Amelia felt it most deeply. Her anguish was poignant in 
 the extreme, and while she tried to soothe her Stanley, whose high 
 hopes had thus been blasted, she would hang upon his neck and sob as 
 if her heart were breaking. 
 
 To Sir William and his associates, Stanley wished it to appear that 
 he was comparatively indifferent about the matter, but when in the 
 presence of the widow alone, his rage could not be calmed. 
 
 "Ton see," he exclaimed, when the result became known, " you 
 see the position to which you have reduced me!" 
 
 " I, my love ?" 
 
 " Yes, mother, you !" 
 
 " Gracious Heavens ! what can yon mean ?" 
 
 " Did you not prompt me to pursue this mad course ? Should I 
 have opposed this infernal petition had it not been for you ?" 
 
 " My love ! you know that I advised you for the best !" 
 
 "You advised me for the worst! You imagined, I suppose, that 
 it would tame me. I was a fool to follow your advice ; a wretched, 
 a consummate fool !" 
 
 " Stanley ! Stanley !" exclaimed the widow, bursting into tears, as 
 he fiercely paced the room, " Oh this is cruel very cruel. You 
 
STANLEY THOSN. 221 
 
 ought not to be unkind, indeed, indeed, you ought not to afflict me 
 thus ! You should consider that I have feelings, Stanley." 
 
 " Mother, you do not consider that Zhave feelings !" 
 
 " I do : I do indeed ! I know that my poor boy must feel it most 
 deeply : but do not, pray do not, add gall to this calamity ; do not 
 increase our affliction by attributing motives which you must know 
 could never have actuated me. But, my dearest love, can we not 
 appeal ?" 
 
 " Appeal ! No, there is no appeal." 
 
 " But the decision was corrupt, my lo-ve ; grossly corrupt. The 
 committee were guided by factious views sdely, and while the counsel 
 against us were demons, our own counsel ought to be ashamed of 
 themselves for having suffered the fiends to- go on so. Now, under 
 these circumstances, you know, my love, it strikes me " 
 
 " Again, I tell you, there is no appeal T And if there were ; if 
 even I could appeal, I would not. I know that these monstrous 
 expenses must materially affect our fortunes-. I am sure of it, quite 
 sure, although you conceal the fact from me." 
 
 " They are indeed heavy ; very heavy indeed." 
 
 " You admit, then," demanded Stanley fiercely, " you- admit that 
 they have involved us ?" 
 
 " No, my love ; no, no ; they have not involved us. I said that 
 they were heavyj I merely said that. But come, my love, all will 
 be well. Come, be calm and kind ; you are my only joy - r I cannot 
 be happy if you are not kind.'* 
 
 The Widow again burst into tears and buried her face in his 
 bosom. She knew that that which Stanley suspected was- true ; she 
 was conscious that these enormous costs, immediately following the 
 expenses of the election, had involved her, and although she had yet 
 but an imperfect knowledge of the extent, she knew well that her 
 position would be sensibly affected. 
 
 And Sir "William knew it too, and was glad. The destruction of 
 Amelia's virtue bein^ his object, he now felt more than, ever sure 
 that that object would, at no remote period, be attained. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXY. 
 
 IN WHICH A HIGHLY IMPORTANT SECEET IS DISCLOSED. 
 
 No TWITH STANDING the earnest anxiety of the Widow to disguise the 
 real state of the case, her true position soon appeared. Persons may 
 with success conceal their thoughts, their emotions, or even their 
 wealth ; but their poverty will not be concealed : it will out ; it will 
 make itself manifest : the more energetic may be the efforts to keep 
 
222 STANLEY THOEN, 
 
 it from view, the more boldly will it rear its hateful head to proclaim 
 its existence to the world. 
 
 If the widow, when she found herself embarrassed, had immedi- 
 ately retrenched, all would have been so far well as that she might 
 have been able, with economy, to maintain something bearing the 
 resemblance of her customary style; but as, instead of acting 
 promptly upon the principle of retrenchment, she not only lived as 
 before, but incurred those additional expenses which are invariably 
 consequent on an ardent desire to preserve a reputation for wealth 
 when the means have departed, the necessity in her case for selling 
 out became so constant that in a short time she possessed but little 
 stock, indeed, to sell. 
 
 This she concealed as long as possible from Stanley. She trembled 
 at the thought of its becoming known to him : the idea was, in her 
 judgment, dreadful. 
 
 " Oh !" she would exclaim in tones of agony, when alone, " what 
 on earth would he say if he knew it ! He must not be told : he would 
 go raving mad ! and yet, how can I now keep it from him ? "What 
 am I to do ? How how can I act ? I cannot I dare not go on 
 longer thus : he will be reduced to beggary ! Oh ! my poor boy ! It 
 is terrible very, very terrible ! The thought of it will drive me to 
 distraction !" / 
 
 But even this was not all. Had Stanley alone been concerned in 
 the impending disclosure, it might have been borne : nay, she 
 would then have summoned sufficient courage to impart the dreadful 
 secret to him at once, for his embarrassments were daily becoming, 
 deeper and deeper still ; but the thought of what Sir William would 
 say, of what Tie would think of it, and how lie would act, tortured her 
 so cruelly that, although in his presence she wore a constant smile r 
 and expressed the highest pleasure, her heart was in reality lull of 
 affliction. 
 
 And oh ! how she then sighed and panted to hear him propose ! 
 She had been for many months in the liveliest anticipation of being 
 blessed by receiving a proposal in due form, and yet, albeit, in her 
 view, the question had been twenty times all but put, it had never 
 been proposed with sufficient distinctness to warrant a formal con- 
 sent. This was very distressing : it was indeed very. If he had but 
 proposed to her then, all mi.^ht have been well, all, at least, might 
 have been without sorrow endured ; but, although he still visited with 
 all his wonted constancy, although he still conversed with his usual 
 warmth and eloquence, she could not tempt him to come to the 
 point. 
 
 At length, having wnited for this important question until she 
 began to despair, her difficulties became too palpable to escape even 
 the tardy observation of Stanley. He had previously entertained 
 suspicions on the subject ; but as he hated to enter into matters of a 
 pecuniary character, those suspicions had not taken root : indeed, 
 could he have got from time to time the sums of money he required, 
 things might have gone on and on for years, without his troubling 
 himself to give the matter another thought. When, however, he 
 experienced a difficulty ia getting what he wanted, his previous BUS- 
 

 
STANLEY THOEK. 223 
 
 picions were re- awakened, and he resolved to have them either 
 removed or confirmed. 
 
 " Mother," said he, " yesterday I asked you for money. You put 
 me off : you were anxious not to draw too close : I should have some 
 soon ; in a day or so ; to-morrow, perhaps ! "Why is this ? Why 
 have you not plenty at your bankers ! The time is come, mother, 
 when I cannot but deem" it necessary that I should know the cause." 
 
 The widow, without answering, burst into tears. 
 
 " Why, what is the meaning of this ?" demanded Stanley, having 
 regarded her intently for a moment. " There is something some- 
 thing which you have hitherto concealed, but which must be con- 
 cealed from me no longer." 
 
 " My poor boy !" sobbed the widow. " The dreadful secret must be 
 told ! I have struggled Heaven knows how I have struggled to 
 keep it from you." 
 
 " What is it ?" cried Stanley, with impatience. 
 
 " You will never be able to bear it : I am sure you never will." 
 
 " Whatever it be, mother, let me know at once, that I may at once 
 guard against its effect.'* 
 
 " Those dreadful expenses, my Stanley : those terrible expenses !" 
 
 " Have ruined us !" 
 
 " No no no no \ not ruined oh ! Heaven forbid !" 
 
 " What am I to understand, then !" cried Stanley. " If they have 
 not ruined us, what have they done ?" 
 
 " So embarrassed us, my Stanley, that you must oh, how it afflicts 
 me to tell you ! you must, at least for a time, manage to live upon 
 the estate which was purchased for your qualification." 
 
 " Impossible ! How can I live on a pitiful three or four hundred a 
 year ? How can I entertain those friends whom I have been in the 
 habit of entertaining ? how can I meet them ? how can I even show 
 my face ? Mother !" 
 
 " Stanley, do not be rash : pray do not be impetuous ? You will 
 break my heart! indeed, my love, indeed it was all done for you. 
 Come, come ! You will be calm, dear Stanley ? You will be cairn ? 
 You will not make this wound deeper than it is, or cause it to rankle, 
 dear Stanley ! Heaven knows I would have given worlds if this 
 dreadful disclosure could by any earthly means have been avoided." 
 
 " Why did you not tell me before ? Why buoy me up with the 
 hope nay with the absolute belief, that our fortunes had not been 
 materially affected ? Why did you not explain to me at once that we 
 were ruined, beggared, comparatively beggared!" 
 
 " I dared not ; indeed, my love, I dared not do it. I dreaded 
 nothing on earth more. But, believe me, dear, I'll make every sacri- 
 fice in my power to promote your happiness still." 
 
 "Sacrifice ! What sacrifice have you now the power to make ?" 
 
 " I'll reduce my establishment ; I'll put down my carriage ; I'll do 
 anything in the world to diminish my expenditure ; indeed, dear, I 
 will ; I'll live retired quite retired. I shall be happy I feel I 
 shall be happy very happy, if you are but so." 
 
 " Don't talk to me of happiness, mother. How can you, or I, or 
 any one be happy when fallen ? The idea is monstrous ! You now 
 
224 STANLEY THORN, 
 
 perceive the consequence, I hope, of endeavouring to conceal every- 
 thing from me." 
 
 *' Believe me, dear Stanley, I did all for tlie best." 
 
 " But do you think that if I had known what I ought to have 
 known, I would have been guilty of an act of madness so palpable, so 
 glaring ? Why was the thing kept from me ?" 
 
 *' My love, you know that I am at all times unwilling to annoy you. 
 You know that if it were possible to prevent it, I would not have 
 your mind distressed for the world." 
 
 " Well !" cried Stanley, still pacing the room with violence. " The 
 thing is done. The .die is cast. We are ruined. Now, I suppose, I 
 may know something of your affairs !" 
 
 " My dear Stanley, all shall be explained." 
 
 " I insist upon having all explained." 
 
 " You shall have it, my dear : yes, believe me, you shall. Buf, 
 although very terrible, it is not so bad aa you imagine it is not, 
 indeed." 
 
 " I do not imagine that we are reduced to actual destitution ; but 
 I do imagine that henceforth our position will be sufficiently mean 
 to cause society to shun us. I can't live on three or four hundred a 
 year." 
 
 " I know I know you -cannot ; nor will there be any necessity for 
 you to endeavour to do so : I feel perfectly sure that there will not. 
 No no, my dear, things may yet be better than you suppose much 
 better. Let us hope for the best. I am sure I do not know myself 
 yet how we st;iud. But my affairs shall be immediately adjusted 
 yes, I'll have them all investigated properly, and at once ; and then 
 we shall see, dear Stanley we shall see." 
 
 Stanley was sullenly silent. A dreary prospect opened to his view. 
 And in the whole social scale, there is, perhaps, no position so annoy- 
 ing, so perpetually painful, or so pregnant with temptation to dis- 
 honour, as that of a young and ardent spirit, who being without 
 influential family connections, and, at the same time, without a pro- 
 fession finds himself suddenly thrown upon his own resources, or 
 placed below the sphere be that sphere what it may in which he 
 had theretofore moved. The uncontrollable nature of circumstances 
 renders the folly it may be termed, the thoughtless cruelty of 
 teaching youoig men to depend solely upon the wealth of relatives, 
 instead of giving them a profession upon which to fall back in case 
 of need, so conspicuous, that it is, in truth, amazing, when reverses 
 of fortune so constantly occur, that the paltry pride of parents, on 
 this great point, should be suffered to supersede their manifest 
 duty. 
 
 This darkly -appeared to Stanley then ; and the more darkly, seeing 
 that he had no direct knowledge of the position to which he had been 
 reduced ; but the widow, being far more sanguine, scarcely gave this 
 a thought : her strongest apprehension was that of losing Sir 
 William ; it was that which, in reality, afflicted her most, and, being 
 almost unable to endure the thought of the discontinuance of his 
 visits, she would have gone on as usual, in the lively anticipation of a 
 .formal proposal being made, had not Stanley, being impatient to know 
 
STANLEY T1IORN. 225 
 
 the worst, insisted upon an immediate investigation of affairs, which, 
 accordingly commenced wuhjut further delay. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVI. 
 
 SIIOW3 HOW A RECONCILIATION TOOK PLACE BETWEEN BOB AND 
 1IIS VENERABLE FRIEND. 
 
 N the reduction of an establishment is about to take place, and 
 more especially it' the establishment be an old one, whatever may 
 be the tact with which it is managed, whatever may be the secrecy 
 with which you proceed, it is perfectly sure to be gene ally known : 
 indeed, any attempt at secrecy does but increase the evil, inasmuch 
 as it establishes a mystery, and mysteries are invariably pregnant 
 with conjectures, v\hich are certain to make the thing worse than 
 it is. 
 
 Now this is, of course, a remarkable fact, and one, moreover. 
 ascribable solely to one's utter inability to get rid of servants, under 
 the circumstances, with anv degree of quietude or comfort. When 
 these useful people have long been in the habit ot giving " good 
 satisfaction," they well know that they would not ba discharged 
 without a cause, and you cannot no act of caprice can deprive 
 them of the additional knowledge of whether their conduct, in 
 reality, constitutes that cause or not. If it do, why there, of course, 
 is an end of the matter : but if it do not, they watch events nar- 
 rowly, and if none be engaged in their places, they sej how it is, and 
 never fail to report what they see ; in fact, they deem it their dutv 
 to do so in their ov\n justification, and that they ought to be justi- 
 fied, is strictly correct. 
 
 Now in this particular case, the afflicted widow no sooner found it 
 to be necessary for her to relinquish her carriage, and in consequence, 
 to discharge her old coachman, and several other servants, than the 
 news flew with such unexampled rapidity, than on the evening of the 
 memorable day in which the servants had notice, Bob received thd 
 following letter iroin his venerable friend : 
 
 " Genal Johnsones Stables. 
 "DEER ROBEBED, 
 
 " allow i aint Seed nothink on yu fore A werrykonsidderbell peerid 
 off thyme sirkumstanhalls Is cum toe mi noLege witch korses Me 
 fore to feel werry fillisoffocle about yu kor.- hive A inkellinashun fore 
 toe think frum wot hive eared yule bee throwed out off plaice if so 
 and yule kum and pig we me it sharnt kost yer a apney tor nothink 
 wile yer out and I des say i kan get yu into soniethink as soon As i 
 kan for beein out is onkomtnori heckspensyve an noboddv dont git 
 fat at It speshly as thymes is werry rotten by wy Dont yu Do me tne 
 onrier off a korl hay kum there Aint no malliss kum and letts ave 
 a Drain toogether As w vcu^ed korsj yu hare a goodi sort an i 
 
 29 * 
 
228 . STANLEY THORN. 
 
 never took yu fore nothink ellse so No more at present from yure 
 "Werry pertickeller friend Joseph coggles." 
 
 The immediate effect of this generous and gentlemanly epistle 
 was to throw the whole of Bob's mental faculties into a state of con- 
 fusion. He read it again and again, with a view to understand not 
 only tke words, but the feelings by which they were prompted. I< 
 was the first formal letter he had ever received, and while it tended 
 to raise him in his own estimation as a person of importance, it 
 amazed him, for he had really entertained no suspicion of that which 
 the venerable gentleman had intimated with so much distinctness. 
 What could be the meaning of it ? What had he done ? He was 
 sure that he had been particularly attentive of late. Besides, he 
 had heard no complaint. Had any pernicious person succeeded 
 in secretly subverting his fair reputation ? Could it be possible ? 
 
 As he sat in silent solitude, upon half a truss of hay, in the stall 
 which invariably formed his studio, he weighed with the utmost 
 nicety, the bearings of each conjecture as it arose ; but having been 
 thus engaged for some time, without bein^ able to arrive at any 
 really satisfactory conclusion, he started up with the full deter- 
 mination to ascertain what it meant, from the lips of his venerable 
 friend. 
 
 It is true, very true, that in saluting Joanna, the venerable gentle- 
 man had annoyed him, and yet, on serious reflection, why should he 
 feel annoyed ? What was Joanna to him ? She had been kind, she 
 had been friendly, she had made suet dumplings exclusively for him, 
 and had prepared hot suppers almost every night during his master's 
 parliamentary career, which was certainly very affectionate ; but 
 then, had he ever proposed to Joanna ! Had he ever even led her to 
 believe that he wished to propose ? Nay, had he that wish ? De- 
 cidedly not ! at least, not that he knew of. Why then should he 
 feel thus annoyed. He had no right to entertain any such feeling. 
 He would be annoyed no longer ! He made up his mind at once not 
 to be annoyed, and having done so, he started off to have this deep 
 mystery solved. 
 
 On reaching the General's stables, he behold in one corner, his 
 venerable friend, sitting studiously upon a basket, duly turned upside 
 down, with a pen in his right hand, and the forefinger of his left upon 
 his temple, labouring to turn a bright conception into shape, with an 
 expression of the most intense thought. The very instant, however, 
 he became conscious of Bob's presence, he relinquished his 
 pen, and greeted him in his usual affectionate style, by striking 
 a pugilistic attitude, of a character extremely scientific and 
 picturesque. 
 
 Having squared at each other with great ability for some time, 
 they simultaneously seized each other's hand, which they shook with 
 remarkable fierceness and affection ; and when these, and other 
 eqnally indispensable preliminaries, had been to their mutual satis- 
 faction accomplished, the venerable gentleman broke silence by 
 expressing, with all his characteristic eloquence, the unexampled 
 gladness of his heart. 
 
STANLEY THORN. 227 
 
 " But Bobby, my Briton," he added, " wot's the matter atween 
 us? Friends vich is friends, shood never be onfriendly!" 
 
 " I'm not unfriendly !" said Bob, 
 
 " There you are ! the hold business hover agin ! the sum total 
 mounts ony to a misonderstandin, and cert'ny misonderstandin's 
 is the rummest things alive. Yy wot d'yer think the hold Greneral 
 did the other day now ? I'll tell yer : two friends of hisn had a sort 
 of misonderstandin' about nothink : they wos weray cold, and coodn't 
 ha' told vy, if they'd bin arst. Werry well, wot does he do, but 
 he goes to the basket, and picks out their cards, and then sends 'em 
 to each other's houses as if they wos sent by theirselves ! Wot was 
 the sconsequence ? Vy they at once returned wot they both took 
 to be the compliment, boney fido, and as each nattered hisself that 
 the other had made the fust adwances, and wos willin' for te meet 
 him arf vay, they met, in course, for all the vorld as if nothink had 
 happened, and a reconcile mentation took place." 
 
 " Well, that wasn't a bad move, mind yer,'* said Bob, 
 
 " It wos hexcellent, cos they on'y wanted for to be brought toge- 
 ther to be all right agin. And that's the case with all these here 
 misonderstandin's atween friends. But it's all reg'lar now atween 
 us ? Eh ? Give us yer 'and ! Let's go over to the tap, and say nothiak 
 more about it." 
 
 To the tap they accordingly went, and after touching slightly upon 
 the state of the nation, and two or three important political points 
 which were just then at issue, Bob being impatient to have explained 
 to him the various intimations contained in the venerable gentle- 
 man's epistle, produced that mysterious document, and having read 
 it with due emphasis, begged to know what it all meant. 
 
 " Wot does it mean !" cried the venerable gentleman, elevating 
 his eyebrows in a state of amazement. " Wot ain't you then seed 
 your old missus's coachman ?" 
 
 " No," replied Bob, " not lately." 
 
 " Veil, but do you mean to say you don't know there's a screw 
 werry loose ?" 
 
 "Haven't heard nothing of it." 
 
 " Veil, send I may live ! Vy the 'stablishment's going to be broke 
 up reg'lar ! 
 
 " You don't mean that /" 
 
 " But I do, and nothiuk but ! Coachman was ere last night as ever 
 wos, to explain the ole business, and the peticklers cert'ny looks 
 werry queer. He's got vornin' ; they've almost hall on 'em got 
 vornin', and from vot I can learn things is goin' hall to smash !" 
 
 " You don't say so !" cried Bob, whose countenance developed the 
 utmost astonishment. " You stagger me regular. I thought they 
 had a mint." 
 
 " And so they had ; but coachman tells me thish ere parleymentry 
 business 'as kicked it all down." 
 
 " Ar, I thought they was going too fast." 
 
 " And so did I," rejoined the venerable gentleman ; and it really 
 is amazing how prone men in general are to anticipate things when 
 they have actually taken place, and how fully their conjectures then 
 
228 STANLEY THOBK. 
 
 are borne out by facts. " Ifc struck me frequent," he continued, 
 " that they never cood stand them air evey expenses. But I'm 
 werry sorry for it ; cos, from what I 'ear, your master's got nothink 
 but wot he 'as from the old lady ; so if she goes, he must go vith her." 
 
 " Safe !" returned Bob. " And it hurts my sentiments very acute, 
 'cause he is a trump, and there can't be two opinions about it. But 
 what I look at most is missis, 'cause she is a regular good un, and I'd 
 CO to the bottom of the sea to serve her. What mu?t her feelings 
 be, mind you, eh ? I don't think she knows a bit about it as yet ; 
 but when she comes for to be told, eh ? Safe to break her heart." 
 
 "I don't know," said the venerable gentleman. " Vimmin genelly 
 bears these rewerses much better than men. And it likevise makes 
 'em more dewoted. I've seen it frequent. Ven all goes on pros- 
 perous, they've plenty of scope to make theirselves onhappy about 
 notbink, and feels theirselves at liberty to pitch into their husbands, 
 cos, as they don't want for nothink, they don' know wot they vont ; 
 but on'y let their husbands have a rewerse, and they're at once all 
 affection. Vot is it they voodn't do then if they cood ? And if they 
 can't get 'em over it, they'll kiss 'em and make it seem better than it 
 is, and try to persuade 'em not to mind it, and get 'em to bear up 
 against it like men. That's the pint! Vimmin is rum swells to deal with." 
 
 " I agree with you there," rejoined Bob. " But 1 say ! ain't your 
 principles on this here particular p'int a leetle changed, eh ? Didn't 
 you used to tell me, that when things went wrong, they'd pitch into 
 you the more ?" 
 
 " Ar," replied the venerable gentleman, whom the question had 
 slightly confused, "that's ven they're reg'lar hout an' hout wixens." 
 
 Bob shook his head. He perceived at a glance the inconsistency 
 of his venerable friend, and being anxious to know the extent to 
 which bis opinions upon the matter had changed, he took occasion to 
 intimate gently that he had an idea that the views which he had 
 once entertained on the subject of matrimony were not precisely 
 those which he entertained then. 
 
 " It strikes tne forcible," he added, " that they're, in pint of fact, 
 particularly different; 'cause I, somehow or another, have a sort 
 of a notion, that you and our cook is a managing of matters, do you 
 know." 
 
 At this moment the venerable gentleman blushed ay, actually 
 blushed ! but on recovering himself a trifle, he smiled, and said, 
 " Vy Bobby, vot makes you think so ?" 
 
 " 'Cause she's a continually sighing and talking about you, and 
 looking arter the postman, and receiving of letters, which is writ in 
 a fist wery simular to yourn." 
 
 Again the venerable gentleman looked extremely red. He saw at 
 once that, in sending a letter to Bob in an undisguised hand, he had 
 not acted with his cnstomary caution. 
 
 " You write a decent stick, though," continued Bob, playfully. 
 " The i's is all dotted, and the hizzards is wery respectable." 
 
 " I see," said the venerable gentleman, shaking bis head with 
 great significance, u I see I've let the cat out of the bag. But it ain't 
 of much odds, cos I don't spose I'm nuttiii' jjour nose out of j'int r" 
 
STANLE1* T110BN. 22D 
 
 " Not a bit of it ! Oh ! it ain't no odds to me, you know. Only all 
 I look at is this, she's a cook you know, and cooks is all warmant, 
 e h ?_ don't you recollect !" 
 
 "And so they are," returned the venerable gentleman, " so they 
 are, in common course of natur' ; but Jo.tnna is one in fifty million ! 
 That's the p'int ! I'll be bound to say you don't find another sich 
 a cook in a day's march !" 
 
 " She's a good 'un of the sort," observed Bob, cavalierly. 
 
 " A ^ood un ! I believe yer. There's no mistake about her !" 
 
 *' But however you come to be caught after all your experience, is 
 a thing which gets quite over me. I can't at all understand it. A 
 deader mystery I never come across." 
 
 " Vy, look ear," said the venerable gentleman, with a philosophic 
 aspect. " Did you ever 'appen to see an unexperienced young grey- 
 hound a-playing with a leveret, a-rolling of it over and over, and 
 a-pawing it, and licking it, and not exactly knowin'vot to do with it ?" 
 
 " Can't say I ever did." 
 
 " Did yer ever see a kitten a-playing vith a mouse, a-purring and 
 ringing to it reg'lar, a-letting of it run, and springing arter it agin, 
 vile the little ontbrt'nate wictim is art' dead with fright !" 
 
 " Yes, that I have r-eeu." 
 
 " AVerry well, then, what do they play with 'em for? Aint it cos 
 they know nothink about 'em ? Ain't it cos they never tasted the 
 blood of them there animals, and don't know wot it is ? Vy, in 
 course. But let 'em jist valk their teeth into one let them have 
 but one taste, and they're alvays then a-hankerin' and yarning' after 
 'em wiolent. And that's the case vith me. I never loved reg'lar 
 afore : I never knowed wot it was to love ; but now that I've tasted 
 it and knows wot it is, and finds it nat'ral to like it, I carn't never 
 be 'appy vithout the object of that love, vich is her as I know loves 
 me. That's the p'int." 
 
 " Well," said Bob, " I hope she'll turn out a regular goodun." 
 
 " Safe to be a good un ! S -fe to be 'appy ! She's the kindest and 
 ornfort ablest creature in life. I never see her feller, and I've seed 
 above a few on 'em in my time, you know. She's cert'ny hout-au'- 
 hout." 
 
 " Well, all I can say, you know, is, may she never be anything but. 
 They do, mind you, sometimes turn out queer." 
 
 " But you don't spose I've lived all these here 'ears for nothink ! 
 No, no, Bobby ; hold birds ain't ketched with chaff, I shood be blind 
 if I couldn't tell wot a voman wo.-*. I can see right clean through 'em 
 in a hinstant. No come, we ain't a-going to be done exactly artcr 
 all this 'ere experience, nayther!" 
 
 " Well, well," said Bob, " you ought to know a little about it." 
 I flatter myself," returned his venerable friend, "I just do." 
 
 " Well, and when do you think about doing the trick ?" 
 
 " Vy,that depends a little upon circumstantials. If your 'stablish- 
 ment's broke up, yer know, as veil as the old lady's, vy, it von't be 
 vuth vile for her to take another place." 
 
 "No, more it won't," observed Bob. " But don't it strike you as 
 very strange that I ain't heard nothing about it ?" 
 
230 STANLEY TUOKK. 
 
 "The most singularest thing alive!" returned the venerable 
 gentleman. " They ought, at least, to 'ave named it, if they did 
 nothink helse." 
 
 " But do you know, now, I don't think it '11 be so after all." 
 The venerable gentleman admitted that such a thought as that 
 might be entertained, but strongly advised him, nevertheless, to 
 prepare. He then repeated those generous offers which his gentle- 
 manly letter contained ; and when Bob had acknowledged, in grateful 
 terms, the friendly feeling by which those offers were character- 
 ised, they pressed each other's hands, had another pot, and parted. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 IN WHICH STANLEY EESOLYES TO EETEIEYE HIS FORTUNE. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the news of the reduction of the widow's establishment 
 travelled fast from Bob's venerable friend to the General's cook, from 
 the cook to the lady's maid, from the maid to Miss Johnson, and 
 from that young lady to the General, both he and Captain Joliffe, 
 whom he subsequently told, deemed it a point of too much delicacy 
 to justify any direct inquiry into the matter. 
 
 The first object of Stanley when he found that all he had to 
 depend upon was the estate, which yielded barely three hundred a- 
 year was to conceal the altered state of affairs from Amelia ; and 
 when he had taken steps to accomplish this, at least for a time, he 
 devoted all his energies with the view of retrieving their fortunes. 
 
 But then how was this to be done ? Should he enter the army ? 
 No ; that would not do. Should he endeavour to obtain some colonial 
 appointment ? He had not the slightest wish to leave England ; and 
 even if he had, where was his political influence ? He thought of a 
 hundred things by which bis position might be improved, but not 
 one which was, under the circumstances, practicable. 
 
 At length Sir William who had never allowed a syllable having 
 reference to these embarrassments to escape him became acquainted 
 with a project by which he fondly hoped that Stanley might be 
 involved in utter ruin. At that time several men of high connection*, 
 one of whom was by courtesy an Earl, having lost on various occa- 
 sions immense sums at play, and being experienced and highly accom- 
 plished gamesters, conceived the idea of taking a house themselves, 
 and putting down sub rosa a bank of their own. This they fancied 
 would be a most profitable speculation ; and as the aid of Sir William, 
 by whom they were all perfectly well known, had been solicited, he 
 held it to be an excellent opportunity for sinking the remnant of 
 Stanley's fortune, by inducing him to join them. 
 
 He accordingly lost no time in communicating wiih Stanley on the 
 subject, but took especial care to proceed with the utmost caution. 
 At first he mentioned it as a mere matter of news ; but when he 
 
STANLEY THORtf. 231 
 
 found that Stanley caught at the project, he gradually entered into 
 the most minute explanations, and made the success of the scheme 
 appear certain. 
 
 " Well," said Stanley, when the matter had been explained, " why 
 don't you join them ?" 
 
 " Why, you see, I have at present so much on my hands, and 
 the probability is that it would divert my attention from matters 
 which require a deal of thought. Besides, you know, I'm not a 
 very speculative man ; and these things, to succeed, must be entered 
 into boldly." 
 
 " Of course nothing but strict honour is intended?" 
 
 " Why, the character of those who are engaged in the scheme 
 would alone, one would thiuk, be a sufficient guarantee against dis- 
 honourable practices." 
 
 " Of course ! But is it not singular that men of their character 
 and standing in society should descend to enter into a speculation of 
 the kind ?" 
 
 " Why, the descent of itself is not very tremendous. The differ- 
 ence between playing against a bank and playing with one except 
 in so far as the profits are concerned is but slight. They would 
 not, of course, Jike it to be generally known that they were engaged 
 in a speculation of this sort; nor would they, in fact, like it to be 
 generally known that they frequented houses of that description at 
 .all ; but in the abstract it certainly is as honourable to put down the 
 bank as it is to play against it." 
 
 " It merely struck me at the moment as being rather singular." 
 
 " And so it is. If it were usual, it would be thought nothing of." 
 
 " Well," said Stanley, " the idea is certainly novel. I should 
 really like to join them." 
 
 "I should recommend you not." 
 
 " Why ?" inquired Stanley. 
 
 " Merely because I think that it might occupy too much of your 
 time. Besides, Thorn, when you play, it is solely for pleasure: now 
 their sole object is profit. There is another thing ; they^ have of late 
 lost considerable sums of money, which they are resolved to regain, 
 .and it is moreover necessary that they should do so ; but you are not 
 in that position." 
 
 " Perhaps not," rejr-ined Stanley, whom the reason assigned 
 urged on the more. " But when we play, as you say, for pleasure, 
 is not profit invariably the chief object we have in view ? Are not 
 the pleasures of play derived from winning, coupled with the hope of 
 winning more ? Are losses productive of pleasure ?" 
 
 " It certainly is not very pleasurable to lose ; but that is an alto- 
 gether different thing. Here we have a direct and well-organised specu- 
 lation, the object of the speculators being to regain a certain sum. 
 That their object will be accomplished there can be but little 
 doubt ; but then look at the anxiety ! what can repay them for 
 that ?" 
 
 " The attainment of their object ! Now it appears to me to be the 
 very kind of speculation into which I should like to enter." 
 
 " Well, but that which I look at is the necessity which exists 
 
232 STANLEY T irony. 
 
 in their case, and not in yours. Of course I'll in'ro.'luce you wit'i 
 pleasure, and I am sure that they would like you to join the ; u 
 exceedingly ; but if you do, you must expt'ct to be annoyed at lea^t 
 I know that the constant settlements, the division of the profits, and 
 all that sort of thing, would annoy me" 
 
 " Very likely. But I. have not, you know, ao much to attend to as 
 you have, which makes all the difference. When shall I see them ?" 
 
 " Oh! we'll go when you please this evening, if you like ; but 
 I should advise you, before we go, to think the matter over." 
 
 " Yes ; that of course I'll do. Well, shall we say this evening !" 
 
 "Oh, yes! I'll call for you. At what hour?" 
 
 "You may as well dine with me, and then we can start from hero 
 direct." 
 
 " Very well ; be it so. I have a few little matters to attend to this 
 morning, and while I am about them you can be turning the tiling 
 over in your mind; but still, if I were yon, I should say it would 
 be scarcely worth my while to trouble my head about it. 
 However, it is for you to decide. We shall again see each other 
 at seven." 
 
 Sir William then left, and as he entered his c ib "Every man," 
 thought Stanley, " knows his own business best. He has no idea of 
 my real position. His advice, therefore, goes for nothing. He stiM 
 thinks that I am wealthy. He hai not the slightest motion that my 
 necessities are as great as the necessities of those whom I shall join. 
 It is hence that he conceives that 1 shall deem the constant division 
 of the profits an annoyance!" 
 
 Stanley smiled at this idea, and then proceeded to calculate what 
 the profits of such a speculation were likely to be ; and while he was 
 thus engaged, with the gain of tens of thousands floating upon the 
 current of his rich imagination, Sir William, who was by no means 
 so ignorant of the matter as Stanley supposed, was conversing with 
 the projectors of the scheme, and representing Stanley as being a 
 voung fellow who had brilliant expectation^, and would be an 
 unquestionable acquisition, if they could but s^r-ure him. 
 
 " But is helikeiy to be caught ?" inquired the noble Earl. " Will 
 he come in ?" 
 
 " That I must leave entirely to you. He is to be managed." 
 
 " Has he much stuff in hand ?" 
 
 " Why, it maitersbut little, you kno\v, whether he has or Bot. M 
 
 " His paper is good, of course r" interposed " Captain" Fileher, 
 who had engaged to be the nominal proprietor of the concern. 
 
 " Safe as the bank," replied Sir William. 
 
 " Then of course," rejoined F Icher, " it's regular." 
 
 And so it was in his view, and also in ti at of the noble Earl, who 
 expressed an anxiety to see Stanley, and heggea of Sir William to 
 briii"; him that evening, in order that he might at once be fixed, 
 which Sir William promptly promised to do ; and they parted. 
 
 During dinner, although no word was spoken on the subject which 
 Amelia could understand, Sir William perceived that Stanley's views 
 were unaltered. He was therefoiein high spirits, and conversed 
 with unusual anima'ion, a:d studiously applauded every sentiment 
 
STANLEY 
 
 233 
 
 which Amelia advanced. His marked attention to her would, in the 
 mind of a stranger, have excited suspicion ; but his freedom of manner 
 and of speech had been so cautiously, so gradually assumed, that its 
 progress had been to them imperceptible. 
 
 " I wish your mamma were here, Stanley," said Amelia, on the 
 table being cleared. 
 
 " Yes," replied Stanley, " she would have bsen company for you 
 while we are absent." 
 
 " Then are you naughty people going to leave me ?" 
 " Business, my love, business. I shall not be late." 
 " Oh ! I anticipated quite a delightful evening." 
 " For my part," said the wily baronet, looking at Stanley, " I think 
 we had better remain where we are." 
 
 "There's a good croature!" cried Amelia. "You ought to be 
 recognised generally as the champion of the ladies. Is it of impor- 
 tance, dear Stanley ?'* 
 
 " It is, my love. I must go ; but I shall return very early." 
 " Well, do not let me interfere with business. But how long shall 
 I give you ? Shall I say twelve o'clock ?" 
 
 " Do not name any time, because I like to be punctual ; and if 
 we say twelve o'clock, I may stop till that time, when otherwise I 
 might be home earlier." 
 
 " Very well ; but return as soon as you can there's a dear." 
 " You really are an admirable wife," said Sir William, to whom 
 the gentle affection displayed by Amelia was wormwood. 
 
 " Now you are pleased to flatter," she returned with a smile. 
 " No, upon my honour." 
 
 " Well, I appreciate your good opinion," rejoined Amelia, gaily. 
 " Stanley ought in due form to acknowledge the compliment, set-ing 
 that he has made me what I am. "We must ascribe all the merit to 
 him. Admirable husbands make admirable wives is it not so ?" 
 " It is amiable on the part of those admirable wives to think so." 
 " Nay, but is it not so in reality ?" 
 " The belief, I fear, is not universally entertained." 
 "I should say not," interposed Stanley. " The moat brutal hus- 
 baudd have the most gentle wives ; and, as you see in my case, the 
 more mild and affectionate a man is, the more advantage his wife takes 
 of that mildness and affection, the more she will tyrannise over him, 
 and make him feel her power." 
 
 Amelia smiled, and was about to concede that, with the thought- 
 less and the vulgar, it sometimes happened that both husbands and 
 wives took advantage of amiability and devotion ; but as Stanley at 
 the moment gave the signal, they rose ; and on taking leave, Sir 
 "William pressed the hand of Amelia with so much warmth, that 
 although she attributed it to nothing but the purest friendship, she 
 felt an almost involuntary inclination to withdraw it. The effect, 
 however, was but instantaneous ; she bade him adieu with 
 her wonted smile, and then embraced Stanley with the fondest 
 affection. 
 
 Having entered the cab, Stanley, being impatient, started off with 
 so much swiftness, that Bob who had anticipated nothing of the 
 30 
 
234< STANLEY THOBtf. 
 
 sort, and who had to run like lightning for five hundred yards "before 
 he could catch the cab to get up behind very naturally conceived 
 that there was something additional amiss. 
 
 "Another blessed screw loose!" said he very privately to himself, 
 " I'm glad he's got somebody with him ; although as it is, I must 
 mind what I'm at. In this here ticklish state of transactions, 
 masters ain't very particular about gratitude ; and there's something 
 a little extra o'clock to night, I know !" 
 
 The expediency of looking out with an eagle's eye having thus 
 appeared clear to his view, he leaped from behind with such amazing 
 alacrity when Stanley pulled up, that he was at the head of the horse 
 in an instant. 
 
 "Another blessed four o'clock business," said he, muttering with 
 great caution, as Stanley and Sir William entered a brilliantly illu- 
 mined club-house. " When every individual winder's in a blaze they 
 pints to four or half-past, safe ! Won't you stand still ?" he added 
 aloud, addressing his horse, " or am I to go for to make you ? Don't 
 you think I've euoughto put up with? Ain't it ten times worse than 
 'listing for a soger ? As true as I'm alive masters now-a-days ain't 
 got no bowels for servants at all !" 
 
 Whereupon he stepped leisurely into the cab, and having driven a 
 short distance from the door, he adjusted himself snugly in the off 
 corner of the vehicle, with the view of having a few hours' soft repose. 
 
 On entering one of the private rooms of the club, Stanley was 
 formally presented to the noble Earl, Captain Eilcher, and two other 
 dashing persons, who appeared to be highly pleased to see him. 
 They had evidently been entering into certain calculations having 
 reference to the scheme, the result of which had put them in great 
 spirits ; but no allusion whatever was made to the project for some 
 considerable time. 
 
 At length, having freely conversed on the various topics of the day, 
 and become thereby better acquainted with each other, the noble Earl 
 opened the subject of the speculation, the success of which he 
 described as being perfectly certain; and having dwelt upon the 
 brilliant character of the anticipated profits, and proved in theory all 
 that it was necessary to prove, Stanley became so satisfied that he 
 entered at once into his views, and expressed himself anxious to join 
 them. 
 
 The noble Earl of course explained how happy he should be to have 
 him as a partner in the speculation, and as his title, independently of 
 his gentlemanlike bearing, had great weight with Stanley, he felb 
 highly honoured. 
 
 " And what will it be necessary for us to put down ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Why, according to our calculation," replied the noble Earl, " a 
 capital of ten thousand will in. all probability realise a hundred 
 thousand pounds in three months. But we need not put it all dowii 
 at once. Let me see ; there are five of us. Of course we must expect 
 to lose a trifle at first it will in fact be expedient to do so. ]S"o\v, I 
 think that if we each of us put down five hundred to begin with, it 
 will do ; but, of course, it will be well, in order to make all sure, for 
 each to be prepared with two thousand/* 
 
STANLEY TIIOE3T. 23i> 
 
 This proposition was made to all concerned, and agreed to, ami 
 when the agreement had been drawn up and signed, they set aside 
 all business, made an appointment to meet the next morning at the 
 house which Captain Eilcher had partly engaged, and spent a jovial 
 evening together. 
 
 On the following morning they accordingly met, and were all much 
 pleased with the house ; and as Eilcher had had some experience in 
 tilting up " clubs," he undertook to prepare it with all possible 
 expedition. But Stanley was in limine puzzled. How was he to 
 raise his share of the sum required ? He could no longer draw 
 money of the widow. Should he mortgage his estate ! As this 
 appeared to be the only way in which it could be managed, he resolved 
 at once to do it ; but as on the day in which this resolution was 
 formed he happened to call at the club, to see what progress had 
 been made, and found Eilcher alone, his views on the subject were 
 changed. 
 
 Eilcher, who had received certain hints from Sir "William, regarded 
 this call as auspicious. He was therefore unusually anxious to win 
 Stanley's confidence, and after showing him the furniture he 
 had hired, and the tables he had purchased, and explained certain 
 mysteries of play, he got him over a bottle of wine, and became 
 excessively communicative and friendly. 
 
 " I don't know, of course, how you are situated," said he, when he 
 fancied that Stanley had been sufficiently warmed, " but men who 
 have the power to command a mint of money are not at all times 
 flush. I merely allude to this in order to intimate that if you should 
 at any time happen to be short, I have already so much confidence 
 in you and one can always tell pretty well what a man is that I 
 shall be happy to lend you my acceptance. But, mind, this is 
 strictly between ourselves. I do not wish it to go farther, because 
 in the present state of the world there are few men indeed whom I 
 would do it for on any account ; but for you I should be proud to do 
 it, if such a thing should ever be required, to the extent of a thousand 
 or so." 
 
 " Well," said Stanley, who was struck with the friendly feeling 
 displayed by Captain Eilcher, " I certainly feel flattered ; and it 
 strangely enough happens that I was just about to raise a sum of 
 money by way of mortgage." 
 
 " Bills are much more convenient. They save a world of trouble. 
 They have but to be drawn to command the sum required, and when 
 met at maturity the thing is at an end, "What sum do you want to 
 raise?" 
 
 " I thought of two thousand." 
 
 " "Well ! I shall be happy to lend you my accepttince for that 
 amount." 
 
 " But what security shall I give ?" 
 
 " Your honour, Mr. Thorn, will be a sufficient security for me." 
 
 " But I think that every man ought to have some more tangible 
 security than that." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! not among friends !" 
 
 " I should feel more satidied." 
 
230 STANLEY TllOIlff. 
 
 " Well, if that be the case, give me your acceptance for the same 
 amount. 1 positively refuse to take auy other security from T/OW." 
 
 This was kind, very kind, on the part of Captain Flicker. (Stanley 
 at least strongly felt it to be so, and inquired when the bills should 
 be drawn. 
 
 " When you please," returned the Captain. " It may as well be 
 done now as at any other time. Let me see instead of having one 
 bill for two thousand, you had better have four, you know, for five 
 hundred each. You will find them more negotiable." 
 
 l ' I must be guidod by you," observed Stanley, who at the same 
 moment drew out his purse. "Can we send for the stamps ? 
 
 " By the by," criecl the Captain, drawing forth his pocket-book, 
 " it strikes me I've a lot of stamps here !" And it singuarly enough 
 did happen that he found just eight of the very stamps required. 
 
 " Well," said he, " this is extraordinary ! I knew that I hadsomo, 
 but I had no idea of what they were. They will save us the trouble 
 of sending out for them, at all events." 
 
 Stanley agreed with him perfectly in this, and offered to pay for 
 them ; but the Captain refused to receive a single shilling. " No," 
 said he, " I am not a dealer in stamps. They are of no use whatever 
 to me, and may as well be filled up for this purpose as not." 
 
 The bills were then drawn at two months. At the suggestion of 
 the Captain, the dates were slightly varied. He drew four, and four 
 were drawn by Stanley ; and, when each had accepted those which 
 the other had drawn, they exchanged acceptances as a mere matter of 
 mutual security. 
 
 " Have you any channel open ?" inquired the Captain, when the 
 exchange had been made. " I mean," he added, perceiving that he 
 was not understood, " do you know any one who will discount those 
 bills ?" 
 
 " Upon my honour, I do not. I never had occasion to draw one 
 before. But I suppose there will be no difficulty at all about that ?" 
 
 " Oh ! not the least in life. I'll undertake to get them cashed for 
 you at once." 
 
 " I don't like to trouble you," said Stanley ; " but at the same 
 time I really wish you would." 
 
 "My clear follow, don't name the trouble!" cried the Captain. 
 " I'll do it with infinite pleasure, You shall have the cheque in the 
 morning." 
 
 Whereupon Stanley returned him his own acceptances for the 
 purpose of discount, and having warmly acknowledged this additional 
 obligation, left him in possession of the whole of the bills. 
 
 The next morning he called for the promised cheque, and found 
 the Captain excessively busy with the workmen, who were engaged, 
 under his superintendence, in decorating the principal drawing-room, 
 apparently for some immediate purpose. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said he, as Stanley entered, (; those things 
 cannot possibly be done until to-morrow." 
 
 " That will do quite well," replied Stanley. 
 
 "I thought that it would make no difference to you ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear me, no, not the slightest. But what room is this 
 
STANLEY MOBS. 237 
 
 intended for ? You appear to have been very expeditious in fitting 
 ife up ?" 
 
 The Captain smiled, and drew Stanley aside. " You have heard 
 nothing of it, then ?" sotto wee " This room is being adorned to 
 give eclat to a private marriage. It will take place this evening 
 by special licence. Will you join us ? it will be delicious sport." 
 
 " But who are the parties ?" 
 
 " I am bound not to tell that ; but you know the bridegroom. Say 
 you will be here. It will come off precisely at eight." 
 
 " But will my presence be agreeable to those most concerned ?" 
 
 " Agreeable ! My dear fellow, they will all be delighted. You 
 positively must be here !" 
 
 "Well," returned Stanley, " in that case I'll come. But I should 
 like to know who the parties are." 
 
 " All in good time, my dear fellow," cried the Captain. " But the 
 tiling must positively be kept a profound secret until the job's done." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! I apprehend !" said Stanley. " Papa is in the way." 
 
 " Out, my boy ! for once in your life out ! There's no papa in the 
 case ; and what is more, my dear fellow, mamma will be here ! At 
 half-past seven, recollect, you will have the felicity of being presented 
 to her and the beautiful bride. You will not therefore on any account 
 fail ?" 
 
 " I will not. But don't let me interrupt you another moment. 
 For the present, adieu." 
 
 " Adieu, my dear fellow ! Eemember the time ! When you know 
 all, my boy, you'll say it's delicious !" 
 
 " This is strange !" thought Stanley, on leaving the house. " And 
 I know the bridegroom ! Who on earth can it be ! Can it bo 
 Wormwell ? Very likely : and yet he surely would have named ifc to 
 me at least ! Well, it is useless to conjecture." 
 
 And so in reality it was ; but his imagination was fraught with 
 conjectures nevertheless. There was a mystery in the matter, by which 
 his curiosity had been strongly excited, and that excitement continued 
 throughout the morning unsubdued. 
 
 He was therefore, as a matter of course, punctual ; indeed he was 
 there somewhat before the appointed time, and found the bride- 
 groom to be his new friend the noble earl, who presented him at once 
 to the bride. 
 
 Well, as far as the bridegroom was concerned, of course the mystery 
 was solved ; but in his view there was something mysterious still. 
 The bride ! true, she was rather a beautiful girl, but she was evidently 
 
 not a lady, while her mamma Stanley couldnt understand it ! 
 
 He tried to converse with the bride ; but " Yes, sir," " No, sir," 
 and " Very, sir," appeared to be about the only original sentences she 
 had the ability to utter. Her mamma, however, made up for all, by 
 announcing it loudly to be her settled conviction that special licenses 
 were far more respectable than banns. 
 
 " Why, I say," cried the Captain, when the hour had arrived, 
 * where's the reverend swell ? Time's up!" 
 
 " Oh, he'll be here shortly," returned the noble Earl. 
 
 " He is safe to come, I suppose ?" 
 
238 STANLEY 
 
 At this moment a carriage drove up to the door, and almost imme- 
 diately afterwards he, by whom the ceremony bad to be performed, 
 walked solemnly into the room. As he entered, he bowed profoundly 
 to all around ; and as the bridegroom promptly asked him to take a 
 glass of wine, he as promptly filled a bumper, and winked at the 
 bridegroom, which Stanley conceived to be particularly odd. He 
 remained, however, silent ; they clearly understood it, although ha 
 did not ; and the ceremony, without the smallest loss of time, com- 
 menced. 
 
 " Dearly beloved," said the reverend gentlemm, " we are gathered 
 together here for the purpose of joining this man and this woman. 
 Wilt thou have this woman ? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, and 
 keep her ?" 
 
 The noble earl answered, " I will." 
 
 " Wilt thou have this man ? AVilt thou obey him, love, honour, 
 and serve him?" 
 
 The bride tremblingly faltered out, " I will." 
 
 " Who giveth this woman to this man r" 
 
 The Captain took the hand of the bride, and gave it to the reve- 
 rend gentleman, and when he had transferred it to the noble carl, 
 the ring was put on, and the ceremony ended ! 
 
 Stanley stood amazed, and the bride's mamma observed that the 
 ceremony, she fancied, was rather short, but suggested that it was 
 in all probability unfashionable to have it longer, when performed 
 by special licence. She was therefore quite satisfied: and having 
 taken just sufficient champagne to cause her to be content with 
 almost anything, she began to extol, with surpassing volubility, the 
 prominent virtues of " my daughter the Countess, and my dear son 
 in-law the noble Earl." 
 
 The Captain then called for a bumper, and all charged. 
 
 "I give you," said he, " Health to the Bride and Bridegroom ! 
 I propose it thus early, because I know that as they have to travel 
 some distance to-night, we shall soon be deprived of their charming 
 society. The health of the bride and bridegroom ! the bridegroom 
 and the bride!" 
 
 The toast was duly honoured, and tha uoblo Earl in an elo quent 
 speech returned thanks ; shortly after which he, his trembling bride 
 and her delighted mamma, took leave and started in a carriage and 
 four. 
 
 The very moment they had left, the roverend gentleman threw 
 aside his surplice amidst loud roars of laughter. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ?" inquired Stanley of the Captain. 
 
 " What ! don't you understand it ?" 
 
 " Upon my honour, I do not." 
 
 " Then it's no longer surprising the old woman was deceived. 
 Don't you think it was done admirably, considering our parson is 
 not in orders ?" 
 
 " You do not mean to say that this has been a mock marriage ?" 
 
 " Why of course ! It was the only way in which that girl could be 
 had ! Mild and gentle as she appears, he has been trying in vain to 
 seduce her in the regular way for the last six months/* 
 
STANLEY TI10EN. 239 
 
 Stanley was so indignant on receiving this intelligence, so incensed 
 being thus made a p 
 the instant, and quitted 
 
 at being thus made a party to a proceeding so vile, tint he rose on 
 " quitted tko house with a feeling of ineifuble disgust. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE COMMENCEMENT OP STANLEY'S SPECULATION. 
 
 To those who have been accustomed to view only the unamiable 
 portions of the female character, as developed on the one hand by the 
 restless scheming creature of the world, and on the other by the 
 designing hollow-hearted courtezan, the mean, cowardly practice oi 
 defrauding a woman is sport ; but by married men, who have studied 
 the character deeply, and who appreciate those beautiful feelings by 
 which it is essentially distinguished, that practice is happily held in 
 abhorrence. Marriage induces a higher estimation of female virtue : 
 it inspires men with, a chivalrous, gallant spirit, of which the pecu- 
 liar promptings are to those who never experienced the blessings 
 which spring from the gentle characteristics of an amiable wife, 
 altogether unknown ; and hence Stanley he being the only married 
 man present during the performance of the disgraceful, cruel mockery 
 detailed in the preceding chapter was the only man by whom it 
 was not viewed as a jesfc. But although he was thoroughly disgusted 
 with the heartless conduct of his new associates, he felt bound to 
 fulfil the engagement into which he had entered, but from which he 
 would then most gladly have withdrawn. He had no longer the 
 slightest confidence in the men: he conceived it to be almost impossible 
 for them to be actuated by any correct feeling, still, having entered 
 into the speculation so far, he was unable to see how he could with 
 honour retire. 
 
 Having reflected upon the matter for some time, vainly hoping for 
 something to suggest itself whereby the speculation might with 
 grace be abandoned, he named the subject to Sir William, in order 
 that lie might, if possible, point out the means by which an honour- 
 able retreat could be accomplished. 
 
 " I feel so indignant," said he, after explaining the manner in which 
 the mock marriage had been conducted, " at having, although uncon- 
 sciously, been made a party to so disreputable a proceeding, that I 
 declare to you I would almost as soon forfeit the money I have 
 engaged to put down, than have any farther connection with the 
 men." 
 
 " Had you taken my advice," said Sir William, " you would not 
 have entered into it at all ; but I don't see how you can call off 
 now." 
 
 " Nor do I ; and yet one might imagine that conduct like that 
 which I have described would form a sufficient pretest for with* 
 drawing." 
 
210 STAKLEY THORN. 
 
 " Oh ! you musb not think for a moment of making that a pretext. 
 Were you to do so, you would only get laughed at.' 1 
 
 " But do you not deem it disgraceful r*" 
 
 " AVliy, I must say that, strictly speaking, it isn't the thing ; bub 
 iu the circle, my dear fellow, in which they move, an affair of the 
 kind is really thought but little of. Had he married the girl iu reality, 
 the case would have been widely different it would then have been 
 considered, disgraceful indeed ; but as it is, being merely a nominal 
 marriage, which may at any moment be dissolved, why, his family 
 are free from the' stain of alow alliance, and his friends look upon him 
 of course as before." 
 
 " Notwithstanding, lie has utterly destroyed that poor girl by 
 blasting her happiness for ever." 
 
 " The conduct of men of high connexions must not, my good 
 fellow, be scrutinised too closely. You must consider the peculiarity 
 of their position. Suppose, for instance, now, that this had been an 
 absolute marriage, what must of necessity followed ? 'Why, his 
 family, who would have considered themselves thereby eternally 
 disgraced, would have cut him, of course, dead ; while his friends 
 would have spurned him for being a fool." 
 
 " But this is no justification " 
 
 " Justification ! I grant you. But a family of this description 
 would rather there should be five hundred mock marriages thau a 
 real one with a creature of plebeian origin, unless, indeed, she 
 possess a mine of wealth. The influence of affection or love in such 
 a case is never allowed ; they'll not hear it. Hank or wealth, 
 Thorn, rank or wealth. No other influence can possibly be recog- 
 nised by them. And perhaps it is as well that it is so. Conceive, 
 for example, the absurdity of such an announcement as this : 
 " MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE. ~\Ve have authority to state, that the 
 Earl of Clarendale will shortly lead ta the hymeneal altar Miss 
 JSophonisba Gills, the lovely daughter of the late Mr. Timothy 
 Gills, for many years the confidential carman of the celebrated 
 Jonas Carp, Esq., the distingue fishmonger of Billingsgate Market." 
 Why it would throw every member of the noble family into fits, 
 while the bridegroom himself would become the- legitimate laughing- 
 stock of the world. And then look at the position of tho girl. 
 "Would it not be one of perpetual misery ? Even suppose she were 
 received by the family in question, this very courtesy would make 
 her wretched, if even their sarcasms failed to break her heart. The 
 absurdity of persons wishing to form alliances iu a sphere far above 
 that in which they have been accustomed to move is really mon- 
 strous. As far as happiness is concerned, the ambition is fatal if the 
 object be attained. They cannot be happy. Even their servants will 
 sneer at the meanness of their birth. In a word, Thorn, the belief 
 that anything but bitter mortification on either side can spring from 
 a marriage of this character, is based upon ignorance the most gross." 
 
 " All this I admit to be correct," rejoined Stanley " In an essen- 
 tially artificial state of society it invariably is so ; and none but 
 densely ignorant persons would dream of forming such a connection. 
 But that is not the point " 
 
STANLEY XiLOllX. 241 
 
 " Why, it proves that this girl, for example, as fur as regards her 
 happiness, is not in a worse position than she would have been had 
 the Earl really married her." 
 
 " But it does not prove the conduct of the Earl to be a whit the 
 less disgraceful!" 
 
 " Granted ! as far as that goes ; but it does not by any means 
 follow, that because men of his caste delude a lot of ignorant girls, 
 whom they consider fair game, they should therefore be incapable of 
 acting in all other respects with strict honour. As I said before, Thorn, 
 I regret that you ever entered upon this speculation ; not because 
 this affair has occurred, for that is too paltry to be considered for a 
 moment, but because I conceive that the profits, whatever they may 
 be, will never be commensurate with the trouble it may occasion. 
 As, however, you are in it, I cannot see how you can well call off." 
 
 Nor could Stanley. The disgust with which the heartless pro- 
 ceeding had inspired him was not in the slightest degree diminished ; 
 his confidence in the honour of his new associates had not by the 
 arguments of Sir William been to any extent increased : still, jealous 
 of his reputation as a man of spirit, anxious to be deemed by all a 
 high-toned fellow, and therefore dreading the possibility of being 
 suspected of meanness, or even of irresolution, he determined at 
 once to go on with the speculation precisely as if nothing of a disre- 
 putable character had occurred. 
 
 In pursuance of this determination, he in the course of the day 
 called upon Captain Eilcher, whom he found most appropriately 
 engaged in the honourable occupation of fixing an entirely new 
 roulette table, the secret springs of which had been constructed with 
 surpassing ingenuity. 
 
 " My dear fellow !" exclaimed the gallant Captain, as Stanley 
 entered, " I am positively too glad to see you. I feared that some- 
 thing queer had occurred, you cut away so abruptly. You should 
 have stopped. Oh ! I'd have given the world if you had remained. 
 We kept it up till daylight ; and such sport ! 1 thought I should 
 have died. But how came you to leave us so early ?" 
 
 " I was anxious to get away," replied Stanley, " and I always find 
 that the safest course to adopt in such a case is that of leaving with- 
 out giving even the slightest intimation." 
 
 " And so it is ; but I am nevertheless sorry you started." Which 
 was perfectly true. The sorrow expressed was entertained very 
 sincerely, and moreover very affectionately, considering that he and 
 a bosom friend had laid a well-conceived plan for fleecing Stanley to a 
 highly respectable extent. " But I say, my dear fellow," he con- 
 tinued, " those bills, now I haven't the cash for them yet. It seems 
 ytrange, but the money-market is in such a state. I've been about 
 them this morning. Eour-and-tvventy bills returned in three days ! 
 that tells a little tale ! However, I left them ; but if you have any 
 channel, I'll get them out of his hands." 
 
 " I can do nothing with them," replied Stanley. 
 
 " Oh ! well, then, a day or two probably will be of no importance ?'* 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " I always like these things to be done at once ; but to-rnonw, 
 31 
 
24:2 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 or the next day, I shall be able, no doubt, to get a cheque for the 
 amount." 
 
 " That will do quite as well," replied Stanley. " Bat when do we 
 commence operations ?" 
 
 "Why, I sliould say this day week. As far as the play is con- 
 cerned, you see everything now is nearly ready ; but there are rooms 
 to be fitted up for the Countess." 
 
 " Will she reside here ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; and mamma is to be the comptroller of the household," 
 
 " Indeed ! When do they return?" 
 
 "To-morrow, I hear; and some excellent sport we shall have. 
 Did you ever see anything more admirably managed ? Oh ! the whole 
 thing was capital !" 
 
 Stanley made no observation upon this, but directed his attention 
 to the arrangement of the tables, more with a view of changing the 
 subject than of ascertaining what had been done. The Captain, how- 
 ever, entered into a variety of minute explanations having reference 
 to the course they intended to pursue ; and when he had explained 
 nil he wished him to know, Stanley left, with the 'understanding that 
 he was to call the next morning for the cheque. 
 
 On the following day, he accordingly went; but the Captain had 
 been still unsuccessful. He was to have it the next day, and he called 
 the next day, and the next ; in short, he continued to call day after 
 day, until the time had been fixed for putting down the first five 
 hundred each, as per agreement, when he mortgaged his estate for the 
 t\vo thousand pounds, and regretted that he had not pursued this 
 course at once, without exposing his poverty to the Captain. 
 
 Having effected this mortgage, he at once expressed his sorrow to 
 that gallant person that he should have given him so much trouble, 
 and stated, that as he had then sufficient money in his possession, he 
 no longer required the bills to be done. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it," said the Captain, on receiving this intelli- 
 gence, " although I gave them this morning to a friend of mine, 
 who promised to bring me the cash in the course of the day. But 
 as it is, why, they had better be destroyed. I regret exceedingly 
 that I should have been unable to get the thing done without delay ; 
 but you know what bill discounters are." 
 
 " I never had anything to do with them," said Stanley; " but I 
 believe they are not angels." 
 
 " Angels ! devils, sir absolute devils. However, I'll get the bills 
 together, and see that they are destroyed." 
 
 Stanley thanked him, and was satisfied. Scarcely knowing the 
 nature of bills, it never struck him that he himself ought to see 
 them destroyed ; and if it had, he possessed too much delicacy to 
 hint that he deemed it essential. That, in his view, would have been 
 a direct imputation upon the honour of the Captain, which he would 
 not have cast, even if he had thought of the possibility of the bills 
 getting into circulation ; but the fact is, as the Captain undertook to 
 destroy them, he thought nothing more about the matter. 
 
 The time now arrived for making up the first bank to commence 
 with ? and they met at their own club, which they had named the 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 213 
 
 European, and put down five hundred pounds each. The Earl and 
 his friends, however, manifested no inconsiderable surprise at the 
 unaccustomed promptitude of the Captain in this particular. They evi- 
 dently anticipated nothing more substantial from him than an I.O.U., 
 and, therefore, looked at each other with great significance when, 
 on drawing forth his pocket-book, he put down ten fifties with the air 
 of a man having the power to produde fifty more of the same sort at 
 a moment's notice, it was held to be mysterious obviously by them 
 all, although nothing was said on the subject at the time. The money 
 was taken, the bank was formed, and the " European" opened the. 
 following night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 18 0KB WHICH THE LADIES WILL APPRECIATE HIGHLY. 
 
 " Now, my precious," observed Mrs. Grills, addressing the 
 " Countess," the morning after the speculation had commenced, 
 " now your sperits is a little bit tranquil, you know, you must begin 
 to look about you as a lady of title ought, and take care you're not 
 imposed upon, or anything of that; because now you are a Countess, 
 my dear, you must do, of course, as Countesses does, and keep up a 
 proper sperit and dignity." 
 
 " Tes, ma," mildly replied the Countess. 
 
 " Nor you musn't be put oft' neither, my dear. You must have your 
 own way, as all Countesses has. Insist upon having all you want, and 
 you'll get it. 
 
 " But I have all I want, ma, already." 
 
 " Nonsense, child ! truly ridiculous ! Oh ! don't tell me ! You 
 ought to have a separate carridge, and a box at the opperer, and give 
 a splendid serious of parties, and all that, and have all the new novels 
 and harps, and pianers " 
 
 " But you know, ma, I never learned to play." 
 
 " "What of that ? The whole world needn't know it. When you 
 give a soree, you know, or anything of that, engage them to play, my 
 love, as gets their living by it. Countesses never plays in public. 
 Don't you know, my dear, that that's beneath their dignity ? Never 
 try to play, and thea nobody '11 know you can't. There's no occasion 
 to tell the world what you don't know." 
 
 " No, ma, nor more their isn't." 
 
 " Very well, then, my dear, then you don'fc ought to do it." 
 
 " I won't, ma ; I'll always make believe that I can play." 
 
 " In course. And mind, never suffer them stuck-up things of ser- 
 vants to address you as anything but ' my lady,' or ' your ladyship.' 
 ' Did your ladyship please to ring for me, my lady ?' ' May it 
 please your ladyship,' and so on. I'm not sure it don't ought to be 
 
244 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 ' your grace ;' but ' your ladyship,' will do for the present. Be sure 
 and make 'em stick to that ; if they don't, ask 'em who they are 
 speaking to with their imperence. Mind that particular. Always 
 keep them gals at a respectable distance : they are sure to take 
 liberties where they can. If you give 'em an inch, they'll take an 
 ell, and you don't ought to do it. Always know what is due to your 
 dignity, my precious, and make 'em conduct theirselves in a way as 
 becomes 'em. Look at that low vulgar feller, the porter. The ideor 
 of bringing up the baker's bill in his naked hand, for all the world as 
 if there warnt a piece of plate upon the premises. And then look at 
 that imperent thing, Susan. She's always a-gigling and going on. 1 
 see her, although she thinks I don't. What does she mean, I should 
 like to know ? Perhaps she thinks the situation ain't good enough 
 for her. I'd give her a month's warning : she don't know her place. 
 I don't think she's much better than she should be, my dear. Look 
 at her curls ! What business has a low common housemaid with all 
 them there curls ? Twelve pound a year, my love, won't support 
 that. Besides, she don't treat me with proper respect ; and I'd have 
 her to know, that although I'm not a Countess myself, I'm the mother 
 of a Countess, and that, too, of as good a Countess as any in the 
 kingdom. What does she mean by laughing, and sneering, and 
 opening her ignorant eyes to the other servants, when I'm giving 
 'em the necessary orders ? Does she think I'll put up with her low- 
 bred ways ? The insolence of such dressed-up things is exclusive. 
 Either she or me must quit." 
 
 " Dear ma," observed the Countess, " don't drop yourself down to 
 the level of her." 
 
 " I drop myself down to her level ! No, my love ; I think I do 
 kuow myself better than that comes to. Her ^ level! I don't think 
 I'd go quite so low as that, neither !" 
 
 " Well, never mind, ma, I'll give her warning." 
 
 " In course. And very proper. I shall make a woman of sperit 
 of you get. But that, my darling, isn't all. You musn't let the 
 noble Earl take no advantage of your innercence ; for Earls is but 
 men, and all men, in this regard, is alike ; they'll all impose where 
 they can ; and you don't ought to suffer him to do it. Assume 
 enough, my precious. Begin as you mean to go on. There's nothing 
 like striking the iron while it's hot. It eaves a world of trouble, my 
 dear. If you wait till a man gets cool, you'll find him very difficult 
 to bend to your own shape ; but if you tell him at first what you 
 mean, you 'stablish your dignity, and when he knows what he has to 
 expect, why he aiu't after that disapp'inted. You take my advice, 
 my love, and insist upon doing what you please ; there's nothing like 
 it. A w r oman ain't a woman of sperit as don't, and 'specially a 
 Countess. You must go out a patternizing people, particular them 
 foreigners as sings ; and give blankets away to the poor in cold 
 weather . it all tells, my love, to make a noise in the world. And 
 when you go a- shopping, make 'era bring the goods out to the car- 
 ridge, instead of going in ; and when you don't want your carridge, 
 have a footman behind you with a long stick, with a large gold nob at 
 the top. Nothing on earth, my dear, looks so respectable as (h:it ; 
 
STATflYEY THOftTC. 245 
 
 and the taller the footman, and the longer the stick is the better. 
 Besides, you haven't been to court yet ; nor I haven't seen your name 
 a single once in the papers ! And another thing, the Earl hasn't once 
 introduced you to his family !" 
 
 " Oh ! ma!" exclaimed the Countess, "I 'should tremble like any- 
 thing, I know, if he was." 
 
 " Tremble ! Fiddlededee ! Why should you tremble ? You're as 
 good as them any day in the week." 
 
 " Oh, dear, ma ! I shiver at the very thought. "What I should do 
 when I saw 'em I can't think. I'm sure I should turn as pale as 1 
 don't know what." 
 
 " Pale, my precious ! What do that signifies ? Paint all Coun- 
 tesses paints and then nobody'll know whether you turn pale 
 or not." 
 
 " Oh ! but I should feel so queer, I know I should." 
 
 " Eubbish, my love ! "What's to make you feel queer ? Always 
 look upon people as being beneath you ; there's nothing on earth 
 gives such confidence as that. If you look up to them, they'll look 
 down upon you ; that's the way people gets over people, my precious. 
 And then there's another thing : where is your cards ? I never heard 
 of such a thing as a Countess without cards ! "We'll go and order 
 'em this blessed morning, my love, and have your coat of arms upon 
 'em, you know, and all that. Nothing can be done without cards. 
 And then I'll tell you what we'll do while we're about it. Dear me ! 
 now, how strange it never struck me before ! it \vill be the very 
 thing my love, we'll order a whole lot of invitation cards at the 
 same time. And then we'll get up a party, and invite all the other 
 nobility in town; all the Duchesses and all the Marquisses, and all 
 the Earls, and all the foreign ambassadors and their suits. Oh ! we'll 
 have such a jolly night of it, my precious !" 
 
 " But will my lord like it ?" 
 
 " There's not the least occasion, my love, to let him know anything 
 about it until they all come, and then, oh ! won't it be an agreeable 
 surprise ! But let's see who can we get now to manage it all for us ? 
 It must be somebody that knows all about it, you know. There's 
 the Captain : but I don't like that Captain : he's always a sneering, 
 and smirking, and going on so, as if we warn't as good as him, and 
 a precious sight better. I can't a-bear such ways !" 
 
 " There's Mr. Thorn, ma !" suggested the Countess. 
 
 "Ah! he's a nice gentleman. He'd be the one. He knows how 
 to behave hisself. Nobody can conduct theirselves more gentle- 
 manlier than him. He'll manage it for us. I know he will if I 
 ask him." 
 
 Bt this moment Stanley was dashing down the ^treet in his cab, 
 with the view of ascertaining the result of the previous night's play ; 
 but as, on pulling up, he happened to see a person in livery at the 
 door of the European, he laid the whip into Marmion with so much 
 effect, that the animal, darting off in an instant, left Bob, who had got 
 down with all his wonted alacrity, a considerable distance in the rear 
 before he had time to recover his faculties, the whole of which had 
 been thus unceremoniously upset. Feeling, however, that he had not 
 
246 STANLEY THOETT. 
 
 a single moment to loss, and being moreover extremely swift of foot, 
 he, by virtue of making a desperate rush, soon overtook the cab and 
 remounted. 
 
 " Well," he exclaimed, " I should on'y jusfc like to know what's 
 o'clock now ! There's something in the weather glass, safe ! As true 
 as I'm alive, I don't know what's come to all the masters. Here's a 
 mess here's a pickle !" he added, taking a retrospective view of 
 his clothes, splashed up to the very eyes ! a full hour and arf's 
 brushing ; it ain't to be 'done under. I'm blessed if it ain't enough 
 to aggrawate a bishop. If he didn't mean to stop there at all, 
 what did he make believe to pull up for." 
 
 That was the point; and while Bob was thus occupied in giving 
 expression to his own private feelings upon it, Stanley's rage was 
 unbounded ; for as Venerable Joe was the person whom he saw, 
 but whom Bob in his desperate haste failed to see, he leaped at once 
 to the conclusion that the General, having heard of the speculation 
 into which he had entered, had planted him there as a spy. 
 
 Such was, however, by no means the fact ; and, in order to prove 
 that it was not, it will be highly correct to accompany the venerable 
 gentleman, who, after laughing very heartily at Bob's rapid movements, 
 and wondering very naturally what it all meant, was admitted 
 between the outer doors of the " European," when he sent up his 
 name to Mrs. Gills, whom he had had the honour of knowing for a 
 series of years. 
 
 Mrs. Gills, on the name being announced, blushed deeply as she 
 repeated it again and again, marvelling who, in the name of all that 
 was gracious, it could be, and bit her lips with due violence as she 
 protested that the singular cognomen of the individual lived not in 
 her memory; still she thought somehow she had heard the name 
 somewhere but where? Eventually by a miracle she recollected that 
 there was a sort of person of that name in the service of General 
 Johnson, a very intimate friend of hers, from whom, she had no 
 doubt on earth, this person had brought some strictly confidential 
 communication. She therefore directed the servant to show the 
 person into the parlour; and, after having explained most lucidly to 
 the Countess how essential to the preservation of dignity it was to 
 repudiate all low connections, descended from the drawing-room with 
 all the severity of aspect and stateliness of deportment at her 
 command. 
 
 On entering the room in which the venerable gentleman stood, 
 marvelling greatly at the fact of his being shown into a parlour, Mrs. 
 Gills reared her chin, and bowed with such surpassing grace, that in 
 an instant he felt friendship freezing. He nevertheless approached, 
 and was about to^.take her hand, which, however, she with a truly 
 icy elegance waved towards a chair, and with an expression of sub- 
 limity desired him to be seated. 
 
 " Tour manners is very cold, Mrs. Gills," observed the venerable 
 gentleman, who could not but deem all this deeply mysterious. 
 " Have I offended you in anythink ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear me, no !" replied the lady, tossing her lieid with a most- 
 superb air. 
 
STANLEY TIIOUN. 247 
 
 " Oh ! I thought p'raps I had," rejoined the venerable- gentleman, 
 " as you seems to be weny much changed. I shouldn't a-ealled, 
 o'ny 1'appened to 'ear that Sophy was married." 
 
 " My daughter, sir, the Countess of Olarendale, is married," 
 returned Mrs. Gills with great dignity. 
 
 The venerable gentleman looked amazed. Could he believe it ? 
 Could he believe that the same individual Sophy, whom Mrs. Gills 
 tried so extremely hard to plant upon him, was a Countess ? He 
 was about to take a comprehensive view of the matter, in order to 
 ascertain whether he could really believe it or not : but Mrs. Gills 
 interposed [at the moment an observation which rendered his 
 imaginative faculties subservient to the influence of straightforward 
 facts. 
 
 " As circumstances is so much changed," tLis was the memorable 
 observation, " and as you must in course be aware that there's now 
 a propriety aa is proper to be observed, may I inquire your object in 
 honnering us with this visit ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I on'y merely thought I'd look in to give Sophy I mean 
 the Countess joy." 
 
 " Sir," said the lady, apparently quite shocked at the vulgar idea, 
 " I'd have you understand that my son-in-law, the noble Ear), ain't a 
 mechanic." 
 
 " I didn't s'pose he vos. There's wery few noble Hurls as is. But 
 can't I see the Countess ? I should like to see her." 
 
 "Impossible. It ain't because I'm proud, no; but what would 
 the noble Earl say ? Why, he'd think it a disgrace to his 
 'scutcheon." 
 
 " It strikes me forcible," said the venerable gentleman, who 
 felt rather piqued, " that half vofc you know about ''scutcheons ain'l; 
 much." 
 
 " "Well, I'm sure ! I'd have you to know I don't tolerate no inso- 
 lence, and so you needn't come it." 
 
 " Oh ! werry well, muni. But I must say, as a hold friend, I 
 didn't expect to be treated in this 'ear upish vay." 
 
 " You may think yourself honnered that I saw you at all. I know 
 I didn't ought to do it ; but I beg, sir, that in future we mayn't be 
 troubled by your calling any more." 
 
 " Oh ! that you may take your hoath on. But as I remember 
 there's a little trifle atween us of seventeen and sixpence, p'raps it 
 von't be hinconvenient for you to settle vithout my summonsing on 
 you to the court of requests ?" 
 
 " "What do yo'u mean to insitiiwate P" cried the lady, " seventeen 
 and sixpence, or seventeen hundred pounds seventeen and sixpence ; 
 it's all one to me ! I'll discharge the paltry sum, sir, immediate ! 
 what do you mean ?" 
 
 Mrs. Gills, being highly indignant, was about to bounce out of the 
 room for her purse, when the folding-doors opened, and the Countess, 
 who had been listening in the adjoining room, appeared. 
 
 " Dear ma !" she exclaimed, " here's a purse . but don't be angry 
 with Mr. Joseph. You know he has always been kind to us, ma.'" 
 And she extended her hand to the venerable gentleman, who was- 
 
248 STANLEY THOIIJT. 
 
 about to receive it with the utmost respect, when Mrs. Grills promptly 
 interposed her person, exclaiming, 
 
 " My precious ! What would the noble Earl say ? what would he 
 think were he to see you shaking hands with a person in livery ? Pie ! 
 my love, fie ! I'm putriiied to think that you haven't more respect 
 for your dignity." 
 
 " Well, ma, I'm sure there's no harm in shaking hands." 
 
 " There is harm, my love ! Gracious ! what would the world say ? 
 What would be thought of you in high life ? Why, you wouldn't be 
 received in good society ! Consider !" 
 
 " My lady," said the venerable gentleman, " for though it seem a 
 werry rum,. I am still glad to call you my lady I vornt at all avare 
 as you'd married a Hurl, or I shoodn't a-come ; no, I know my place 
 better ; but I s'pose they vos bavin' a game vi' me rayther ven they 
 guv me your address, and said they thought I ought to call. Hows- 
 ever, I'm glad to 'ear of your good fortun, and give you joy, and 'ope 
 you'll alvays be 'appy ; but I must say your mother aint treated me 
 veil ; cos under the circumstantials, knowing her so veil, as I have 
 done so long, and bein' alvays werry glad to do all I could to serve 
 her ven she vos but a servant like myself, I do think that if heven 
 you'd become the Queen of Hingland, she oughn't to ba so 
 stuck up." 
 
 During the delivery of this eloquent speech, Mrs. Gills, with 
 excessive liauieur, was counting out the seventeen and sixpence, and 
 having done so, in due form tendered the amoiiut. But the vene- 
 rable gentleman disdained to receive it. 
 
 " I'll not touch it !" he exclaimed with magnanimity. "No; it 
 uin't that as I care for ; twenty times the sum don't make no hods to 
 me!" 
 
 " But I insist !" cried the lady. 
 
 " So you may, mum : but I'd jist as soon touch a dose of piaon." 
 
 " But you shall have it, sir !" 
 
 " Not a penny on it ; no ; I vish you a werry good day, mum. I 
 don't," he continued, addressing the Countess, " mean any disre- 
 spect to your ladyship. I voodn't offend you for the vorld ; but it's 
 a hold savin' an' a true un about the beggar on ossback." And 
 Hereupon, feeling much better in consequence of having made this 
 observation, he quitted the house. 
 
 " The low-bred creature!" exclaimed Mrs. Gills, as the venerable 
 gentleman departed. 
 
 " But you shouldn't go on so, ma," said the Countess. " People 
 don't like it." 
 
 " Of what importance is it to us, child, what such people like, or 
 what they don't like ? You must know what is due to your own 
 dignity, my love, or you'll never be fit to be a countess. I declare 
 I'm in such a flustration I don't know how to contain myself. Oh, 
 I only wish for his sake I'd been a 111,1 n." 
 
 Before the nerves of this amiable lady had become tranquil, 
 Stanley having taken an impetuous sweep round the Park, returned 
 with the full determination to enter the club, no matter who might 
 be on the watch. Bob, however, allowed him to make a dead stop 
 
STANLEY TIIOKN. 249 
 
 before lie attempted again to alight, for he felt, and very naturally, 
 that he had bad enough running for one day at least. 
 
 " You look like a scavenger," said Stanley, as Bob approached 
 Mansion's head. " Where did you pick up that mud ?" 
 
 " A pelting arter you, sir, \\hea you made believe to stop here 
 afore," replied Bob. 
 
 Stanley smiled as he entered the house, and Bob thought that his 
 reply was particularly pointed and severe, and he winked confiden- 
 tially at Mannion on the door being closed, with the view of inti- 
 mating to that sagacious animal that that really was his unbiassed 
 opinion. "It strikes me I shut up his shop, then," he observed. 
 " There's nothing like getting the best of a master. Directly they 
 find out they're wrong, they cuts their, sticks with their tails atween 
 their legs, dead beat," 
 
 On entering the principal play-room, Stanley ascertained from one 
 of the attendants that the bank had been on the previous night well 
 nigh broken. He was also informed that the persons who had won 
 had signified their intention of playing that night, when, doubtless, 
 the luck would be changed ; and that it was deemed by the highest 
 authorities politic to let a bank lose at first, in order not only to stimu- 
 late players, but to inspire due confidence by virtue of its stability 
 being tested. 
 
 To this fellow's description of the extraordinary "run of luck" 
 which had characterised the play, Stanley listened with the most 
 marked attention. The prospect seemed cheerless. Two thousand 
 five hundred pounds lost in one night, His high hopes were 
 depressed. It was a "Bear" account with him: and yet, why 
 should he despair ? Had not the Earl himself told him, before they 
 commenced, that they ought as a matter of course to lose at first ? 
 "Why then should he feel disappointed ? He tried to revive his hopes 
 by looking upon their depression under the circumstances as the 
 mere result of folly, and having learned that his partners in the 
 speculation had appointed to meet at eight, for the purpose of reple- 
 nishing the bank, he was about to take leave, when he was formally 
 summoned by the Countess and her mamma, 
 
 On entering the drawing-room, he was received with unusual 
 parade. Mrs. Grills was particularly fussy, and hoped that he was 
 well, and rang for the cake and wine, and most eloquently laboured 
 to convey to him an idea of the delight she was sure she should 
 derive from an early introduction to Mrs. Thorn. " Oh ! do bring 
 her with you, some day," she continued, " and let us have a quiet 
 cup of tea. It will be so delightful, you can't think. I'm sure she'a 
 a, dear nice lady ; I am sure of it, judging from you." 
 
 Stanley smiled, and acknowledged the compliment profoundly, and 
 said all that was necessary to convince Mrs. Gills that he thought 
 her extremely polite. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Thorn, I've a secret," she continued, " a secret 
 which I don't want anybody to know on but you. I know I can 
 trust you, and I'm sure you'll assist us. The fact is, my daughter, 
 the Countess, and me, is a-thinking of getting up a party, lor we 
 finds it very lonely a-mumping here alone. JN"o\v in course vou know 
 32 
 
250 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 all about the other nobility, the Dukes, Lords, Wise-counts, Ambas- 
 sadors, and such like ; and, as we have never yet given a jollification 
 all we want is, for you just to put us in the way of it." 
 
 " I should think,'" returned Stanley, " that the Earl would be th( 
 more proper person to apply to." 
 
 " Oh ! but we want to do it unbeknown to him ! We want to 
 surprise him ! to show him just what we can do. Oh, it will be so 
 glorious ! You and Mrs. Thorn must come and meet all the nobility. 
 Oh ! we shall have such a frolic !" 
 
 Stanley could not help laughing. He thought the conception 
 excessively rich, and one which ought to be carried into immediate 
 execution. Feeling, however, that he was not in a position to enter 
 into the spirit of the thing himself, he advised them to apply to Cap- 
 tain Filcher, whom he described as being perfectly conversant with 
 matters of that description, and who, he doubted not, would be but 
 too happy to aid them. 
 
 " But does he know all about the invitation-cards, the etiquettes, 
 and all that ?" inquired Mrs. Gills, anxiously. 
 
 " My firm impression is," replied Stanley, " that in a case of this 
 peculiar character, you cannot have the aid of a more useful man." 
 
 " Oh, well, then, I'm sure I'll apply to him. I'm certain he won't 
 refuse. But do you think he'll keep the thing a secret ?" 
 
 " I have not the slightest doubt of it," said Stanley. Nor had he. 
 He believed him to be the very man to carry out the idea to perfec- 
 tion ; and, having explained to them how strongly he felt that the 
 Captain would be delighted to serve them in such a merry cause, he 
 received their warmest thanks and departed, 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 IS 017E WHICH GENTLEMEN WILL NOT CONDEMN. 
 
 As the bank was impoverished every night, notwithstanding immense 
 sums of money were lost by the majority of the players, Stanley 
 soon began to view the speculation as a failure. He thought it strange 
 that with the chances in favour of the table, and with experienced 
 men for managers, the bank should so constantly lose ; and that he 
 did think it strange was not extraordinary, seeing that he was per- 
 fectly unconscious of the fact that the projectors of the scheme, 
 through the instrumentality of confederates, were realising fortunes. 
 He knew nothing of the villanous system pursued : he had no idea of 
 knaves being deputed nightly by the two persons with whom the 
 speculation originated to fieece the fair players, and to plunder the 
 bank. He thought that, of course, all was square as far as they were 
 concerned, and yet it struck him as being singular that their spirits 
 should be raised after each night's loss. Instead, however of thinking 
 of confederacy, false dice, " despatching," and " securing," and 
 
STANLEY THORN. 251 
 
 thereby attributing all to the true cause, he imbibed the pernicious 
 soul-enslaving doctrine of Destiny, and madly ascribed all his losses 
 to Fate. 
 
 This made him wretched, irascible, and occasionally, although 
 perhaps involuntarily, brutal. He was satisfied with nothing : every- 
 thing displeased him : trifles, at which before he would have smiled, 
 now inspired him with rage ; in his sleep he would constantly start 
 and talk wildly, and when awake, he would fitfully pace the room, 
 with pursed lips and overhanging brows. 
 
 This change poor Amelia perceived with alarm. To her gentle 
 spirit it was a source of deep affliction: it filled her heart with 
 sorrow, and her eyes with scalding tears. She wept bitterly, but in 
 secret ; before him she assumed' a soft gaiety, and laboured to cheer 
 him ; and when she perceived upon his brow a more than usually 
 dark cloud, she in silence caressed him the more. 
 
 Days of misery passed ; and whenever he returned, she would 
 watch his clouded countenance anxiously, in the fond hope of finding 
 his spirit soothed, but in vain ; still, fearing it might vex him, she 
 never breathed a syllable having reference to his depression, until 
 finding her caresses repulsed as an annoyance, she became appre- 
 hensive that she herself might be, although unconsciously, the 
 cause. 
 
 At first the bare thought of this being possible, dreadfully distressed 
 her ; but on reflection, being unable to recollect any single act of 
 hers at all likely to have excited his displeasure, she began to hope 
 that something she had either said or done, had been by him miscon- 
 strued, feeling convinced that if that were all, she should be able, by 
 removing the misconception, to restore his tranquillity. 
 
 Having dwelt upon this for some time, to the exclusion of all other 
 considerations, she resolved on alluding to the subject, and blamed 
 herself for having permitted a mere misapprehension for that she 
 felt sure it was then to continue in existence so long. 
 
 "When this resolution was formed, Stanley was absent from home ; 
 he had left to meet his partners by appointment, with the view of 
 putting down the fourth and last five hundred each ; and as he had 
 then made up his mind that the whole was irrevocably lost, he 
 returned more sullen and peevish than ever. 
 
 As he entered, Amelia flew, as usual, to meet him, and when he 
 had passively received her fond welcome, he sunk into a chair in the 
 most listless style, and with a countenance enveloped in gloom. 
 
 " I have something, dear, to say to you," she observed, with a 
 gaiety of expression which contrasted strongly with his dismal aspect, 
 " something, my love, of importance. It is a question, and one 
 which must be answered distinctly, too." 
 
 " A question ? u cried Stanley peevishly. " Well, what is it ?" 
 
 " Nay, do not be cross, dear Stanley. And yet, perhaps, I must 
 allow you to be so until you have answered my question, and I have 
 replied." She then threw her arms round his neck, and while gazing 
 earnestly in his face, said, in tones of surpassing sweetness, " Hao e 
 I displeased you ?" 
 
 " Displeased me ? Nonsense ; no." 
 
252 STA.KLEY THOBtf. 
 
 " Pray, Stanley, tell me. I fear that I have." 
 
 " I do tell you that you have not. Don't annoy me." 
 
 " Dear Stanley, do not be unkind ! You have been for some time 
 very sad, dear ; my heart bleeds to see you. I cannot be happy it' 
 you are not so. Indeed, my dearest love, if I have in anyway offended 
 you" 
 
 " I tell you again that yon have not !" 
 
 " Then what is the cause of your sadness ? Pray let me know all ? 
 I can bear it, my love ? let it be what it may, I can bear it. Believe 
 me, I can endure with more fortitude the knowledge of the very 
 worst calamity that could befall us, than ignorance of the cause of 
 that affliction, which is unhappily so apparent. Do, dear, pray tell 
 me all. Do not keep me longer in suspense. You kindly, fondly 
 let me share your joys, am I not bound to share your sorrows ? 
 Believe me, dear Stanley, it will to me be an additional joy to know 
 that your confidence in me is unbounded." 
 
 As a rebellious tear glistened in his eye, Stanley kissed her, and 
 pressed her to his heart. 
 
 " Bless you !" she continued, as she wiped the tear away. " But 
 I must not see that : anything but that I can bear. But you will 
 tell me, dear, will you not ?" 
 
 " My good girl, what have I to tell you ?" 
 
 " Do not allow me to be- tortured by conjectures. They afflict me, 
 Stanley, far more than a knowledge of the real cause can, let it be 
 what it may." 
 
 " Amelia, rest satisfied with this, that that which vexes me is not 
 of any permanent importance." 
 
 " T thank Heaven for that ! And yet if it be not, why do you allow 
 it to torment you thus ? Gome, be cheerful, dear Stanley ; it will be 
 such a delight to me to see you smile again ! But I cannot be content 
 with this assurance. If I had," she continued archly, " sufficient 
 influence over you, I would insist upon knowing more : but as I have 
 not, I must, of course, in the tone of a suppliant, beg of you to tell 
 me all about it. Come, dear, as a favour ? I may be able to assist 
 you. Besides, have I not a right to know ? Upon my word, I am 
 anything but sure that I have not. It strikes me that there should 
 be no secrets between us. I may be wrong ; but I incline, never- 
 theless, to the belief that a wife absolutely ought to know all that 
 pertains to her husband." 
 
 " But even assuming that she ought, would it be wise, would it be 
 kind on the part of a man to suffer his wife to be annoyed by the 
 knowledge of every difficulty he has to encounter ?" 
 
 " He frequently, I apprehend, annoys her far more by withholding 
 that knowledge. When we see you depressed, and that we can see, 
 my love, in an instant, however much you may endeavour to conceal 
 it, the conjectures which arise, in most cases, create far more pain 
 than would be induced by an actual knowledge of the facts. When 
 you good creatures keep us thus in darkness, that we may not be 
 afflicted by the troubles you endure, you little think that the kind, 
 generous object you have in view is not thereby attained. We are 
 troubled by seeing that you are troubled ; the very fact of your 
 
STANLEY THOttS, 253 
 
 spirits being depressed, depresses ours ; and although we endeavour 
 to cheer you when dull, the gaiety we assume is but assumed, dear 
 Stanley, and the assumption of itself costs many a latent pang: But 
 come, let me prevail upon you. What is the matter ? It is true my 
 reputation for ingenuity is not yet established, but a thousand things 
 might be suggested even by me. Stanley, is there anything papa can 
 do for you ? If there be, let me know, there's a dear ! Nothing could 
 delight him more than to have it in his power to render you assist- 
 ance. It would give him, believe me, the purest joy a man can 
 experience. Tell me, dear do pray tell me if he can in any way aid 
 you. You know not how he would rejoice in the opportunity ; indeed 
 you do not; but be sure that he would serve you with ail his soul. 
 Let me name it to him, dear. What is it ? Do tell me." 
 
 "Amelia," said Stanley, regarding her intently, "let us change the 
 
 g .ubject. Let it be sufficient for you so know, that I have felt, per- 
 
 i aps, far more annoyed than I ought to have felt. The affair will 
 
 ' n be over, and you will find me as cheerful as ever ; but if you do 
 
 ish to annoy me, and I cannot think you do, vou will not in any 
 
 Tl OTJ TV iiT+i**l 
 
 wav a llude to li} a am ' 
 
 - a ' s kP s were ^ lus sea ^ 3 ^ an< ^ *ke subject therefore dropped. 
 
 CHAP TEE XL I. 
 
 THE COUXIESS OIT CLAIIEXDALE'S SOIREE MLTSICALE, 
 
 HAVING explained to Captain Pilcher precisely what she wanted, 
 Mrs. Gills bad the heartfelt felicity to find that he was prepared to 
 meet her views to a hair. He was, in fact, as Stanley had intimated, 
 the very man to carry her conception fully out. He was in raptures 
 with it. Nothing could have delighted him more ; and so heartily 
 did he enter into the spirit of the thing, and so promptly did he settle 
 the preliminaries, feeling well convinced that before many days had 
 expired the club would be completely broken up, and the glorious 
 opportunity thereby lost, that he got cards engraved expressly for the 
 occasion with the Earl's arms thereon emblazoned, and all his plans 
 laid down to absolute perfection, in a space of time almost incredible 
 in point of shortness. 
 
 It became, however, essential to the due execution of these plans 
 that the Earl should be temporarily absent ; and it happened most 
 conveniently that, having put down bis share of the bank, which was 
 doomed to be the last, and just as the Captain had arranged to get 
 him down to Newmarket, he announced his intention of going 
 to Brighton for a day or two, ostensibly in order to pay a long- 
 promised visit. 
 
 Eor Brighton he therefore started, and no sooner had he left than 
 the gallant Captain issued the cards. He sent them to all the Minis- 
 
254 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 ters, to all the peers and peeresses in town, to all the ambassadors, to 
 all the members of the House of Commons without distinction, to 
 all the Judges and chief members of the Bar and their ladies, to the 
 principal literary men of the day, to the Lord Mayor, and the whole 
 Court of Aldermen ; in short, he proceeded in such an exemplary spirit 
 that no person of distinction in town could complain of being slighted. 
 
 It was to be a soiree tnusicale ; and as such was the case, he patro- 
 nised the two most fashionable bands, and engaged not only the chief 
 Italian singers, but all the native talent available. His views in that, 
 as indeed in all other respects, were extremely comprehensive ; in a 
 word, he was firmly determined to do the whole thing on a scale of 
 magnificence not to be surpassed. 
 
 " Now, my dear madam," said he, having settled this necessary 
 part of the business to the entire satisfaction of Mrs. Gills, " pray 
 what do you intend to give them ?" 
 
 " Oh ! they shall have such a capital hot supper," replied the lady, 
 "and just as much wine, rum, brandy, and gin as they like to 
 lay into. There shall be no stint of nothing. And then we'll have 
 some punch ; the punch alley Roman, I hear, is the nicest ; they 
 shall have some of that. And'l'll tell you what jints I mean to have. 
 First, for instance, there shall be a tremendious boiled round of beef 
 at the top, and another sirline at the bottom ; a large plum-pudding 
 in the middle, two saddles of mutton near that, a line of pork, a 
 fillet of veal, and ham, a turkey and sassages, lots of mince pies, a 
 goose and apple sarce, carrots, turnips, taters, sparrowgrass, and 
 every other delicacy in season ; and if they can't manage to make a 
 decent supper of that, why, it will be a strange thing to me." 
 
 " It will be strange," observed the Captain. " I should say that 
 they have not had such a supper lately." 
 
 " Is there anything else besides that you think we ought to have ! 
 Because if there is, you know, Captain, we'll have it." 
 
 " No ; I am really unable to suggest anything else. Tour arrange- 
 ments appear to be excellent. You must have enough porter." 
 
 " Oh ! they shall have lots of that. But what time do you think 
 they'll be here ?" 
 
 " "Why, I should say that they'll begin to arrive about nine." 
 
 "That will do nicely. Oh! won't the Earl be surprised! But 
 you'll excuse me, I know, for I've got a world of business in 
 hand ; but if you should think of anything more in the mean time, 
 please tell me." 
 
 The Captain promised faithfully to do so, and Mrs. Gills went 
 about her business. 
 
 In less than an hour after that, however, certain of the noble 
 Earl's family called, and on being informed that he was then out of 
 town, the Marchioness, being resolved to have the matter explained, 
 sent the card at once up to the Countess. 
 
 On receiving this card, the Countess almost fainted. " Oh ma!" 
 she cried tremulously, " I never can go down; I should drop." 
 
 " Hub bish, my precious !" exclaimed her mamma. " "Why, what 
 have you to fear ? She won't eat you. Besides, you're every 'bit as 
 good as her." 
 
STANLEY THOEK. 255 
 
 " Oh ! I saw her get out of lier carriage. The very look of her 
 was enough. She's such a lady ! oh !" 
 
 " Well, my love, and ain't you a lady ? And can't you get out of 
 your carridge ? I'll go down myself and see her." 
 
 " Do, ma, pray do." 
 
 " Oh ! if she thinks to come any of her stuck-up fine ways over 
 me, she'll find I can give her as good as she sends. I ain't to be 
 frightened don't think it." 
 
 Whereupon she adjusted her comprehensive cap, which was richly 
 embellished with roses and lilies, and having completely satisfied 
 herself that she could look fiercely if occasion should demand a look 
 of fierceness, she tossed her head proudly, and descended. 
 
 " The Countess of Clarendale," observed the Marchioness, who was 
 certainly a most majestic woman, " is the lady whom I am anxious 
 to see." 
 
 " The Countess," returned Mrs. Grills, who tried very laudably to 
 look as tall as possible, " the Countess is rather poorly ; but I am 
 her mother !" 
 
 This announcement had the effect of almost stunning the Mar- 
 chioness, who drew back a trifle, and looked at Mrs. Gills with the 
 most intense earnestness, while two of her sons, by whom she was 
 accompanied, seemed ready to burst into a roar, they enjoyed the 
 thing so highly. 
 
 " It is really very strange," said the Marchioness, on recovering 
 herself somewhat, " that I should not have even heard of my son's 
 marriage until this morning." 
 
 " Well, it is odd he didn't let you know." 
 
 " At what church were they married ?" 
 
 " Oh ! it was done here by special licence !" 
 
 " Indeed ! Can I not have the pleasure of seeing the Countess ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I'll go and fetch her ; but she's such a timid thing, 
 you don't know." 
 
 " Well, this is a start!" exclaimed one of the sons, as Mrs. Gills 
 quitted the room. 
 
 " He's not married !" cried the other. " He's not such a fool." 
 
 " I only hope to Heaven that he is not !" exclaimed the 
 Marchioness. " But you hear what she says !" 
 
 " Oh, I don't care what she says. Depend upon it they are not 
 married. But I long to see what sort of creature she is. If she be 
 anything like her mamma, she's a beauty !" 
 
 While they were thus engaged Mrs. Gills was endeavouring to 
 prevail upon her precious to " come down, and make no bones at all 
 about the matter!" but the Countess was still extremely tremulous. 
 
 " Oh ! ma," she cried, " I'm fit to faint." 
 
 " The ideor !" exclaimed Mrs. Gills. " As if you expected she'd 
 gobble you up. I never see such a thing. Pluck up your sperits, and 
 bemean yourself like a Countess, as you are." 
 
 " Oh ! but I feel so frightened, ma." 
 
 "What are you to be frightened on? I'm shocked at you. 
 Why ain't I frightened ? A mere common paltry servant would have 
 
256 STANLEY THOlitf. 
 
 more eperit. You don't look as if you belonged to the nobility 
 at all." 
 
 11 But I can't help it, ma." 
 
 " Exorbitant ! don't tell me ? You should have a little more 
 aristocracy about you ! Come, come, my precious ; come, take them 
 there knots out of your hankercher, and come down without any more 
 affected ways." 
 
 " I can't, ma : no. indeed, I can't." 
 
 " You provoke me ! I shall never make anything on you. What is 
 she any more than you are ? She's only a lady of title like yourself! 
 I never heered tell of such a thing ! I'm ashamed of you, reely." 
 
 And having delivered herself to this effect, she again, \\ith due 
 boldness, descended alone. 
 
 "My daughter, the Countess, says as you must excuse her," she 
 observed as she hastily re-entered the room. " She don't feel at all 
 the thing this morning. At any other time you like to come, she'd 
 be happy." 
 
 Well! The Marchioness could do no more. She could not insist 
 upon seeing her, certainly, although she much wished to arrive 
 at the truth, and therefore feeling it to be useless to press the point 
 then, she rose, and without any unnecessary ceremony, left the house, 
 intimating that she was not by any means satisfied, and that she felt 
 herself bound to see into the matter further. 
 
 As the som?ehad been fixed to come off" on the morrow, the Captain 
 wrote to the Earl by that night's post, to inform him that his presence 
 in town at a certain hour was indispensable ; and as he made it appear 
 that his special command had been prompted by something connected 
 with, the speculation, that noble person duly arrived, and found his 
 partners pretending in order there might appear to be a sufficient 
 excuse for the summons to be deeply engaged in a discussion having 
 reference to the propriety of continuing the scheme. 
 
 Into this debate the noble Earl entered with spirit, with the view 
 of proving the advantages which would as a matter of necessity spring 
 from the very fact of putting down ten thousand pounds more ; and 
 as it was then but eight o'clock, the discussion was kept up with 
 warmth until niae, at which hour the company began to arrive. 
 
 The professional people came first, and were received by the 
 Countess and her mamma with unexampled condescension ; but as 
 the rattling of carriages continued, the Earl suddenly inquired if 
 they knew what it meant ? 
 
 " Oh ! yes," replied the Captain. " The Countess gives a soiree 
 musicale /" 
 
 " A soiree devil .'" exclaimed the noble Earl ; and starting up in a 
 rage, he rushed from the room amidst loud peals of laughter. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " he demanded on reaching the 
 brilliantly illumined salon, in which the Countess and Mrs. GilLs 
 dressed in all conceivable colours, and further embellished, in order 
 to look sweetly, with a greater variety of artificial flowers than ever 
 adorned the active person of a sweep on Mayday were entertaining 
 the professional people with characteristic dignity and grace, " what, 
 I ask, is the meaning of it all ?" 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 257 
 
 " My noble lord," replied the Countess. " We are only going to 
 Lave a little party !" 
 
 " A little party ! Are you mad ?'* 
 
 " But it's the Countess's own parly !" interposed Mrs. Gills. 
 
 " I'll have no parties !" thundered 'forth the Earl. " "Why did you 
 not let me know of it, madam ?" 
 
 " We thought it would be an agreeable surprise !" 
 
 " Tom !" cried the Earl, calling loudly to the porter. " Do you 
 hear? Lock that door ! Open it to no one. Not another soul shall 
 enter to night. "What persons are these ?" he added, turning to the 
 Countess with a look which made her tremble. 
 
 " They are the singers, my lord." 
 
 " Dismiss them ! I'll not have them here : they are not wanted." 
 
 Whereupon he returned to his associates, who were all extremely 
 merry, and demanded of them why they had not informed him of the 
 issue of the cards for this soiree musicale ? 
 
 " We thought it by far too good a joke," was the reply. 
 
 " A joke !" exclaimed the Earl. " It may^ be a joke to you, gentle- 
 men ; but look at the position in which it places me ! Tom," he 
 adeed, calling again to the porter as the knocking at the door became 
 tremendous. " Never mind their knocking ! If you let another 
 creature in, I'll strangle you. Are those people gone ?" 
 
 " No, my lord." 
 
 " Turn them out ! Why do they remain ?" 
 
 The reason soon appeared. They had resolved not to leave the 
 house without being paid ; and no sooner was the Earl informed of 
 this than he rushed fiercely up to them again, with a forcible eject- 
 ment in view. 
 
 " I'll hear nothing of your demands," said he, " to-night. I insist 
 upon your leaving instantly. If you remain another moment you 
 will draw upon yourselves consequences which may not be pleasing." 
 
 Several of the professional gentlemen here endeavoured to reason 
 with him on the subject, but he would not hear a word, and exhibited 
 such excessive violence that they eventually deemed it expedient to 
 depart. 
 
 He saw them out while Tom kept on guard, and then closed tin 
 door upon them himself. But the knocking still continued, for the 
 street was full of carriages, and the whole neighbourhood seemed to 
 be in a state of commotion. 
 
 " Wrench off that knocker," he crier', " and then write upon the 
 door." 
 
 "What/ my lord?" 
 
 " Gone to the devil ! to let ! anything ! run away ! no matter 
 what!" 
 
 Tom mixed up some whitening with great expedition, and while 
 the enraged Earl himself kept guard, he wrenched off the knocker, 
 and marked upen the door in legible characters, "To LET. Groxa 
 
 AWAY !" 
 
 " Tom," said the Earl, " let them thunder if they can. Snap that 
 bell-wire ! snap it at once ! I charge you, Tom, not to let another 
 33 
 
258 STANLEY TIIOEN. 
 
 soul in to-niglit." And having given this charge with violent em- 
 phasis, he quitted the house, leaving the Countess and her mamma 
 sobbing over each other like children, while the Captain and bis band 
 were enjoying themselves highly, and making a soiree tnusicale of. it, 
 occasionally looking out upon the lon^ line of carriages which con- 
 tinued to arrive and to depart with their load.3 until past one o'clock 
 in the morning. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF CLABENDADE RECEIVES ANOTHER LESSON. 
 
 THE Earl did not return to the Countess that nighfc : but on the 
 following day about noon he went to the door of the " European," at 
 which he thundered as well as he could, the knocker being off, and 
 the bell-wire broken until he became so enraged, that he sent his 
 stick clean through the drawing-room window. 
 
 The Countess and her mamma were in the drawing-room at the 
 time, and were dreadfully alarmed by the crash ; but they knew the 
 Earl's stick in an instant ; and while Mrs. Gills rushed in a fright to 
 the window, the Countess mechanically flew to the door. 
 
 " You have kept me here long enough, I hope," said the Earl, 
 glancing fiercely at the Countess, as he passed her. " Are you deaf?" 
 
 The Countess, being too much alarmed then to speak, tremblingly 
 followed her noble lord in silence. 
 
 " Well," said he, on entering the drawing-room, and throwing 
 himself carelessly upon a couch, " a pretty mess you have got me 
 into ! don't you think you have ?" 
 
 "I'm sorry we've offended you, my lord," replied the Countess. 
 
 " For my part," observed her mamma, who bad by this time 
 recovered all her faculties, " I don't see much to be sorry about ! 
 Other Countesses has jollifications, and why shouldn't you ?'" 
 
 "Jollifications!" echoed the noble Earl, sarcastically. "I'll have 
 no jollifications. Look at the position in which you have placed me 
 by making fools of all those people." 
 
 " AVell, you know, my lord, you know that was all your own fault, 
 and nobody else's ! Why disapp'int the company ? Why 'didn't you 
 L t 'em come in ? I am sure there was everything nice pervided." Ifc 
 warn't as though we'd only a leg of mutton and trimming?." 
 
 " Don't talk to me about legs of mutton and trimmings ! Leave the 
 room both of you. I want to be here alone." 
 
 " Please don't be angry, my lord," said the Countess. " Indeed, 
 we'll not do so again." 
 
 " No, I don't expect you will. I'll take care you do not." 
 
 " Upon my word and honour, my lord, I didn't know that we were 
 doing any harm. " 
 
STANLEY THORN. 259 
 
 " Did I not tell you that I wished to be alone ? Don't stand there 
 chattering be off!" 
 
 The Countess as she left the room wept ; but her mamma, whose 
 bosom swelled with indignation, looked at him, as she followed, with 
 an expression of contempt the most supreme, and, in order to convey 
 to him an additional idea of what she felt, she slammed the door 
 after her as if she meant to split it. 
 
 " He's a brute ! an exorbitant monster !" she exclaimed, on enter- 
 ing the chamber to which the Countess had retired. " But it serve i 
 you justly right for not having more sperit. I don't know who you 
 take after, that's the real truth. You don't take after me! Do you 
 'magine if he was a husband of mine I'd put up with it ? No : I'd sea 
 him blessed first ! I wouldn't take it from the best man that ever 
 stepped in shoe-leather. I told you how it would be. I told you from 
 the first how he'd serve you, it* you didn't stand up for your rights. 
 I've no patience with you, I haven't. You provoke me to such a 
 degree, I don't know how to contain myself." 
 
 " "What am I to do, ma ? what can I do ?" 
 
 " What can you do ? Why, up and tell him at once what you 
 mean. Fly into a passion. The ideor! I only just wish he was a 
 husband of mine, I'd let him know what's what, I'll warrant. Do 
 you think that I'd fret, and stew, and go on so ? No ! nor you don'fc 
 ought to do it." 
 
 " But how caul help it, ma?" 
 
 " How can you help it ? Don't tell me ! Presume a proper dignity 
 and sperit. He'll tread upon you as if you was dirt, as they all will, 
 if you let 'em ; but you don't ought to suffer him to do it. And then 
 the ideor ! did you ever in all your born days hear tell of such a 
 thing as a husband being out the whole blessed night, without even so 
 much as mentioning on it ! A pre&y thing, indeed 1 as if you had 
 no right to know where he had been ! as if you didn't ought to insist 
 upon knowing where he'd been ! Do you think I'd let him have a 
 minute's peace till he told me ? How do you know where he was ? 
 And not a word of exclamation ! the ideor ! But I see how r it is : 
 he don't think we're good enough for him ; but I'd have him to know 
 that you're as good as him any hour in the day, if he comes to that. 
 Aint you a Countess ? and aint you consequentially bound to act as 
 Countesses does ? "What does he mean ? A very pretty thing ! 
 There ! if I was you, I'll tell you what I'd go and do at once. I'd 
 go to him, and I'd say, ' Now I tell you what it is, I'm not going to 
 stand it, and so you needn't think ifc, and that's all about it. I'm 
 'solved to stand up for my dignity as a Countess ; and if I can't live 
 peaceable with yon, I'll have a separate maintainance, and do what I 
 like.' That's the way to bring him to his senses, iny precious ! 
 "Whenever a woman talks about a separate maintenance, a man thinks 
 she's in earnest, and draws in his horns. It's the only way, to up 
 and tell 'em what you mean at once. Now, you take my advice; 
 you go do\vn and look fierce, and tell him bold yo'u won't have it." 
 
 " What, now, ma?" 
 
 " Ye?, now. Make hay while the sun shiiiea strike \vhile the 
 iron is hot." 
 
2GO STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 " I'm a good mind, bufc- 
 
 " Do it ! Men is cowards when a woman's blood's up. If you 
 cringe to 'em, they trample upon you ; but if you presume a proper 
 dignity, they'll come down to you. Therefore do it, and make no 
 bones about the matter." 
 
 "Butrmafeared,ina." 
 
 " Afeared ! Don't tell me about being aferu ed. "What have you to 
 be afearedon ? Give it him at once. Make believe to be in a tremen- 
 dous passion. Speak loud, my precious : there's nothing like that : 
 they're sure to get over them as dosen't speak loud." 
 
 " But what am I to say, ma ?" whined the Countess. 
 
 " What are you to say!" echoed her anxious mamma, in despair. 
 " Why ain't I told you what to say ? Give it to him well. Tell him 
 you won't have it at no price, and so he needn't think it. As true 
 as I'm alive, there ain't a bit of the Countess in you." 
 
 " Well, ma, I can't help it." 
 
 " Can't help it ! Rubbish ! I've no patience with such ways. 
 Don't tell me you can't help it ! it's enough to make one sick to see 
 so much affectation. Go to him at once, and tell him flat that you're 
 'solved to stick up for your rights." 
 
 ' Well, ma, I will go," said the Countess. " I'm determined I 
 will. I'll tell him it's unbearable, I will ; and he needn't think I'm 
 going to put up with it." 
 
 " Do my precious. Be a woman of sperit. It's the only way in 
 the world to get over the men. And don't forget the separate 
 maintenance." 
 
 " I won'fr, ma. I'll tell him plump ; see if I don't." 
 
 " That's right, my darling, give it him home ! And don't forget to 
 give him an 'int about stopping out all the blessed night, neither. 
 Hit him hard upon that p'int ; and if you don't frighten him out of 
 his wits, it'll be very strange to me. Therefore don't forget that." 
 
 " I won't, ma. I'll tell him he treats me very cruel, and that I 
 don't care a single bit about him." 
 
 " And veiy proper neither. I shall make a woman of dignity of 
 you yet." 
 
 Thus encouraged, the Countess boldly descended ; but on entering 
 the drawing-room in which the Earl sat, she was seized with so violent 
 a palpitation of the heart, that she was perfectly unable to give utter- 
 ance to a word. 
 
 " Well!" said the Earl, frowning ferociously afcher, " what do you 
 want here ?" 
 
 The Countess tried to say that she felt that she was treated very 
 cruelly ; but as she couldn't, she burst into tears and left the room. 
 
 " Why, what's the ma', ten now ?" cried her mamma, on her return. 
 " Has the monster been at it again ? What does he say for himself?" 
 
 " He asked me what I wanted there," replied the Countess, 
 sobbing bitterly " what I wanted there !" 
 
 " Well, I never ! And didn't you up and tell him ?" 
 
 "I couldn't speak: he looked as if he'd cat me !" 
 
 " And what if he did ? Why didn't you look as if you'd eat him, 
 and then go ding dong at it with dignity ? But I'll soon settle this 
 
STANLEY THOFvX. 261 
 
 I'll soon let him know a piece of -my mind, I'll warrant. He don't 
 quite so easily get over mo !" 
 
 " Oh ! pray, ma, don't go : he lo:>ks, oh ! so fierce !" 
 
 " Fierce ! the ideor ! Do you think I'm afeared of a man ? 
 The ridiculousness of it pervokes me !" 
 
 Whereupon she "bounced out of the chamber, and the next moment 
 stood before the Earl. 
 
 " Now, I tell you what it i* now, plump, my lord," she observed 
 with a dignified air; " it* this here's the way you're a-going to treat 
 the Countess, my daughter, it won't do, rny lord, I can tell you : we 
 ain't a-going to stand it !" 
 
 " Am I to be under the necessity of turning you out of the houae, 
 Mrs. Grills?" said the E-.irl, with perfect calmness* 
 
 " Tarn me out of the house ? Well, I'm sure !" 
 
 " You will compel me to do so, if you. do not conduct yourself with 
 greater propriety." 
 
 " I'd have you to know that I'm not to be 'timidated, my lord. 
 Where the Countess, my daughter is, there will I be." 
 
 "You had beater be silent. I believe that I contracted no mar- 
 riage with you." 
 
 " No ; I only just wish that you had !" 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" exclaimed the Ear]. 
 
 " You'd have had a very different person to deal with, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 " I know it. I do not require to be told." 
 
 " I wouldn't have put up with one-twentieth part of the treatment 
 that she has put up with, poor thing." 
 
 " It is of no importance to me, Mrs. (rills, what proportion you 
 would have put up with." 
 
 " Bat is it proper treatment ? Let me ask you that ?" 
 
 " Will you do me the favour to leave the room, Mrs. Grills?" 
 
 " If she ain't treated better, she shall sue for a separate maintain- 
 ance." 
 
 " Leave the room, madam !" cried the Earl, starting np, and point- 
 ing fiercely to the door. "Jf I hear another word, I'll have you 
 instantly turned out of the house." 
 
 At this particular moment, it struck Mrs. Grills with great force, 
 that, as she was not the absolute mistress of the house, he had the 
 power to carry his threat into execution ; and as she felt it to be, 
 therefore, inexpedient to provoke the tyrannical exercise of that power, 
 she most reluctantly held her peace, and left the room, as she subse- 
 quently expressed it, " fit to burst." 
 
 "Well, ma," cried the Countess, who was naturally anxious to 
 know the result, " how did you get on ? What on earth did he say ? ' 
 
 " He's a brute ! I am putrified, my precious ! I never in all my 
 days heard of such a monster. Would you believe it ? why, he 
 threatened to turn me out of the house, he did ! actually neck and 
 crop out of the house !" 
 
 " Lor, ma ! you don't say so !" 
 
 " It's a fact ! But I'd have him to know that I'm a.3 good a3 him, 
 
262 STANLEY THOKtf. 
 
 if he comes to that, and ain't-a-going to tolerate such ways with 
 impunity." 
 
 " But how did it come about, ma ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you but I feel so wild, I scarce know how to contain 
 myself. Turn me out of the house, indeed ! a very fine ideor ! ' In 
 the first place,' says I, ' my lord, this is all about it : the Countess, 
 my daughter,' says I, ' ain't-a-going to stand any more of your non- 
 sense, and so,' says I, ' you needn't try it on." 
 
 " Lor, ma ! reely you shouldn't have said that." 
 
 " Oh ! there's nothing like giving 'em as good as they send. I ain't 
 lived all these years without knowing what I'm about. Howsever, 
 says he, * "What do you mean ?' says he. * What do I mean ?' say* 
 I, ' I'll tell you what I ineaa : I mean what I say,' says I, ' neither 
 better nor worse.' ' Am I to kick you head first out of the house ?' 
 says he. ' Kick me out of the house !' says I, * How many on you ? 
 I should only like to see you,' says I, ' a-kicking me out of the house. 
 I'd cure you of kicking for the rest of your days,' says I. 
 
 " Lor ! you didn't ought to Lave gone on so." 
 
 " Oh ! don't tell me. It showed him, at any rate, I wasn't afeared. 
 ' Kick me out,' says I, ' will you ? You're a nice man, I don't think. 
 to talk about kicking.' ' I'll do it,' says he, ' if you don't hold your 
 noise.' * You will,' says I, ' will you ? Do it at your perel !' 
 ' I did'nt marry you,' says he. ' No,' says I; * I only just wish,' 
 gays I, ' for your sake, you had. I'll warrant,' says I, ' I'd let you 
 a-knowed the difference !' So with that we went right at it, hammer 
 and tongs. But I soon cowed him down I soon gave him to know 
 that I warn't to be frightened." 
 
 " Oh dear ! I'm very sorry you said anything to him." 
 
 " Oh ! rubbish about being sorry. There's nothing like telling 
 'em plump what you mean. Is he to treat you in in this here scan- 
 dalous way without having a syllable said to him ? His lawful wife 
 too, and a Countess! You ought to go in. J don't ought to do it. 
 You ought to up and tell him right flat yon won't have it, and let him 
 talk about turning yon out, if he dare. A pretty thing, indeed ! 
 Why, what did you marry him for ?" 
 
 " I wish I never married him at all, ma, that I do. I'm very 
 unhappy." 
 
 " And likely to remain unhappy, too, unless you show a proper 
 sperit. Do you think, if I was a Countess, I wouldn't act different ? 
 I'd give him to know I'd do just what I liked, and give just what 
 jollifications I liked. Does he imagine that you're to be moped up 
 here without displaying no dignity ? Does he suppose that you're to 
 have no company, no parties, no frolics ? Why, had you married a 
 common tradesman, you'd been better off. Stick up for your right?, 
 my precious, and don't be imposed upon by nobody. That's the 
 only way. It's out of all character that yon should be muddled up 
 here, and have no sort of pleasure, no sort of society, nor nothing of 
 that. It's enough to drive any woman stark staring mad ! What's 
 the good of having a title, if you don't keep up your dignity ? That's 
 my sentiments. It astonishes my intellects to see you submit to be 
 treated like the common scum of the earth. It's incredulous to me 
 
STANLEY THORN. 263 
 
 that you should suffer yourself to be put upon like that. Why, if I 
 was you, I'd turn the bouse out of the windows. I'd see who was 
 misses, I'll warrant. And depend upon it, that's the only way. 
 You haven't halt' enough of sperit, you don't ought to let him keep 
 you thus under his thumb. If you do it now, what'll he be by and 
 by ? That's the point : that's what you ought to consider. I never 
 in all my days heared of such a thing as a Countess being treated 
 like you. Where's your pride ? You don't seem to have got a mite 
 in you. I don't understand it. It gets over me altogether. I've 
 no patience with you : I haven't, as true as I'm alive !" 
 
 While the Countess was being thus lectured by her mamma, who 
 was earnestly anxious to inspire her soul with due dignity, the Earl 
 and Captain Eilcher of whose arrival the ladies knew nothing were 
 dividing the profits of their late speculation, and arranging the pre- 
 liminaries of a certain transfer, the character of which will be duly 
 explained anon. 
 
 CHAPTEB XLIII. 
 
 STANLEY'S PECTJNIABY EMBAEASSMENTS COMMENCE. 
 
 THE two thousand pounds for which Stanley had mortgaged his 
 estate being lost, his actual income was reduced to something less than 
 two hundred a-year ; and as he continued to live at the rate of a 
 thousand, he soon of course found himself embarrassed. 
 
 Still the tradesmen whom he patronised did not for some time 
 annoy him : they believed him to be rich, and were therefore with 
 infinite pleasure prepared to give him credit to any amount, notwith- 
 standing their regular bills were unpaid. 
 
 This did not, however, last long. In less than two months they 
 began to be importunate. One had a very heavy bill to take up on a 
 certain day ; another happened at the time to be dreadfully pressed ; 
 a third remembered by a miracle that his commodities bore only a 
 ready-money profit ; a fourth became suddenly so circumstanced, that 
 he every day expected a man to be put in possession ; while a fifth 
 had decidedly a couple of executions in his house at that particular 
 crisis ; and thus they went on, inventing fresh falsehoods daily, and 
 making it appear that they were then in such terrible trouble, that 
 their commercial salvation depended upon Stanley, inasmuch as that, 
 unless these identical " little bills" were immediately settled, the 
 Gazette would be the inevitable portion of them all. 
 
 To Stanley these annoyances were galling in the extreme. He 
 felt deeply humiliated. His inability to pay sums so paltry mortified 
 him more than if the total had been twenty times doubled in one 
 amount. The thing was altogether new to him. He knew not how 
 to act. Had he been, as many thousands are, accustomed to these 
 petty perplexities, the necessity for either bearing up rgainst them, or 
 exerting himself with the view of getting rid of them at once, 
 
BTAIS'LET TIIOEF. 
 
 would have appeared to be absolute ; but as he had never been in any 
 way pressed before, his spirit seemed broken, and he became irresolute 
 and inactive. 
 
 Poor Amelia from whom the widow's embarrassments had been 
 so effectually concealed, that she knew only that the carriage had 
 been dispensed with could not understand this altered state of things 
 at all. At that period she bad hadno money from Stanley for a month ; 
 but having taken care of a small sum she possessed at the time of her 
 marriage, she had been able to pay for those articles for which imme- 
 diate payment was required, while perceiving how much the impor- 
 tunities of those tradesmen who had given them credit annoyed him, 
 she endeavoured, as much as possible, to withhold from him all 
 knowledge of the abrupt and threatening manner iu which thev make 
 their demands. When, however, the whole of her money ha'd been 
 expended, and the creditors, who had previously displayed the most 
 cringing servility, had become not only clamorous but insolent, 
 she felt it to be her duty to mention the subject to him that she 
 might know the real cause of their not being paid. 
 
 " Stanley," she observed, taking advantage of a moment in which 
 he appeared to be somewhat more tranquil than usual, " those persons 
 are beginning to get very impatient." 
 
 ""What persons?" demanded Stanley. 
 
 " Those tradesmen, dear, who have sent in their bills. They called 
 again this morning." 
 
 " Let them call. They must wait." 
 
 "But they say that they will not wait, my love!" 
 
 " But I say they must! What do they mean ? Are they afraid of 
 losing their money ?" 
 
 "Why, it would seem that they were, for the tone they have 
 assumed of late is really very harsh and insulting." 
 
 " Insulting !" echoed Stanley. " I'll kick them to the devil !" 
 
 "Do not be rash, dear Stanley. They are, perhaps, very poor. But 
 why do you not pay them at once ?" 
 
 " They shall wait now for their insolence." 
 
 " But were it not better, dear, to settle their accounts, and then to 
 show them that you are displeased with their want of confidence in 
 you by dealing with them no more ?" 
 
 "I shall do so when I find it quite convenient; but certainly not 
 until then." 
 
 " But the fact of its being at present inconvenient is a matter of 
 the slightest possible importance ! I can easily get sufficient money 
 to pay them !" 
 
 " Of whom?" 
 
 " Oh ! I can get it of mamma !" 
 
 " Have you ever," demanded Stanley, regarding her with sternness, 
 " have you ever named the subject to her ?" 
 
 " Never, Stanley ! No dear, never!" replied Amelia; " I would 
 not do so for the world, my love, without your permission." 
 
 " Very well In that quarter never let it be named." 
 
 " But what possible objection can you have, dear ? I really can see 
 none myself." 
 
STANLEY TIIOHN-. 265 
 
 " T hate an objection a very great objection ; ono wliicli is per- 
 fectly insurmountable." 
 
 " Of course, my love, you are the best judge ; but do you know, 
 my impression is, that you are far too delicate, S'anley !" 
 
 " I would not have it known that I am short down at liichinoad, 
 for tpn thousand pounds !" 
 
 "Oh! you proud creature!" exclaimed Amelia, with a smile, 
 41 And yet are you proud, Stanley ? Let me bring you to the test, 
 that we may see if that really be pride which looks so very much like, 
 it. Stanley ! she continued, with much earnestness, " the ser- 
 vants our servants ! It cannot be kept from them." 
 
 " I'll discharge the first that dares to hold the slightest commu- 
 .nication with these people." . 
 
 " It cannot be prevented, my love. They will talk : they will 
 canvass matters of this description; they will form their own con- 
 j'-cture; they will swell the blightest word into an affair of vast 
 importance. Believe me, I tremble whenever I hear a single knock at 
 the door, I do indeed, my dear, and would answer all such knocks 
 niys If, were it not for very shame." 
 
 " I wish to heaven you would not trouble yourself about such 
 things at all." 
 
 " I cannot help it : indeed I cannot help it. Did you but know 
 what I suffer, when I hear those persons in the hall asking the ser- 
 vants the most impertinent questions, and leaving messages of the 
 most insolent and menacing character, you would pity me." 
 
 " Why did you not tell me of all this before ?" 
 
 " Because I well knew, my love, that it would vex you ; and as I 
 fully expected that you would very soon be able to meet their 
 demands, I have concealed it from you, hoping that the annoyance 
 would cease without causing you any additional mortification. But, 
 be assured, dear Stanley, that I do not speak thus for myself. 
 Although it affects me deeply to hear you spoken of by those persona 
 in terms so unwarrantable and harsh, I am not anxious for the imme- 
 diate discharge of these debts merely as a matter of comfort as far as 
 I am concerned ; my chief object in bringing the subject forward, is 
 to put it to you whether it would not be in every point of view far 
 better to allow me to get say to borrow a certain sum of money of 
 mamma, than to promote the circulation of those rumours which 
 absolutely strike at the purity of your motives ?" 
 
 " Oh, let them circulate what rumours they please ! they cannot 
 injure me." 
 
 u But, Stanley dear, would it not be better to allow me to 
 do at once that which I propose, than to suffer your importance 
 to be diminished, not only in the .estimation of those tradesmen, 
 but also in the eyes of our servants ? Consider, my love. What 
 if mamma should know that you are at present somewhat pressed ? 
 Nay, if even my father were informed of the fact, of what pos- 
 sible consequence could it be ? But he need not know anything 
 about it." 
 
 " It shall not be known to either." 
 
 " Well, then," continued Amelia. " let wa suggest another course. 
 
266 STANLEY THQHtf. 
 
 But you will not be angry with me ? Promise that you will not be 
 angry if I offer another suggestion ?" 
 
 " Well, I do promise : what is it ?" 
 
 " Have you not heard, dear, of persons persons, too, moring in 
 high society, who, whenever they need temporary loans, can obtain 
 them by depositing articles of value as security tor repayment ?" 
 
 " I have," replied Stanley. 
 
 " Well, dear, then why cannot we do the same ? Those jewels of 
 mine (you know I very seldom wear them) ; I have no idea how 
 much they cost, but I should say they are worth five times the sum 
 we require to pay all these tiresome people. Why not deposit 
 them?" 
 
 " You are a good girl," said Stanley : " but there will be no neces- 
 sity for anything of the kind." 
 
 " Take them, dear Stanley !" continued Amelia. " Do let me pre- 
 vail upon you to take them ; or tell me where to go, and I will take 
 them myself. I should not be ashamed, dear ; indeed I should not 
 be ashamed!" But as she spoke, the tears trickled down her beautiful 
 glieeks ; which, however, she tried to conceal. 
 
 " Oh, that will not be required," replied Stanley. 
 
 61 But Lady Dashwell always went herself. She took hers to a 
 goldsmith in Oxford Street, I have heard. Come, dear, let me take 
 mine, and then all these annoyances will be at an end." 
 
 " Why, Amelia, I am not a beggar ! I'll go and get the money of 
 my mother at ouce. I can do so ; but the necessity for it never 
 before appeared to be su pressing." 
 
 " Then you forgive me, dear Stanley ?" 
 
 " Forgive you!" 
 
 He embraced her, and left her comparatively happy. She did not 
 expect that he would have been so calm, although it was manifest, 
 even to her, that his naturally impetuous spirit was being by some 
 process gradually subdued. 
 
 On reaching the widow's residence, Stanley found her sitting in 
 solitude at the drawing-room window, envying the owner of every 
 carriage that passed, and conceiving it to be by far the greatest luxury 
 under heaven. She had no carriage ; and the thought of this formed 
 her chief affliction. She felt that she could with fortitude have en- 
 dured the loss of anything but that ; which was certainly nothing 
 but natural, seeing that the things which we have will appear very 
 poor when compared with the things we have not. 
 
 " Mother,*' said Stanley as he took a seat beside her, " have you 
 any money at your banker's ?" 
 
 This question amazed the widow much. The tone was so exces- 
 sively novel. It had theretofore been invariably, " Mother ! I want 
 some money, and must have it ; and if you haven't got it, you must 
 get it !" Her amazement may hence be, understood. 
 
 " Why, my love/' she replied, on recovering herself somewhat, " I 
 have a little." 
 
 " I wish you would lend me some for a short time," said Stanley. 
 <c You shall have it again." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear. Hew much do vou \va:.t r" 
 
STANLEY THORN. 267 
 
 " How much can you spare ?" 
 
 " "Why, I scarcely know, my love. Will twenty or thirty pounds 
 be enough?" 
 
 " I wish you could let me have a hundred." 
 
 " A hundred pounds, my dear, 19 a large sum to me now ! f> 
 
 " I know it, mother : 1 know it. You need not remind me of 
 that. The question ia, can you let me have it? I am pestered to 
 death by a parcel of petty people, whom I am anxious to pay." 
 
 "Well well ! you shall have it. But be cautious, my Stanley, 
 for Heaven's sake be cautious, there's a dear ! I dare say, my love, 
 that you do the best you can ; and I know it to be very distressing to 
 retrench ; but the necessity for living within your income, limited aa 
 it is, dear, must not be overlooked." 
 
 " I know, mother I know all about it. Just give me a cheque." 
 
 " I have been thinking, dear, 1 continued the widow, as she very 
 slowly opened tie desk, " I have been thinking audit's strange that 
 it never struck me tin this morning that if we were to live toge- 
 ther, dear, in one house, you know, BO that we should have to support 
 but one establishment, we should be able to live in better style, 
 besides being " 
 
 " Yes yes," interposed Stanley, with impatience. " We'll talk 
 about that another time. I'll see about it. Let me have the cheque." 
 
 The cheque was accordingly drawn, and when he had taken leave 
 hastily, although with somewhat more affection than usual, he pro- 
 ceeded to the banker's without delay. 
 
 * CHAPTEK XL1V. 
 
 IN WHICH THE VENERABLE GENTLEMAN APPEARS JUST ON THE 
 
 VERGE. 
 
 As Arrelia had conjectured, the constant applications of the trades- 
 men for the settlement of their accounts formed the principal topic 
 of conversation among the servants. They felt perfectly sure that the 
 establishment was about to be broken up ; and as the gentle Joanna 
 conceived it to be her duty to relate all the particulars to her vene- 
 rable friend, the day was named for the consummation of their bliss 
 exactly three hours after Stanley had made the heart of poor Amelia 
 glad by placing the entire hundred pounds in her hand, to be appro- 
 priated to the purposes for which it was obtained. 
 
 It may also be stated as a remarkable coincidence, that Bob 
 whose spirits were governed by Amelia as absolutely as the thermo- 
 meter is governed by the air, was on that very evening unusally gay. 
 He had been to the banker's with his master ; he had seen his mis- 
 tress on his return ; he had seen her twice, and well knew, toy the 
 
268; STANLEY THORN. 
 
 joyful expression of her countenance, that a favourable change had 
 taken p'ace. 
 
 When, therefore, he entered the kitchen in which the blooming 
 Joanna and her venerable friend \vere sitting ttte-a-tete with very- 
 great affection, he exclaimed in the joy of his heart, " Now I don'fc 
 care a dump ! It's all right ! I know it is by missis ! Blest if I mind 
 standing a couple of pots of arf-and-arf!" 
 
 " Vot ! 'ave you got yer vages ?" inquired the venerable gentleman^ 
 
 " No ; but I shall get 'em safe. . But that ain't what I look at. I 
 warn't even thinking of them. I know it's all right now with master ; 
 that's all I care for. I know it by mis&is's looks. I'll bet ten to 
 one on it, brandies and waters. She can't deceive me." 
 
 " Looks is werry deceptive," observed the venerable gentleman. 
 " It's a werry old savin', and a true un, that you mu>n't take people 
 by their looks." 
 
 " Oh, but missis is one which can't be mistaken. Lt me look in 
 her face, and I know what's o'clock. I can te 1 ! in an instant. There 
 ain't a ha'p'orth of any mistake about Jier." 
 . " But ain't you got nothink else in this case to go by ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but that, and nothing else, would be plenty for me. But 
 there is something else. "We went out about four o'clock all in a 
 hurry, and drove to old missis's house. Well, master went in with 
 his tail very low I never see a man much more downer in the mouth ; 
 but he hadn't been there long before he came out, and pelted right 
 down to the ba'iker's. Well, I knew there was something ray t her 
 extra in the wind, so I watched him ; and when he came out, p'raps 
 he warn't a 1 ttle altered ! I never see such a change in a man, in my 
 life ! Well, he got in, and cut back ; and when he pulled up at the 
 door missis was on the quivy, as the French says, at the window ; and 
 the minit she see him 1 knew how it was. I could tell, I'd oath it. 
 And when I went up just now, the whole thing was as clear to me as 
 chrvstial." 
 
 " Well, I only hope your words may come true," said Joannzfc 
 
 " I'm right for a million. I'll lay any odds. It's the Monument 
 to a molehill." 
 
 " I knowed a young ooman," observed the venerable gentleman, 
 assuming tint profoundly philosophical expression which he invari- 
 ably wore when about to illustrate any particular point by analogy, 
 " I knowed a young ooman and a werry nice young ooman she 
 vos v.'ch vos in a decline. Werry well. For a matter of more 
 than three 'ear she vos a-goin' and a-goin', and a goiu' gradual ; but 
 she never fur all that believed she vos a-goin', although she vos 
 terrible thin, and looked as pale as any sheet of vite paper. S!ie 
 voodn't believe it, cos she alvays had a appetite, and vood alvays be 
 a-eatin' from morniu' till night in the most onsatisfyin' manner you 
 ever 'eared tell on. Werry well. Now, ven her fle^h vos vasted 
 nigh hall off her bones, and she looked like a skeleton kivered with 
 kid, a~d hevery soul as looked at her thought that go she must, she 
 all at vunce had the most beautifullest colour as ever vos seen upon 
 a peach ! She looked like a angel as she sit all in vite ; and as her 
 little tiny fingers vos a-playin' with her curls, she vos a siuiliii' as 
 
STANLEY THOliff. 269 
 
 sweetly as if her little sisters in heaven vos a-visperin' to her softly, 
 'Hope still hope!' And I remember," continued the venerable 
 gentleman, as he wiped away a tear, which the vivid recollection of 
 this scene had called forth, " I remember one sanguine friend vich 
 loved her, exclaiming when he seed this 'ere colour in her cheeks, 
 ' Now she's all right! vot a favourable change! Blessed be G-od, 
 she'll get orer it now!' But vot vos it? Natur' blushing to part so 
 pure a soul from a body so fair : nothing else. In an hour after that 
 exclamation vos uttered, she died. Werry well. Now this seems to 
 ine to be a case werry similar : the pockets of your master is got 
 the same complaint ; havin' overrun the constable, his means has been. 
 long in a decline ; and although he may jist now be suddenly flush, 
 and you may, in conseqvence, vishin' him veil, feel yourself justifiable 
 in oiferin' to bet any hoclds it's all right, it strikes me forcible that 
 this here flush ia on'y a sign that the whole 'stablishment's jist on 
 the p'int of goin' to pot. That's my sentiments. I hope 1 may be 
 wrong ; but that's jist vot strikes me. I shall be werry sorry, mind 
 yer, to 'ear it, cos I do think your master's a trump ; vile your 
 missis, accordin' to all accounts, is a werry good sort." 
 
 " She is a regular good 'un !" cried Bob. " A out-and-outer! I 
 never see her feller yet ; and nothing would hurt my sentiments so 
 much as to see your blessed words come true ; for I'm sure that if 
 anything rotten was to go for to occur, she'd break her heart." 
 
 " Veil, I hope I may be wrong. But I 'spose you know Joanna's 
 a -goin' to give vornin' ?" 
 
 " AVell, she may if she likes, in course ; but I won't : I'd stop 
 with 'em if it wos on'y for my vittles." 
 
 . " She is not," rejoined the venerable gentleman, " a-goin' to give 
 vornin' cos she dou't git her vages, but in conseqvence of other cir- 
 cumstantials!" 
 
 " Oh, that there's the day of the month, is it ?' cried Bob,' who saw 
 Joanna blush at the moment, and look very archly, while the vene- 
 rable gentleman chuckled, and drove his fingers into Bob's ribs, and 
 rubbed h s hands with great glee. " I see! Well, I wish you joy 
 with all my heart. In course J stand godfather to the first ?" 
 
 " Bob, Tt ! ' cried Joannna, with a most roguish look. " Lor ! how 
 can you go on so ?" 
 
 " Oh ! but 1 expect it ; and if it's a heir, I'll make him a present 
 of a hat to begin life tvith. But when is it to be ?" 
 
 " Vy, rs a mutual friend to both," replied the venerable gentleman, 
 " ve don't mind telling of you, cos ve vant you to give avay the bride 
 hif you'll do us the honner ?" 
 
 " In course ! Oh, yes ! You do me proud. "Well ?" 
 
 " "Well, then Joanna gives vornin' to-morrow ; ve shall be arkst for 
 the fust time in church next Sunday ; and as she vill leave on the 
 ninth of next month, the job's to be j bbed on the tenth." 
 
 " Bravo !" cried Bob. " Tne time's drawiu' very near. How do 
 you mean to pass the day ?" 
 
 " A r y, vedoii't think it's vuth vile to make much fuss: ve think that 
 that, un \er all circumstantials, may be dispensed vith ; but we 
 mean to enjoy ourselves, \ou know. Ye mean to be jolly. No 
 
270 STANLEY TI10RN. 
 
 expense shall be spared. Ve'il 'ave everythiuk comfortable and 
 reg'lar." 
 
 " Well, all I can say is, I hope you'll be happy." 
 
 " Safe !" replied the venerable gentleman with much ardour ; when 
 turning to hia betrothed, he added, " Can there be hany doubt 
 about it ?" 
 
 " Not the least, dear," replied Joanna, with a most winning smile. 
 " I am sure we shall be happy." 
 
 " I should think so !" cried the venerable gentleman. " Vot is 
 there to perwent it ? I don't mean to say I'm so young as I vos 
 
 f'raps twenty 'ear ago, but vot o'that ? The constitution's the p'int ! 
 f that's sound and reg'lar, vy vot's the hods !" 
 
 " But you don't look old in my eye, by no means," observed the 
 affectionate Joanna. 
 
 " Don't I ?" returned the venerable gentleman, with one of hia 
 most fascinating smiles. " You're a rogue ! I know you're a rogue, 
 and there's no mistake of any sort about you. Howsever," he 
 added, " looks isn't the p'int : the great and grand thing is, the glo- 
 rious constitution ; and, as mine's as sound as a apple, it makes no 
 hods about the hage." 
 
 Joanna agreed with him perfectly of course ; and as he shortly 
 after this took leave of his beloved, Bob accompanied him to the 
 nearest public-house, with the view of talking matters over in 
 private. 
 
 Here Stanley's affairs were again freely canvassed ; but, although 
 Bob endeavoured to make things appear as bright as possible, hia 
 venerable friend adhered still to the opinion he had expressed an 
 opinion, the perfect correctness of which was on the following morn- 
 ing, by an act of consummate viilany, proved. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE. 
 
 WHILE Amel'a was occupied in settling the accounts of tfeose trades- 
 men who had been so importunate, Stanley received two letters, of 
 which the contents were to the effect that two bills drawn by him, 
 and accepted by Filcher, each for five hundred pounds, due the pre- 
 vious day, had been dishonoured, and that unless the amounts 
 were immediately paid, proceedings would be forthwith commenced. 
 On receiving these letters, which were brought by the same post, 
 Stanley's blood became hot ; and having resolved to demand an 
 explanation of Filcher, who had promised to destroy these bills, 
 he ordered his cab to be brought to the door with all possible 
 despatch. 
 
STANLEY THORN. 271 
 
 Before, licwever, tbia could be accomplished, a banker's clerk 
 called, and on producing a pocket-book to which a chain was 
 Attached for security, presented another five hundred pound bill one 
 of Stanley's own acceptances for payment, which was certainly 
 unfortunate ; that is to say, an unfortunate time for such a bill to ba 
 presented, albeit the circumstance of bills being brought at the very 
 tjme thev are not wanted, is one which will, in all probability, excite 
 in the minds of men less and less surprise as they gradually approach 
 the perfection of civilization. 
 
 But, although ifc was in one point of view an unfortunate time for 
 this bill to be presented, in another it was fortunate, inasmuch ns 
 Amelia was from home, while the clerk was one of those extremely 
 pleasant persons who deem it correct to fright one's house from its 
 propriety by explaining the nature of such business at the door. In 
 this particular case it was stated with great minuteness to the servant 
 who, as in duty bound, delivered the message to his master as 
 correctly as he could. 
 
 "Gentleman," said he, c: called five hundred pound, sir bill, 
 sir." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Stanley. 
 
 " Gentleman, sir five hundred pound " 
 
 " Show him up." 
 
 The clerk \vlio evidently prided himself upon his picturesque 
 personal appearance, having rings on his fingers and pins in his stock, 
 while a dazzling watch-guard was laced over his waistcoat with sur- 
 passing ingenuity was accordingly introduced. 
 
 " Now, sir ; what is the meaning of this ?' cried Stanley, darting a 
 look of fury at him. " Come, sir, explain !" 
 
 This rather astonished the faculties of the clerk, for he really had 
 nothing to explain, and he said so : he had merely to present a bill for 
 payment, and that was all he either knew or cared about the matter. 
 
 " Let me tell you," said Stanley, who being unacquainted with the 
 straightforward functions of his visitor, viewed him as one of the 
 Captain's swindling confederates ; " let me tell you that this 13 a most 
 villanous transaction!' 1 
 
 " It may be," said the clerk. " I know nothing of it." 
 
 " Don'fc tell me, sir, you know nothing of it ! Where did you come 
 from? Who sent you?" 
 
 " I came in the regular course of business !" 
 
 "Who sent you? but why do I ask? You ir.ny tell Captain 
 Fibber from me but I'll tell him myself." 
 
 11 Then I'd better leave a notice ?" 
 
 " I'll have milling left ! Quit the house \ instantly, or I'll kick 
 you to the devil." 
 
 The clerk would have smiled, but as the fierce look and violent 
 action of Stanley inspired him at once with an idea that at that par- 
 ticular moment it would hardly be safe to smile, he withdrew with a 
 deep sense of the indignity he had suffered, and left the notice with 
 the servant below. 
 
 The cab was now announced, and Stanley, trembling with passion, 
 descended j but he bad no sooner got to the door than another 
 
272 STANLEY TUOR!f. 
 
 banker's clt-rk came with another bill for five hundred pounds which 
 so enraged him, that holding him as he did to be another confederate, 
 he knocked him down violently, stepped into the cab, and drove off 
 without uttering a word. 
 
 "Well!" said Bob privately as he mounted behind, "that's the 
 tidiest done thing I ever did see ! I wondt k r what's the state of the 
 blessed stocks now ? Something smokes safe ! I wouldn't have had 
 tbat there straittorrard hit as a gift : that's my candid opinion." 
 
 " Stop him ! stop him !" shouted the. clerk, on recovering in some 
 slight degree those senses of which he had been for a moment 
 deprived ; " stop him ! stop the cab, there : police ! police !" 
 
 Stanley heeded him not ; he in fact scarcely heard him : certainly 
 the impetuosity with which he drove was not aacribable to any appre- 
 hension on his part of being overtaken. But the clerk thought 
 otherwise ; his firm conviction was, that his assailant was dreadfully 
 alarmed; he therefore put on the steam, and ran with wonderful 
 velocity ; and it is really amazing how fast men will run when they 
 believe that they are feared by those whom they pursue. 
 
 " It's of no use, my leetle swell," said Bob with great caution, as 
 he turned to view the strenuous physical efforts of the clerk, " it ain't 
 a ha'porth of use ; and it's well for you it ain't ; for if you wos to come 
 up with us now, I'd take your odds that when you shaved yourself in 
 the morning you wouldn't know your own mug. I don't pertendto 
 understand the merits of the case ; but masters ain't very particular ; 
 > ou'd on'y get victimized more ; so you'd better give it up, because 
 try all you know, you wouldn't catch us in a fortnight !" 
 
 And this, after a hard run of five hundred yards, seemed to be the 
 opinion of the clerk, for having exerted himself to that extent with 
 the most exemplary spirit, he pulled up to pant, and then returned to 
 the hou^e, with his noble bosom swelling with vengeance. He'd 
 teach him the difference : He'd let him see : He'd make him pay 
 dearly : He'd serve him out sweetly when he caught him. In short, 
 he didn't exactly know what he wouldn't do, and that was a positive 
 fact. 
 
 Stanley, who had continued to drive at a slapping'pace, soon arrived 
 at the door of the European, when Bob, who considered it expedient 
 to look out with unexampled sharpness, flew to the head of the horde 
 like a fairy. 
 
 The door of the European was open, but nearly the whole of the 
 windows were closed ; and as Stanley alighted, the porter, who had 
 been packing up a box in the hull, and who was then the only person 
 in the house, bowed respectfully, but with an expression wh : ch 
 seemed to indicate that nothing was to be got out of him. And this 
 proved to be the case : he knew nothing. He believed, but couldn't 
 tell. He thought, but didn't know: It was possible that the Captain 
 was living somewhere, but he couldn't tell where: nor couM he tell 
 whether the Earl was or was not in town : he mi^ht be, or he inight 
 not; perhaps he was, but he couldn't say. 
 
 The manifestly gross equivocation of this fellow tended to confirm 
 Stanley'a fears, and having left him with the conviction that he had 
 been instructed to know Holding, he culled upon, all whom ho 
 
STANLEY TIIOliN. 273 
 
 to have been the associates of F Icher, including Sir "William and the 
 Earl ; but as from them he was unable to obtain the slightest informa- 
 tion having reference to the scoundrel's retreat, he returned home in 
 a state of mind bordering upon madness. 
 
 Amelia who, as she fondly conceived, had been removing every 
 cause of annoyance by paying the bills of her tradesmen, the whole 
 of whom had not only expressed their sorrow at having been com- 
 pelled to be so pressing, but had earnestly solicited a continuance of 
 that patronage, which they, of course, declared it would be their study 
 to deserve received him on his return with a smile of joy. Slie had 
 heard nothing of the presentation of the bills ; nor had she by a 
 miracle heard a word about the assault which during her absence 
 had been committed at the door : her happiness was therefore undis- 
 turbed until she perceived that Stanley, on receiving her embrace, 
 looked haggard and wild, when the delight she had experienced 
 instantly vanished, and her mind again teemed with the most painful 
 apprehensions. 
 
 " Dear Stanley, are you not well?" she inquired with an expression 
 of fond affection, mingled with sadness. 
 
 " I am not," replied Stanley, in tones which seemed to indicate a 
 broken spirit. " I am not. It will soon pass off." 
 
 " I am very sorry that you are not well, dear. What is the matter?" 
 
 " Nothing nothing. I shall soon recover. Leave me leave me." 
 
 " Will you not " 
 
 " Leave me!" cried Stanley, in a furious tone. " Why do you 
 delight in tormenting me thus ?" 
 
 Amelia looked at him steadfastly for an instant, and then burst 
 into tears ; which Stanley no sooner perceived than he embraced and 
 kissed her fondly. 
 
 " Forgive me," said he ; "I did not mean to speak harshly. You 
 are a dear, good girl. Believe me, I would not afflict you, Amelia, 
 for the world. But I have been much annoyed, my love very much 
 annoyed. I know that it was cruel to speak to you thus ; but indeed 
 I scarcely knew what I said." 
 
 Far less than this would have been sufficient for Amelia, who 
 instantly tried to loo 1 ? joyous and gay. 
 
 " I know, my dear Stanley," she observed, " that you never intend 
 to speak unkindly to me ; of that I am perfectly sure, and I am there- 
 fore a weak simple creature to attach so much importance to an 
 unkind word; but, my Stanley, I have been so accustomed to asso- 
 ciate you with all that is generous, forgiving, and kind, that the 
 slightest reproof from you pierces my heart. Bless you!" she 
 added, kissing him passionately, "you are a dear good soul. I'll not 
 stay another moment to teaze you ; but do look on the bright side, 
 dear Stanley! hope still hope for the best. You do not know, 
 dear, how happy I am when you are cheerful. Pray pray do not be 
 dull !" 
 
 "I will not," replied Stanley, as he led her to the door. "I'll 
 endeavour, at least, to be calm." And when he had once more 
 embraced her, she left the room, apparently gay, although in reality 
 her heart was filled with sadness. 
 35 
 
274 STANLEY THORJS". 
 
 ""Well!" exclaimed Stanley, on being left alone, " what is to be 
 done? What can be done? Pool! fool! consummate, wretched 
 fool ! And yet, who could have conceived it to be possible ! How am 
 I to act? How can' I act? What can I do ? Nothing! I cannot 
 expose that villain without exposing myself ! For my own sake the 
 matter must not be made public. If the object for which I gave him 
 these bills were to be known, my reputation would be for ever blasted. 
 But surely they'll not attempt to enforce payment ! they'll not dare 
 to proceed farther ! It is, after all, probably done but to alarm me. 
 Doubtless Clarendale suggested the thing in return for the part I 
 took in that soiree. I wish now that I'd not made any stir at all in 
 the matter. However, I must take no more notice of it now. I was 
 a fool not to see through the whole trick before." 
 
 Had Stanley been a man of the world, he would have known that 
 bills of exchange were not playthings, and had he known that, he 
 would have known also how to proceed ; but, being utterly ignorant 
 of the nature of bills, he, following the advice of Amelia, by looking 
 on the bright side only, buoyed himself up with the idea of their 
 presentation been neither more nor less than a joke. He therefore 
 became quite gay, and during dinner gladdened the heart of Amelia 
 by playfully explaining that he saw clearly then that he had been but 
 the victim of an excellent jest. 
 
 Immediately after dinner, however, the servant informed him that 
 a person had brought a private letter, with instructions to deliver it 
 only into the hands of Mr. Thorn, which Stanley thought strange ; 
 but, conceiving it to be a eominunicatien from either Clarendale or 
 Mcher, he desired the servant to show his messenger in. A person 
 who had evidently seen better days was accordingly ushered into the 
 room ; but, on finding that Stanley was not as he had expected, alone, 
 he hesitated, bowed, and looked very mysterious. 
 
 " Can I speak with you, sir, in private ?" he inquired. 
 " You have a letter for me, I understand ?" 
 " I have, sir, if I've the pleasure to address Mr. Thorn." 
 " That is my name. Where does it come from ?" 
 " I'd rather deliver it to you, sir, in private." 
 " Oh ! we are sufficiently private ! Here, what is it all about ?" 
 The messenger, although with evident reluctance, handed him the 
 " letter," which was neither directed nor sealed, and which was found 
 to contain nothing but a writ ! 
 
 Stanley's countenance instantly fell. The very moment he saw 
 what it was, the idea of its being a jest vanished, and he became again 
 enraged. 
 
 "Why, you impudent scoundrel," he exclaimed, "what do you 
 mean by bringing this to me under false pretences ?" 
 " It's an unpleasant duty, sir : still but my duty." 
 " Leave the room I" shouted Stanley, starting up fiercely, and 
 pointing to the door. 
 
 " My dearest love !" cried Amelia, throwing her arms round his 
 neck, in a dreadful state of trepidation, " my Stanley ! pray be calm 
 pray, pray, dear, be calm. Do leave," she added, turning to the 
 messenger, " do, for my sake pray leave the room." 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 275 
 
 The messenger accordingly did leave the room ; but he thought it 
 very hard, nevertheless, that, after doing the thing as delicately as 
 possible, he should be so unhandsomely treated. 
 
 <; What on earth is it ?" cried Amelia, when this person had left. 
 
 " An insult !" replied Stanley, burning with rage. 
 
 " Pray do not resent it ! But it may be but part of that jest of 
 which you were speaking, after all." 
 
 Stanley thrust the writ into his pocket, and drank off several glasses 
 of wine ; while Amelia, who perceived that it would be inexpedient 
 then to pursue the subject farther, was silent. 
 
 Scarcely five minutes, however, had elapsed, when the servant again 
 entered to announce the arrival of another mysterious messenger, 
 who had to make a communication of the utmost importance, and of a 
 character so strictly confidential, than to deliver it to any one but 
 Stanley himself, seemed to be something bearing the semblance of 
 high treason. 
 
 " Bring him in !" cried Stanley, with a reckless air. " If he comes 
 with a legion of devils at his back, bring him in !" 
 
 The servant stared as he bowed, for he couldn't tell exactly what 
 to make of it. He evidently held it to be a sort of thing rather 
 unusual, but he nevertheless managed to back out with grace ; and 
 having accomplished this feat, he introduced the child of mystery, 
 who stood six feet and some odd inches high. 
 
 " Well ! what do you want ?" said Stanley, as this long individual 
 entered. 
 
 " Mr. Thorn, have I the honour to address ?" 
 
 " You have that honour" 
 
 " I have a document here," said the long person, gravely, and 
 producing a writ, he presented it in form. 
 
 " Oh !" said Stanley, " that's it. "Will you have a glass of wine ?' 
 
 The long man bowed, and looked as amiable as if he thought that 
 he really never met with so pleasant a fellow in the whole course of 
 his life. 
 
 " You shall have one," said Stanley. 
 
 " I feel much obliged." 
 
 Stanley filled a bumper, and dashed it in his face. 
 
 " Will you have another ?" he inquired. 
 
 The tall individual shook his head, for he really felt very uncom- 
 fortable. 
 
 " Will you have another ?" repeated Stanley. 
 
 " No, I'll not." 
 
 " Then be off, or I'll kick you out of the house." 
 
 " Kick me, and I'll give you a little law. I should only just like 
 to see you do it. Now then ! here I am ! kick me !" 
 
 " Stanley, Stanley!" cried Amelia, restraining him, as he was about 
 to make a furious rush, " dear Stanley ! do you wish to see me fall 
 dead at your feet ? Go sir," she added, addressing the stranger, " go, 
 if you are a man ! leave us, or blood will be shed !" 
 
 This intimation startled the stranger, who being by no means 
 valiant, retreated ; but in his retreat, he amazingly blustered about 
 what he would have done had he only been kicked. 
 
276 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 " You will break my heart, Stanley," cried Amelia, when the tall 
 man had left, "I am sure you will ; I cannot endure it " 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense ! nonsense !" said Stanley, who, having taken 
 too much wine, assumed an air of reckless jollity. " Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 ha ! he looked like a drowned devil. I suppose we shall have a few 
 more of them here by-and-bye. But don't be alarmed! there's 
 nothing to be alarmed at ! nothing nothing nothing !" 
 
 Amelia, who was convinced by the scowl which accompanied the 
 slow utterance of the last word, lhat there was something to be 
 apprehended, left the room, with the view of instructing the servant 
 to state, if any other person called, that his master was indisposed, 
 and therefore could not be seen ; and having delivered this instruc- 
 tion, she was about to return to Stanley, when a single knock induced 
 her to remain in the hall. 
 
 The door was opened. It was a policeman : he had called to serve 
 an assault warrant ; and Amelia, whose heart sank at the intelligence, 
 tremblingly begged of him to leave it with her, and assured him that 
 it should have due attention. The policeman consented ; and as he 
 was leaving, a notary's clerk came with one of the bills which had 
 been presented in the morning. This also Amelia, who could scarcely 
 sustain herself, wished to have left ; but as the clerk declined, on the 
 ground of its being rather unusual, she assured him that it should be 
 attended to, and he seemed to be content. Before, however, the 
 door had been closed, another notary's clerk called with the other 
 dishonoured bill, which made Amelia tremble with increased violence. 
 She did, however, manage to falter out the same assurance as that 
 which she had previously given ; but, having done so, she instantly 
 fainted. 
 
 Stanley was of course unconscious of all this : he was, in fact, 
 unconscious of almost everything, then ; for having during Amelia's 
 absence, proposed to himself innumerable toasts and sentiments, 
 such, for example, as " Confusion to Eilcher, and all of that kidney," 
 the whole of which he, of. course, drank in bumpers, he got on 
 swimmingly in more senses than one ; but although, while pro- 
 posing these toasts, and returning thanks for the persons thus 
 honoured, he appeared to repudiate all thought of care, the recollec- 
 tion of his real position stung him to the soul, and at intervals 
 goaded him almost to madness. 
 
 Amelia, notwithstanding restoratives were applied with sufficient 
 promptitude and zeal, was for a long time insensible ; and when she 
 recovered, it was but to be tortured by those dreadful feelings, which 
 can be understood aud appreciated only by those who are capable of 
 conceiving the agony experienced by a fond, gentle, amiable wife, who 
 perceives ruin rapidly approaching her home. 
 
 Resolved, however, not to sink before the blow had been struck, 
 she rallied ; and on finding herself sufficiently composed, returned to 
 the dining room, as Stanley was in the act of returning thanks in his 
 sleep, for the ladies, at the head of whom he placed "his Amelia, whose 
 virtues he highly aud eloquently extolled. 
 
 She tried to arouse him ; but as e\ery effort failed, she placed a 
 cushion beneath his head, and wept over him, and prayed to Heaven, 
 with irrepressible fervour, that he might be blessed, and preserved 
 
STANLEY THORN. 277 
 
 from all perils, and continued to watch him anxiously till midnight, 
 when he awoke. 
 
 His sleep had refreshed him ; but the effects of the wine were still 
 apparent. He was pale and confused, and while his full eyes glared 
 with an unnatural lustre, his language was strangely incoherent and 
 wild. 
 
 Amelia ordered coffee, of which he partook, and they almost 
 immediately afterwards retired ; but while he slept even more soundly 
 than usual, her apprehensions lashed repose from her. 
 
 What hours, what miserable hours are those which are passed by 
 the afflicted between midnight and dawn, when the soul is tortured, 
 and the mind is on the rack, teeming with imaginary calamities, 
 which appear in shapes more appalling than if they were real, when 
 all our thoughts conspire to afflict us, when we are able to contem- 
 plate nothing but that which gives us pain, and when everything in 
 nature seems reposing but our spirit, to which the power of endu- 
 rance only appears to be allied. Even when the mind is comparatively 
 tranquil, they are the most weary hours that are spent ; but when 
 tortured by the conception of impending ruin, they are pregnant with 
 agony. And in agony Amelia passed these wretched hours, of which 
 the silence was broken only by her sighs, while she pressed Stanley 
 closely to her heart, as if to be sure that she was not alone. 
 
 When the hour at which they usually rose had arrived, Stanley, 
 who had some recollection of what had occurred the previous evening, 
 made his customary apology, which was never on any occasion very 
 elaborate, or drawn out to any great length ; but, although brief, 
 Amelia received it, and sealed her forgiveness, as usual, with a kiss. 
 The intelligence, however, having reference to the warrant, she did 
 not communicate them ; that she deferred till after breakfast, when 
 she placed the imperative document into his hands, and explained to 
 him the manner in which it had been left. 
 
 Having perused it, Stanley smiled, and assured her that it was a 
 thing of no importance. 
 
 " But have you committed an assault ?" she inquired. 
 
 Ci I knocked a fellow down at the door. They call that: an assault, 
 I suppose." 
 
 " How can you be so rash, dear ? Eeally you will get into all sorts 
 of trouble." 
 
 " Oh ! I'll soon settle that. It's a matter of no moment what- 
 ever." 
 
 " But what could have induced you to do it ?" 
 
 " Oh ! he came here boring about a bill, or something of that 
 sort." 
 
 " Then he called again last evening. Two persons called about 
 bills!" 
 
 " Two ! What did they say ?" 
 
 " They wished to know if I thought they would be attended to, and 
 I told them that they would. Did I do right ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; quite right quite right they shall be attended to 
 with a vengeance !" 
 
 Being summoned to appear before the magistrate at eleven, he 
 
278 STANLEY THOBN. 
 
 then ordered his cab, and, on its being brought, drove to the corner of 
 Argyll Place, where he alighted, and walked to the police-office, at the 
 door of which he was accosted by an officer, who informed him that 
 the complainant had no desire to press the charge, provided he made 
 him some slight compensation. 
 
 " I'll not give him a shilling !" said Stanley. " Let the thing take 
 its course. I have reason to believe that he is connected with a gang 
 of swindlers, into whose hands, it appears, certain bills of mine have 
 fallen." 
 
 The policeman at once beckoned to the complainant, who 
 approached with a pair of remarkably ugly black eyes, Stanley having 
 struck him faithfully between them, and, in reply to a question 
 touching the respectability of his connections, stated that he had 
 been in the employ of the bankers for several years, and that all he 
 had to do with the bill was to present it for payment in the regular 
 course of business. 
 
 " Then," said Stanley, " do you mean to say that you know nothing 
 of the parties ?" 
 
 " Nothing whatever, sir, I assure you. I cannot be supposed to 
 know the parties whose names are on the bills which come" into my 
 possession. I had fifty other bills in my book at the time, and I have 
 on the average fifty every morning." 
 
 Stanley now perceived that he had made a mistake, and apologised 
 for being so impetuous. 
 
 " I am sorry it occurred," said he. "My only excuse is, my utter 
 ignorance of matters of business. What would the magistrate have 
 fined me, had the case been brought before him ?" 
 
 " Not less than three pound," replied the policeman. " The blow 
 was tre-mendious !" 
 
 " It was rather severe, I perceive," rejoined Stanley. " How much 
 of that fine would have been yours ?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing," returned the policeman. " Fines always go to the 
 crown." 
 
 Stanley immediately gave the victim five sovereigns, and one to the 
 policeman for conducting the negociation; and, when they had 
 expressed themselves perfectly satisfied, he returned to his cab, and 
 drove home. 
 
 During his absence Amelia had had additional cause for alarm. 
 Two other five hundred pound bills had been presented ; and the 
 notices, with two " forthwith" letters, for it really would appear to 
 be illegal for an attorney to send a letter without forthwith in it, 
 announcing the dishonour of two of Filcher's acceptances, were placed 
 into his hands on his return. 
 
 This appeared to complete his prostration. Nothing seemed to be 
 needed than either to subdue his spirit or to render his misery perfect. 
 Having was useless. He knew not how to act. The whole of the bills 
 eight for five hundred each had been presented, and on the follow- 
 ing day he had writs for them all. 
 
.STAKLET THOKK. 279 
 
 CHAPTEE XLYI. 
 
 THE ELOPEMENT. 
 
 It having been stated that a certain transfer was about to be arranged 
 between Filcher and the Earl, it will now be correct to explain that 
 the object proposed to be transferred was the Countess. 
 
 Clarendale the minds of whose family he greatly relieved by con- 
 vincing them that this was a mock marriage only had been so 
 rallied since the soiree affair, that, being at the same time naturally 
 apprehensive of another ridiculous display of dignity, he resolved to 
 get rid of the annoyance if possible, without a public expose being con- 
 sequent thereon. 
 
 The difficulty of accomplishing this at first appeared to be insur- 
 mountable. He felt quite sure that if he explained to his victim the 
 atrocious deception he had practised, its immediate proclamation 
 to the world would now be inevitable, if even he were to offer a con- 
 ditional annuity, to cease if the secret were revealed ; and being unable 
 to devise any other means by which the object in view was ever 
 likely to be attained, he applied to his friend Filcher, who at once 
 undertook to carry her off, and thus to render whatever claim she 
 might have upon him void. 
 
 For Clarendale this was, of course, the very thing. He applauded 
 the notion highly, and having sufficiently nattered the vanity of his 
 friend, by declaring that he believed him to be the only man who 
 had the power to execute the design, he offered to give him five 
 hundred pounds immediately after the elopement. 
 
 Filcher, knowing that he had to deal with as great a villain as 
 himself, insisted upon having the money down before he started ; and, 
 when this had been agreed to, he laid out his plans. 
 
 At first he proceeded with caution ; but having touched the right 
 chord, he spoke with due indignation of the Earl's manifest 
 indifference, denounced him bitterly for neglecting one so amiable, 
 so lovely, and so young, and explained how she ought to be treated, 
 what she ought to do and to have, and what every other Countess in 
 the kingdom would demand ! without failing to describe how he 
 would have indulged her had she been allied to him ; and as all this 
 won the approbation of her mamma, whom he viewed as an admirable 
 auxiiiar, she soon became perfectly wretched. 
 
 Having succeeded thus far, he imagined all secure ; and, being 
 anxious to be out of the way when Stanley's bills became due, he 
 arranged all he had to arrange in town, and, notwithstanding he felt 
 well convinced that any open attack even then would be repulsed, 
 fixed the day for their departure. 
 
 At his suggestion, the Earl had been absent during three successive 
 nights, and when he made his usual call the day before that on 
 which he had decided upon starting, he listened to an affecting recital 
 of the fact with due gravity and attention. 
 
 " 1 am amazed," said he, when this had been indignantly dwelt 
 
280 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 upon by the Countess and her mamma, with whom he had managed 
 to become an immense favourite, " I am perfectly amazed that a 
 lady of spirit like the Countess should tolerate such horrible conduct. 
 It really appears to me to be monstrous." 
 
 '* Monstrous," exclaimed her mamma. " It's abominable. I 
 wouldn't put up with it from any man, not if even he was a bishop ! 
 Not I ; nor would she, if she was me." 
 
 " But how can I help it, ma ? What can I do ?" cried the 
 Countess. 
 
 " Do ! pupport your dignity ! That's what do ! Belly your don't 
 seem to me to have a mite of nobility about you. It's very well he 
 hasn't me to deal with. Do you think that I'd be mumped up here 
 in this perdicament : never going nowhere, nor nothing ; no balls, 
 no parties, no operas, nor nothing of that ?" 
 
 " But what am I to do, ma, if he won't let me go ?" 
 
 " "Won't let you go ! It's a pity you throwed yourself away upon 
 him : that's my belief. But I would go ! I'd go, if it was only out 
 of spite!" 
 
 " Upon my honour," said Filcher, addressing the Countess, " I 
 really must say that you are to be blamed. You make no stir at all 
 in the world ! You have rank, amiability, and beauty, with many 
 other qualities calculated to enable you to shine forth with lustre in 
 the most brilliant sphere, and yet with all these, by Heavens ! you 
 are scarcely known ! I speak now with the warmth of a friend, I 
 should not be a friend were I to conceal the fact from you. Who 
 knows the Countess of Clarendale ? Whom does she visit ? Who 
 visits her ? In what fashionable circle does she move ? Where is 
 she ever met with ? Where is ehe ever seen ? These are questions 
 which the world will ask, and who in the world is to answer ?" 
 
 " Haven't I said the same thing over and over and over again?" 
 interposed Mrs. Q-ills. "Haven't I been dinging it into her ears 
 daily !" 
 
 " The aristocracy of this country," pursued Filcher, " is composed 
 of the most agreeable people under heaven ; and why you, having 
 so many advantages, should deprive yourself thus of their society, 
 in which you would not only impart, but derive supreme delight, I 
 really cannot at all understand." 
 
 " Will you tell me," said the Countess, earnestly, " what I am 
 to do ?" 
 
 " Why," replied Filcher, " it may be deemed presumptuous in me 
 to offer you advice ; but I should certainly say that you ought to do 
 that which is done by other ladies of title." 
 
 " But how do they do ? That is what I want to know. Suppose 
 yourself now in my position, and then tell me how you would act." 
 
 " Have you ever been on the Continent ?" rejoined Filcher. 
 
 " Never. I was once going as ladies' " 
 
 " My precious !" exclaimed her mamma. 
 
 The Countess blushed, and then resumed. " Yes, I was once going 
 in company with some ladies, but I didn't go I never went at all." 
 
 " Then, if I were you," said Filcher, " I should in the very first 
 place take a continental tour." 
 
THOBtf. 281 
 
 " But how am I to get him to go with me ?" 
 
 "It is on that very point you err. You expect him to do 
 everything for yon, when in reality you ought to do everything for 
 yourself." 
 
 " That is it," exclaimed her mamma. " The very thing I've been 
 harping upon till I'm sick." 
 
 " Well, but Iww am I to go, if so be he won't take me ?" 
 
 " Is it absolutely necessary," observed Eilcher, " that he should 
 accompany you everywhere ?" 
 
 " Certainly not" 'said Mrs. Gills. " The less a man is tied to a 
 woman's apron-string the better." 
 
 " But do you mean to tell me now, 1 ' rejoined the Countess, " that 
 I can take a continental tour alone ?" 
 
 " Alone !" returned Eilcher. " ^N~o ; that would be entirely out of 
 the question. JSTo lady of title ever travels alone. Your niamuii 
 would accompany you, of course." 
 
 " But ma can't talk French, you know, any more than me." 
 
 "Oh, that would not be of the slightest importance. Of course 1 
 you would have with you some gentleman who could ?" 
 
 " Ah ! well, I thought you couldn't mean that ma and me should 
 go and run about the Continent alone. But what gentleman could 
 we get to go with us ?" 
 
 " Oh ! hundreds would be delighted to accompany you, or aiiy 
 other lady of title. For instance, I think myself of starting foi< 
 Calais to-morrow, and from thence I shall go to Paris, thence to Italy, 
 Switzerland, and so on ; and I am sure you may in any way command 
 my services." 
 
 " But you don't mean to say that you are going off to-morrow." 
 
 "I am, if nothing of importance should occur to prevent me ?" 
 
 " Oh ! how dearly I should like to go too !" 
 
 " You would, I am sure, be delighted. Beside?, it would be highly 
 advantageous. You know." he added, addressing her mamma, 
 " what an extremely elegant tone a continental trip gives to a womau 
 of fashion." 
 
 " In course ! there's nothing like it !" returned Mrs. Gills. 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed the Countess, " I should like to go dearly." 
 
 " Why not, then, make up your mind at ones ?" 
 
 " Well, I really have a great mind to ask him to let me." 
 
 " The old error !" said Filcher. " Why ask laia permission f You 
 are not his servant." 
 
 " That's just what I tell her," observed her mamma. " If she was 
 only a mere housemaid, she couldn't do more/* 
 
 " It should always be remembered," said Filcher, " that you are now 
 your own mistress, and that the exalted position you occupy entitles 
 you to have in all matters a will of your own." 
 
 " But would it be correct for me to go without asking his leave, 
 or saying a word to him on the subject?" 
 
 "Of course! Decidedly. It is done by all ladies of title. It 
 forms one of their chief characteristics. It is, in a wor i, that very 
 independence which distinguishes them from pcoplo of no impor- 
 tance." 
 
 86 
 
282 
 
 " That's it," said Mrs, Gills. ".Independence is the tbing, 
 what I have always stuck up for." 
 
 " If, indeed," resumed Filch er, " you were to make up your mind, 
 you might say, if you happened to see him, ' I am going for a short 
 tour on the Continent with mamma and Captain Filcher ;' but should 
 you not see him, why all you need do then would be to write a note 
 to that effect, and desire your servant to give it to him on his return. 
 But probably you have no desire to travel ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I should love it above all things ! Shouldn't you, nia ?" 
 
 " Certainly, my love : I have always longed to see foreign parts ; 
 and I am sure, as the Captain says, in your present position, it would 
 do you all the good in the world." 
 
 " Besides," observed Eilcher, " the advantages to be derived from 
 it at this particular time are incalculable ; for independently of the 
 continental tone which the Countess would acquire, and which is of 
 itself an extremely valuable acquisition, her absence from Clarendale 
 just now would have the effect of raising her in his estimation ; for 
 it appears to be very clear to me that he does not sufficiently 
 appreciate her value." 
 
 " That's very true," said Mrs. Gills. " no more he doesn't. He 
 don't know what a treasure he's got. I'll say it, although she's my 
 daughter." 
 
 " So that you see," resumed Filcher, " that while sustaining her 
 digmty, and 'deriving all the brilliant advantages of foreign travel, 
 she would be laying the foundation of her importance at home, aud 
 extending her influence, as a lady of title ought." 
 
 " To be sure she would. It's my notion precisely." 
 
 " But lor, though if we were to go !" exclaimed the Countess. 
 " My patience me, though, what would he say ?" 
 
 "Why, that you were what every lady of title ought to be a 
 woman of spirit," replied Filcher. "He would be pleased, I am 
 sure of it, and would have a higher opinion of you than ever. But 
 I beg you'll not allow me to persuade you against your own 
 inclinations." 
 
 " Oh, dear me, no ! I ^lould, I am sure, be delighted !" 
 
 " I merely throw out the hint as a friend, in the full conviction of 
 its being the only way to bring him to a sense of what is due to 
 you ; and, as I am going, it will not of course put me at all out of 
 the way : and I am quite sure that Clarendale, when he hears that 
 I am with you, will feel perfectly satisfied of your being well 
 protected." 
 
 " But won't it be very expensive ?" inquired Mrs. Gills. 
 
 " Oh ! not at all. You can live on the Continent, you know, for 
 a mere trifle. But I'll manage that. I should like you to go, 
 because I think you would be enchanted." 
 
 " Well, what do you think, ma ? Shall we ?" 
 
 " Why it's an opportunity that certaiuly don't ought to be lost, 
 my love, that's what I look at. But then, you see, the mischief of 
 it is, there's no time to prepare." 
 
 " The notice is very short," added the Countess. 
 
 " So much the better," cried Filcher* " It will show that you are 
 
STANLEY THORN. 283 
 
 not only a woman of spirit, but a creature of impulse ! which is 
 highly important." 
 
 " But I think," said Mrs. G-ills, " it would be just as well, you 
 know, to name the subject to him." 
 
 " Oli ! I'd name it to him, by all means, if he came home ; but if 
 not, why it's a thing which in high life is never expected. Look 
 among the fashionable arrivals and departures in any of the daily 
 papers, arid you will see that the Duchess of So-and-so started 
 for the lakes. Where's the Duke? "Why, in town! That the 
 Countess of G-rogram, for example, has just arrived from the 
 Continent. "Where is the Eirl. Why, over there. Among the 
 aristocracy, these things are understood. They are not like common 
 people : they are perfectly independent of each other." 
 
 " Oh I see the distinction," observed Mrs. Gills ; " and a very good 
 distinction it is, in my mind. It is nothing but proper that people 
 of quality should conduct theirselvea distinct from the more common 
 scum." 
 
 " Well, ma, shall we go ?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm quite agreeable, my love ; and I think we ought to be 
 much obleedged to the Captain into the bargain." 
 
 " Not at all," cried Filcher. " Oh, dear me, no not at all. I 
 shall feel highly honoured." 
 
 " Won't it be nice, ma ? Won't it be beautiful when we return, 
 to say we've been at Paris, and we've been to G-ermany, and we've 
 been to Italy, nnd seen this and that. My gracious me, though, 
 won't it be delicious ? I shall be in such a fidget until we are oft'!" 
 
 " I thought of starting at ten to-morrow morning ; but if that be 
 too early for you, why we'll say eleven." 
 
 " Oh ! ten o'clock will do," said the Countess. " Ma and me can 
 be both of us ready by ten." 
 
 " Well, then, let me see," said Filcher. " There will be you, your 
 mamma, and myself, that will be three ; my servant and yours will 
 make five altogether. Yes, that will do well." 
 
 " Oh, then, I'm to take a servant with me ?" 
 
 " By all means, I should say. You will find it more convenient." 
 
 " Very well. We'll be ready. You'll be sure not to be later than 
 ten." 
 
 " At ten precisely the carriage shall be at the door," replied 
 Filcher, who then took leave, and went direct to the hotel at which 
 he knew the Earl was waiting to hear the result. 
 
 "What a nice man!" observed Mrs. Grills, when he had left. 
 " I shouldn't a bic mind marrying such a man as that. He's such a, 
 gentleman !" 
 
 " That he is, is'nt he, ma ?" cried the Countess. 
 
 " And understands the ways of the nobility so well." 
 
 " And such a dear, too, to offer so kind'y to 'scort us. I wonder 
 though what my lord '11 say !" 
 
 " Oh, it'll bring him to his senses. It'll show him you ain't 
 the poor speritless thing he takes you for. He'll treat you all the 
 better. As the Captain says, there's nothing in the world like 
 supporting your independence and dignity. It's just what I've 
 
284 STANLEY THOEN. 
 
 always stuck up for. You know I've told you, times out of number, 
 that you'd only to show that you had a little proper aristocracy about 
 you to get yourself respected in your spere. But come, my precious ! 
 we've no time to lose !" 
 
 " Well, I hope he'll come home, though, so that we may tell him !" 
 
 " Don't bother your head about that. If he comes home we'll tell 
 him : if he don't he don't ought to be told. We'll just leave a note 
 and then start. All ladies of quality does it, and that's quite 
 enough." 
 
 Of course the Earl took especial care not to return. Xor would 
 he even leave the hotel, lest they should, by any accident, see him. 
 He and the Captain dined together, and having passed a jovial 
 evening, separated with feelings of mutual satisfaction. 
 
 Punctually at ten on the following morning the Captain arrived in 
 a carriage and four, and was much pleased to find that their minds 
 were unchanged indeed, they appeared to be more anxious than ever 
 to go a fact which was chiefly ascribable to the circumstance of 
 Clarendale having been agaiu out all night. Everything was in 
 readiness. They were already dressed ; the trunks were packed, and 
 placed in the hall, while the servants were waiting to attach them to 
 the carriage, and when this had been accomplished they started for 
 Dover, without a moment's unnecessary delay. 
 
 As the Captain had engaged to take the carriage four stages, they 
 proceeded in the most agreeable manner over Shooter's Hill, through 
 "Welling, Gravesend, Dartford, and Rochester, to Sittingbourne. Here 
 they stopped to take refreshment, and here it was that the Captain 
 resolved to execute his design of escaping from the lively society of 
 Mrs. Gills. 
 
 Having conducted the ladies into the inn, and given the necessary 
 orders, he left them and went into the yard, where he engaged two 
 chaises for Canterbury, and called aside one of the post-boys, whose 
 countenance he for some time scrutinised in the most mysterious 
 manner. 
 
 " I think," said he at length," I think that I may trust you !" 
 
 The fellow opened his mouth, and scratched his head, and looked 
 as if he didn't understand it nor did he. 
 
 " I do not believe that I am mistaken," pursued Filcher. " I cnn 
 generally tell by the look of a man what he is ; and it' I am vof 
 deceived, I shall put five pounds at once into your pocket, and make 
 you a handsome present on my return/' 
 
 The man stared, and looked extremely concerned ! his amazement 
 was unspeakable ! he couldn't make it out. Still, in the midst of his 
 consternation he gracefully caught hold of a tuft of ragged hair upon 
 his forehead, with the view of conveying the idea of a most respectful 
 bow. 
 
 " I'm sure I may trust you," continued Filcher, gravely. " I'll 
 therefore explain . I have two ladies with me one young and lovely, 
 the other old and very disagreeable. Now the young one to come 
 to the point at once I want to run away with, and as with your 
 assistance I can manage it with ease, the only question is, will you aid 
 me?" 
 
STANLEY T1IOBN. 285 
 
 Postboys are known, by all men of experience, to be the most 
 chivalrous dogs upon the road, the best fellows under heaven to 
 assist in an elopement, and as this was really one of the true breed, 
 he without hesitation consented . 
 
 " Boot," said he, " how be it to be doon ? I marn't go the wrong 
 rood!" 
 
 " Can't you pull the chaise into some dry ditch ?" suggested 
 Filcher, " and there stick for an hour or so ?" 
 
 " To be sure I can ! That's capital, be gum ! I never thoot o' that 
 now till you did. I'll do't." 
 
 " I may depend upon you r" 
 
 Oh '.I'll do't ! rifdo't!" 
 
 " Very well. Then let -your chaise aland first at the door there 
 must be no mistake about that, and when you get about halfway 
 between this and Canterbury, why there let us pass you, and then 
 you understand ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I'll do't handy, sir ; never fear that." 
 
 The Captain then gave him five pounds, and returned to the ladies. 
 
 " I am sorry," said he, on entering the room, " that we must 
 separate until we get to Canterbury. The carriage in which we came 
 must go back, and I con get nothing here but a couple of chaises, 
 neither of which will carry more than two." 
 
 " Oh ! we shall be able to manage!" cried the Countess. 
 
 " I atn at a loss to guess how ! You see these machines have no 
 seats outside. It is true, my servant can sit upon the bar; but then 
 what's to become of yours ?" 
 
 " Oh ! let her ride inside with me !" said Mrs. Gills. " I don't 
 mind, you know ! nobody won't see us !" 
 
 This act of condescension was appreciated by the Captain, who, in 
 return, however, simply said, " Well, as you please." 
 
 Accordingly, having concluded their repast, the Captain handed 
 Mrs. Gills and the maid into the first chaise with unexampled grace, 
 and when the Countess and himself were duly seated in the other, 
 to which all the trunks had been attached by his direction, their 
 journey was resumed. 
 
 Entertaining in the extreme was the Captain, while the Countess 
 was delighted as well with him as with herself, and thus they pro- 
 ceeded steadily, until they got to Eaversham, where they passed the 
 other chaise, which stopped ostensibly in order that one of the 
 bridles might be slightly re-adjusted. 
 
 The Countess waved her hand as she passed, of course, and was re- 
 cognised by her mamma, to whom the Captain mentally bade adieu, 
 feeling convinced then that all was secure. 
 
 Nor was he deceived. On remounting, the postboy, who drove 
 Mrs. Gills, followed with or eat care for nearly two miles, when all at 
 once his horses began to kick, and plunge, and snort, in the most 
 miraculous manner possible. 
 
 "Be careful, there's a good man !" cried Mrs. Grills, thrusting her 
 head out of one of the front windows. 
 
 " Blarm yer ! wo !" cried the postboy, backing h ; s horses violently. 
 Wo! Dyer want to get into the dyke ?" . 
 
286 STANLEY TUOKX. 
 
 And in an instant in the twinkling of au eye and with all the 
 ingenuity at his command, he pulled the chaise into a ditch, which 
 contained, instead of water, black mud, thickly coated with chick- 
 weed. 
 
 " Oh ! we shall be drowned!'* shrieked Mrs. Q-illa, and that shriek 
 was duly echoed by the maid, who entertained the same opinion. 
 
 "I thought what you was up to !" cried the postboy, who was some- 
 what of a wag in his way. " I knowed you was arter suffin'. "What 
 d'yer mean, hay ? Ain't the rood wide enow for yer ? Blarm yer car- 
 casses ! couldn't yer be satisfied arout gettin' into the dyke?" 
 
 " We shall be killed ! we shall be killed !" exclaimed Mrs. Gills 
 frantically. "Oh! my good man! my dear good man pray get 
 us out pray do !" 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, mum ! oh ! don't be alarmed ! there's uothin' 
 bruk ! It'll be ri^ht ag'in in a little while, blarm 'em ! They must get 
 into the dyke ! I knowed what they was arter ! They're about the 
 most warmentest cattle as is. If they ever take anythin' into their 
 heads" 
 
 " Well well well ! get us out ! pray pray get us out ! Oh 
 dear! I am ready to die." 
 
 The fellow then opened the door, and with his aid they managed to 
 alight in perfect safety, when he begged of them both as a favour 
 not to be frightened, and set to work with the apparent view of 
 getting the chaise out of the ditch. 
 
 And his efforts were desperate. They were almost indeed super- 
 human. He reasoned with his horses, and lashed, and pulled, while 
 the wheels sank deeper and deeper, until at length, having dexter- 
 ously backed into two good feet of consistent mud, he gave the thing 
 up in despair. 
 
 " It's o' no use," said he, in a state of steaming perspiration. " It 
 bean't a single ha'porth o' use ! I carit get un out !" 
 
 " What on earth are we to do, then ?" exclaimed Mrs. Gills. 
 
 An idea seemed to strike him. "I have it "said he; and he had. 
 " Just walk about a little bit, ladies, and I'll just gallop off for soorn 
 help." 
 
 This was held hy Mrs. Gills to be an adaiirable thought, and he 
 immediately took his horses out, tied the head of the off-oue to the 
 wheel, mounted the other, and started back to Faversham for assist- 
 ance, while the ladies promenaded in front of the chaise, in a horrible 
 state of alarm. 
 
 Now, although the fellow went at a slapping pace until he had got 
 out of sight, truth prompts the admission that he was, after that, in 
 no hurry at all. He did, however, manage by diut of perseverance 
 to do the last mile in about fifty minutes ; and, having accomplished 
 that extraordinary feat, engaged three stout men, with whom, after 
 having four pots of ale, he hastened back at the rate of full three 
 miles an hour, until they came in sight of the chaise, when he started 
 off again at full gallop, while the men commenced running as if from 
 a fiend. 
 
 By this time the patience of both Mrs. Gills and the maid was as 
 nearly as possible exhausted. To them the man appeared to have 
 
been gone a whole day ! His re-appearauce, however, cheered their 
 weary hearts ; and when he and his men came up breathless and hot, 
 he received great applause for his noble exertions. 
 
 They then commenced work, and after having ingeniously experi- 
 mentalized for about twenty minutes, they happily succeeded in 
 getting the chaise out ; and when Mrs. Gills had rewarded the men, 
 and begged of the postboy to drive with all the speed that might 
 indeed be consistent with their safety, they started once more. 
 
 The postboy, who then seemed most anxious to prove that his 
 chief characteristic was caution, got his horse fairly into a legitimate 
 jog, and explained to them at length what he thought of their conduct 
 with due indignation and point. 
 
 Having finished this lecture to his own satisfaction, te began to 
 sing with nearly all the voice he had in him ; and thus did he amuse 
 himself, quite at his ease, until he arrived within half a mile of 
 Canterbury, when, in order to finish his work with eclat, he treated 
 his horses to a fair full trot, and dashed in style into the town. 
 
 Here immediate inquiries were made for the Countess and her com- 
 panion ; but, instead of finding them there, as she expected, Mrs. 
 Grills ascertained that after waiting some time they had gone on. She 
 therefore instantly ordered a fresh chaise, and followed them to 
 Dover with all possible speed, but her search there was equally 
 fruitless ; for the Captain, on his arrival, having learned that a 
 packet would start in an hour for Calais, instructed his servant to 
 take all the luggage on board, which being effected, the Countess, 
 of course, felt compelled in a measure to go on board too. This, how- 
 ever, was not done without great reluctance. She naturally wanted 
 to wait for her mamma. What on earth could have become of her ? 
 What could she do on her arrival, when she found that they were 
 gone? 
 
 The Captain calmed her fears by explaining that her mamma had 
 in all probability been taken " the longest way round ;" that, of 
 course, she would be certain to find them at Calais ; and that hia 
 servant, to whom he had given private instructions should remain 
 to attend to her when she arrived ; and having thua overruled her 
 objections, they went on board the packet, which left Dover nearly 
 two hours before Mrs. Gills reached the Eoyal Hotel. 
 
288 STANLEY THORJT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVII. 
 
 THE ATvREST - TUB PllOPOSAL THE DUEL, AND ITS RESULT. 
 
 EING totally unacquainted with the imperative character of the 
 legal instruments he had then in his possession, Stanley knew not 
 what course to pursue, but as Sir William had been from the first 
 cognisant of the speculation into which he had entered, he eventually 
 decided on soliciting his advice under the circumstances, conceiving 
 that this might be done without his poverty being exposed. 
 
 He accordingly lost no time in laying the whole matter before him, 
 and when the case had been fully explained, Sir "William appeared 
 to be, not only greatly surprised, but extremely indignant. 
 
 " However," said he, " the thing is too gross to succeed. Take 
 no sort of notice of these writs, treat them with contempt." 
 
 " I should not care," said Stanley, " if it were a bona fide debt." 
 
 " Of course not ; of course not ; you'd settle it at once. But this 
 is a fraud ! a positive fraud ! It is all very well for them thus to 
 try it on ; but it is sure to come to nothing, unless, indeed, you are 
 disposed to he frightened out of your money!" 
 
 "They will not frighten me," replied Stanley. " That's quite out 
 of the question. If that be their object, they'll fail." 
 
 " Then let them pursue their own course ; let them cut their own 
 throats. You will receive other papers in a few days, doubtless 
 burn them ! When they find that you set them at defiance, they'll 
 very soon relinquish their swindling scheme. It would indeed be 
 monstrous if, in a country like this, a fraud so glaring and direct 
 could succeed." 
 
 Acting upon this advice, which was of course the very worst that 
 could have been given, Stanley troubled himself no more about the 
 matter. The declarations came, then the order to tax ; but no notice 
 whatever was taken untiloneof the parties had obtained final judgment. 
 
 Unconscious of the nature of the position in which he stood, 
 having no more knowledge than a child of the fact that he might, at 
 any hour, be arrested, Stanley continued to go about as usual ; but 
 the day after that on which the party had entered up judgment, he 
 was accosted near the Albany by a person, who having approached 
 him with an air of great mystery, touched his arm and said in an 
 interesting whisper, " Mr. Thorn, will you walk on ? I'll follow you." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" interrupted Stanley, who had not the most 
 distant idea of the fellow's object. " Walk on." 
 
 " Yes ; and then no notice will be taken. I wouldn't have seen 
 you myself, but you have just been pointed out to me," 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 The man smiled, and although he felt sure that his meaning was 
 well understood, expressed himself quietly to the effect that the 
 thing, in all probability, had not been expected. 
 
STANLEY THOEtf. 289 
 
 "Will you," said Stanley, "explain yourself at once?" 
 
 "Don't you know a sheriff's officer when you see him ?" inquired 
 the man, who really thought it a capital joke, " But perhaps you 
 have never been taken before ?" 
 
 Stanley now clearly perceived how it was, and the truth no sooner 
 struck him than he became extremely tremulous and turned very 
 pale. " Step this way with me," said he, " I wish to consult a friend 
 on this subject." 
 
 " Anything to oblige," returned the officer, who followed him at 
 once to Sir William's chambers. 
 
 "It appears I am arrested," said he to Sir William, as he entered. 
 
 "Arrested!" echoed Sir William. " What, at the suit of those 
 swindlers ? Impossible !" 
 
 " Here is the officer ! It does not appear to be impossible ?" 
 
 " Well, I am amazed. The impudent scoundrels ! However, we'll 
 soon settle this. You must go of course now ; but I'll walk down 
 with you, and ascertain what can be done. I'll work the rascals. I 
 leave them to me." 
 
 Stanley with a feeling of gratitude consented ; and perhaps there 
 are no conceivable circumstances under which a man appreciates the 
 kind offices of a friend more highly than when situated as he was 
 then. We are generally inclined, despite the cold-blooded doctrines 
 of the hypochondriacal, to view the bright side of human nature, to 
 confide in the faith of our fellow-men, to believe that there is infinite 
 goodness in them, to repudiate the thought that "friends are always 
 friends except when friends are needed," and, to reverse the 
 uuaimable precept which would prompt us to look upon every m:iu 
 as a rogue until we have absolutely proved him to be an honest 
 man ; but more strongly than ever do we incline to the belief n 
 belief perhaps partially based upon hope that in the human heart 
 kindness predominates when in periods of difficulty men come 
 forward with the ostensible view of rendering all possible assistance ; 
 it is then that we are most credulous on the subject of friendship ; 
 it is then that faith generates feelings of pride ; it is then that wo 
 Hatter ourselves with the assurance that we have friends true 
 friends friends prepared to make any sacrifice to serve us ; it is then 
 that we are most blinded by professions of friendship, and therefore 
 most easily deceived. 
 
 Stanley felt that Sir William was his friend more stronly than 
 ever ; he was, indeed, anxious to be guided by him solely, while the 
 promptitude with which he undertook to " see him through it " 
 inspired him with far more gratitude than his pride would allow him 
 to express. 
 
 Having accompanied him to one of those establishments, in which 
 respectable debtors usually receive their first impressions on the 
 subject of the deprivation of social liberty, Sir William reassured 
 him that he would immediately call upon the attornies, and that 
 nothing that could be done should be left undone by him. 
 
 " But Amelia," said Stanley, " how are we to conceal it from her ?" 
 " Oh, I'll manage that. You have been unexpectedly called into 
 the coimtrv, or something of that sort," 
 37' 
 
290 STANLEY THORN. 
 
 "1 . 
 
 " No," said Stanley " no no that will not do ; suspicion would 
 at once be excited ; she would never believe that anything could 
 induce me to go out of town without taking leave of her. No ; 
 perhaps, as it appears that there is not much chance of my getting 
 out of this place to-day, it would be better to explain it to her 
 gradually." 
 
 " Well ; you know her best ; let it be so. "Will you write then, 
 or shall I prepare her to receive the intelligence, and then bring it 
 out in course of conversation ?" 
 
 " Why, you can explain it in that way with greater effect than I 
 can in a letter. You can say, you know, of course, that the thing 
 has been done to annoy me, and so on." 
 
 " I'll manage it. But I shall see you again before then ; I'll 
 return directly after I have seen the attornies, in order that you may 
 know the result." 
 
 Stanley thanked him warmly and he left, not however with the 
 slightest intention of calling upon the attornies, but solely in order to 
 perfect that scheme which he conceived might be then carried into 
 execution. With this view he went to a neighbouring tavern, and 
 having sufficiently, in his judgment, dwelt upon the course to be 
 pursued, and weighed each particular point with great minuteness, 
 he returned to Stanley, to whom he stated, with an expression of 
 disappointment, that the attornies in question could not be seen 
 until the following morning, when promising to be with them very 
 early and to come direct from them to him, he left, ostensibly, iu 
 order to explain to Amelia the nature of Stanley's position. 
 
 Amelia, whose happiness had daily increased since Stanley had 
 become less impetuous, and who fondly conceived that that happiness 
 would be permanent, as his passion for the gaieties of life had been 
 materially subdued, was expecting him home when Sir William 
 arrived. She was alone; the widow had just before left her ; but 
 when Sir William had been announced, he was shown into the 
 drawing-room and received as a much valued friend. 
 
 "I expect Stanley every moment," she observed. "He is sure 
 not to be long." 
 
 " Has he not been home within the last hour or two r" 
 
 " No ; he has been out the whole of the morning." 
 
 " Then you are probably not aware that I am to have the honour 
 of dining with you to-day ?" 
 
 "The honour will be ours," returned Amelia with a smile, which 
 was highly appreciated by Sir William, who bowed, and then entered 
 into the various topics of the day, which were discussed on both 
 sides with great spirit. 
 
 At length, however, Amelia began to get impatient. " How 
 tiresome,'* she exclaimed, "it is more than half an hour past the 
 time ! But you gentlemen are all very tiresome creatures." 
 
 " All, did you say ?" 
 
 " I said all, certainly ; but Sir William, on this occasion, must of 
 course be excepted. It will, I perceive, be more safe to say the 
 majority in future." 
 
 This led to a playful debate, which occupied another half hour 
 
STANLEY THOKN-. 291 
 
 when/ Amelia exclaimed : " Well, now really, this js indeed very 
 vexatious. I cannot conceive what on earth can detain him !" 
 
 "I begin to fear now," observed Sir "William, " that we shall not 
 have the pleasure of dining with him to-day. s> 
 
 " Oh, dear yes, I hope so ! However, we'll give him one quarter 
 of an hour longer ; we'll give him no more. If he should not return 
 by that time he must have, when he does return, a very severe 
 scolding." 
 
 The next quarter of an honr was passed in most lively conversation, 
 and the next, when, as Stanley of course did not make his 
 appearance, Amelia, with great reluctance, rang the bell, and having 
 given the necessary instructions, was led by Sir William into the 
 dining room with an expression of disappointment which she could 
 not conceal, although feeling, as a matter of courtesy, bound to be, 
 if possible, gay . 
 
 During dinner, politeness the most refined alone characterised the 
 conduct of Sir William, but that ceremony ended, he called all his 
 brilliant conversational powers into play. As a man of the world 
 in the common acceptance of the term, he had too much tact to 
 permit precipitation in any case to weaken the chances of conquest, 
 and while he knew that any direct attack upon virtue forms virtue's 
 most invulnerable panophy, he attached due weight to the fact that 
 wit and irony, highly tempered, are the most potent weapons that 
 can be used, when the object in view is virtue's gradual subversion. 
 He therefore thought to assail it imperceptibly at first, and then to 
 proceed to an analysis of its nature, and having opened the subject 
 of marriage he pursued it in a most lively strain, dwelling playfully 
 upon its varied characteristics, and ironically darting at married 
 persons, in the aggregate, the most highly polished shafts of ridicule. 
 Into all this Amelia entered, defending with spirit every point he 
 asserted, and contrasting the most delightful features of married life 
 with those which he portrayed, and which were of course the most 
 unamiable, without entertaining the most remote idea that he had any 
 other object in view than that of whetting the dulness which, in her 
 judgment, during Stanley's absence invariably characterized time. 
 
 At length, conceiving that he had made an excellent beginning, he 
 approached nearer home, and having dwelt upon the credulity of 
 married ladies in general on the subject of their husbands' fidelity, 
 and adduced a variety of instances to illustrate the strength of the 
 position he had assumed, he spoke of Stanley, and after alluding to 
 his personal attractions, observed, " Now, I should not be at all sur- 
 prised if you, even you, were to repudiate the idea of his being 
 unfaithful." 
 
 "Why, it would not be very surprising," returned Amelia, "if I 
 did ; and I certainly should, if it were possible for such an idea to be 
 entertained." 
 
 " Just as I expected! You wouldnotbelieveit! No, not for the world. 
 " I would not believe it for the world, without cause, nor would I, 
 for the whole world, have cause to believe it." 
 
 " Of course you would not ! I knew that ! Nor would you hold any- 
 thing to be a sufficient cause." 
 
292 STATUE! THOEK. 
 
 'Why yes that I might do." 
 
 " Impossible ! surely !" 
 
 " Why," rejoined Amelia smilliiig, " the circumstances certainly 
 would have to be very strong !" 
 
 " But what conceivable circumstances could be strong enough ?" 
 
 " Nay, that I cannot tell ! But do you not think that a man of 
 Stanley's principle, strength of mind and delicacy of feeling would be 
 utterly incapable of any act, involving the sacrifice of honour?" 
 
 Sir 'William smiled. 
 
 " But tell me," interrupted Amelia, resolved to adhere to that 
 point ; " do you imagine that such a man would thus want only blight 
 uis own happiness and that of those with whom he is connected F" 
 
 " Certainly he ought not ; but it does not follow, that because a 
 man is faithless, the happiness of his home must be blighted!" 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 " If it did, I fear that happiness among married persons would 
 have lut an imaginary existence." 
 
 " Nay ; now you are too severe !" 
 
 " No ; not at all." 
 
 " But you surely do not mean to say that such a man as Stanley 
 would be unfaithful ?" 
 
 " Why, I don't know that he is so much unlike the rest." 
 
 " I have not so unworthy an opinion of the rest." 
 
 " Which proves the amiability of your character." 
 
 " Nor have you, I feel convinced, seriously." 
 
 " I cannot be serious on a subject of this kind ; I cannot be tran- 
 quil," cried Sir William with a smile, " I feel much too indignant ! 
 But men are clever creatures I allude more especially to married 
 men who certainly do inspire with confidence those whom they con- 
 stantly deceive, to an extent that is perfectly amazing. Let them 
 remain out the whole day or even all night, it's a matter of no import- 
 ance ; the most absolute impunity awaits them. Let them keep as 
 many mistresses as fancy may prompt them to keep, neglecting those 
 whom they vowed to honour and cherish, they have but to invent 
 certain plausible tales, and, as you silly people believe them, they are 
 of course all right with their consciences and you." 
 
 " Not I apprehend, with their consciences !" 
 
 " Conscience sleeps while pleasure reigns !" 
 
 " To sting with ten-fold force when awakened. But you are speak- 
 ing of men without principle profligate men !" 
 
 *" I speak of them all all married men do it, more or less." 
 
 " Nay. nay ; that I cannot believe." 
 
 " I did not for a moment expect that you would ! As far as our 
 dazzling friend Stanley is concerned, you would not believe anything 
 prejudical to his reputation, were you even to know where he is, where 
 he has been the whole of the day, and where moreover he is likely to be 
 the whole of the night." 
 
 Amelia's countenance instantly changed. " Are you serious?" she 
 inquired with an expression of the most intense earnestness. "Have 
 you the slightest knowledge of where be is now ?" 
 
STANLEY 
 
 '" It is manifest, by his continued absence, that lie is in most 
 attractive company." 
 
 " But do you know where he is ?" 
 " Why I could give a pretty shrewd guess !" 
 " Where then do you imagine him to be ?" 
 
 " iXay, that is a question which I must not answer. It would not 
 be exactly fair between man and man. No, although his treatment 
 of me to-day in remaining there when he had invited me here has not 
 been, perhaps, precisely the thing, I am not at all disposed to 
 retaliate in that way. "_ If indeed " 
 
 " Sir "William," interrupted Amelia, " I would submit that this is 
 a subject which ought not to be pursued." 
 " Why not, my dear madam ?" 
 
 " Because, setting all ideas having reference to your friendship for 
 Stanley aside, it may lead us beyond the strict bounds of delicacy." 
 
 " Oh, but these things in a society arc thought but little of. They 
 happen daily they are, in fact, occurrences for which every married 
 lady ought to be prepared." 
 
 " I am not ; nor do I wish to be prepared. But we must not dwell 
 upon this subject any longer, for you jest so earnestly, that were I not 
 secure in Stanley's honour, you would positively make me quite 
 jealous." 
 
 " Oh you ladies ! you ladies ! We have but returned to the point 
 from which we started ; we have but proved your credulity on this 
 subject to be unbounded." 
 
 A pause ensued ; during which Amelia dwelt with unenviable 
 feelings upon the various intimations she had received. Why why 
 did not Stanley return ? Was there any sufficient grounds for sus- 
 picion ? Where was he ? In whose society ? What could have 
 detained him ? It was strange ! very strange ! Surely he had not 
 been seduced into the vortex of vice ! His honour surely had pre- 
 served him ! He was faithful and virtuous still ! And yet, why why 
 did he not return ? 
 
 Sir William, who watched with delight the development of those 
 feelings with these unhappy thoughts had induced, and who exhibited 
 every disposition to remain, although he saw that Amelia was most 
 anxious for him to leave, suffered silence to prevail for some consider- 
 able time ; but, at length, he exclaimed : " Well ! you see, he does 
 not return nor will he to-night !" 
 
 " Oh do not say so ; I hope, nay I feel quite sure that he. will." 
 " I can bear this no longer!" cried Sir William with a gesture which 
 was intended to convey the idea that his feelings had been wound up 
 to the very highest pitch of endurance. " Entertaining, as I do, the 
 most exalted respect for your character, knowing as I do the con - 
 tiding gentleness and unexampled amiability of your disposition, I 
 feel myself bound by every principle of manliness, friendship, and 
 justice, to conceal no longer the fact of his being utterly unworthy 
 of you." 
 
 " Sir!" exclaimed Amelia fixing her eyes upon him with a flash of 
 indignation. 
 
 " Do not misinterpret my object," he observed, 
 
291 STANLEY TIIOEtf. 
 
 " What is your object ?" 
 
 " To rescue an amiable creature from one who is as vain as lie ia 
 heartless, one who can neither appreciate her admirable qualities nor 
 love her." 
 
 Amelia, darting a look of contempt at him, instantly rose and rang 
 the bell : but, although this prompt proceeding in some slight degree 
 amazed him, he, instead of appearing disconcerted, smiled, and 
 remained silent until the servant entered. 
 
 " Is Sir "William's carriage at the door?" inquired Amelia. 
 
 " I believe not, ma'am," replied the servant. 
 
 " Let me know when it arrives," said Sir William with perfect 
 coolness, and as the servant immediately bowed and retired, he added, 
 " Why, my dear madam, why will you not hear me ? I know that 
 these truths are unpalatable, yet they are truths nevertheless truths 
 of which you ought not to remain in ignorance." 
 
 " Sir William Wormwell," said Amelia firmly, " I have up to this 
 hour, regarded you as a most sincere friend, but I now look upon you 
 as a most specious, treacherous enemy." 
 
 " My dear creature, do not apply such harsh, cruel terms to him 
 who adores you !" 
 
 " Leave me, sir, instantly !" 
 
 " Amelia !" 
 
 " Sir how dare you thus address me ? What have you ever per- 
 ceived in my conduct to lead you to imagine that this insult would be 
 endured ?" 
 
 " My dear creature, since you will not allow me to call you Amelia 
 loving you better than all the world, I would not for the whole 
 world insult you." 
 
 " But you have, sir, insulted me grossly." 
 
 " Then on my knee I beg pardon and while on my knee since 
 luve is no crime let me entreat you to listen to me but for a moment." 
 
 " Rise, sir, and leave me !" 
 
 " I will not until I have, at least, declared that ardent passion, 
 whose fire consumes my very soul." 
 
 Again Amelia rose and seized the bell-rope, but her hand was 
 arrested by Sir William, who exclaimed " For Heaven's sake, for the 
 sake of your own reputation, which I prize far more highly than 
 life, do not ring that bell again. Amelia ! I must call you so if you 
 cannot look upon me with affection, at least consider that you have 
 made me what I am that your beauty has inspired me with love 
 which I never had for any living creature before that your gentle, 
 amiable disposition has caused me to centre every hope I have in you ; 
 consider this, dear, lovely Amelia consider, also, that you are the 
 slave the devoted slave of one who is now, at this very hour, 
 wantonly, heartlessly, brutally ridiculing the patient love of her whom 
 he solemnly swore at the altar Jto cherish ; and having thus con- 
 sidered, you will not, and I feel that you will not, spurn him who 
 adores you. Amelia my soul's idol you are the only one on 
 earth" 
 
 " Will you leave me !" 
 
 " Yes ; when I have laid bare my heart." . 
 
STANLEY THORN. 295 
 
 " Already I perceive it I perceive that it swells with baseness." 
 
 " No upon my honour !" 
 
 " Honour ! honour and treachery cannot co-exist ; therefore leave 
 me !" 
 
 " Nay listen to me but for a moment. What have you to fear ?" 
 
 " Nothing ! strong in the affection of him whom you have basely 
 defamed, and deriving additional strength from a due appreciation of 
 my own honour, I have nothing to fear, but I will not, in silence, 
 tolerate an insult." 
 
 " My dear soul, again let me beg of you to believe that I would not 
 insult you for the world." 
 
 " Again let me remind you that I have been insulted. I will not, 
 therefore, hear another syllable. So thoroughly disgusted am I with 
 your conduct, that unless you leave instantly, I will cause you to be 
 so far degraded as to be forced by my servants from the house. 
 I now ring the bell again." she added, suiting the action to the word. 
 " It is therefore for you to decide." 
 
 " Is Robert below ?" she inquired when the servant had made his 
 appearance. 
 
 " He is, ma'am." 
 
 " Desire him to come up. You perceive," she continued addressing 
 Sir William, " that lam resolved.'' 
 
 " My dear soul, the servants could never force me from the house ; 
 were they to make the attempt, I should convert them into foot-balls 
 for sport ; but having too much respect for you, to cause any distur- 
 bance, I will, as you wish it, at once take my leave ; but in the perfect 
 conviction that before many hours have passed, you will have ample 
 reason to believe that all I have stated with reference to him, by 
 whom you are thus heartlessly neglected, is true." 
 
 " Robert," said Amelia, as Bob at this moment entered, " show Sir 
 William out." 
 
 Bob bowed, and looked precisely as if a slight explanation would 
 have been very agreeable, for he did not pretend to understand it. 
 Collecting his faculties, however, he vanished, and Sir William, having 
 offered his hand to Amelia, by whom it was proudly rejected, slowly 
 followed him to the door. 
 
 " Well," thought Bob, having performed the great duty thus imposed 
 with appropriate grace, " of all I ever heard of since Great Britain 
 was a little un, this breaks the bank. It's a regular queer go. Why 
 should I have been appointed ? It isn't as if he wished to make me a 
 present, because he didn't ! nor is it as if he wanted to do me the 
 honour to make me believe that he liked me to let him out better than 
 any one else, because he looked blessed cross ! I'd give a little trifle to 
 get at the bottom of it : something's a fluctuating, safe ! It's so 
 mysterious ! But mysteries is queer, any day in the week." 
 
 Although the firmness of Amelia never forsook her for an instant, 
 while in the presence of Sir William, although her eyes flashed indig- 
 nantly as she repulsed him, while her lip curled with withering 
 contempt ; the very moment he had left her she burst into tears. 
 
 "Stanley !" she convulsively exclaimed. " Dear Stanley ! why do 
 you not return to me ! why by your absence thus seem to confirm 
 
29() STANLEY 
 
 the suspicions awakened by that vile man ! AY here are you, Stanley ? 
 Can it be- No ! I'll not believe it !" 
 
 Tortured by apprehensions which could not be calmed racked by 
 the recollection of those dreadful intimations upon which she could 
 not for one moment cease to dwell ; she paced the room in a state of 
 mind bordering on distraction until midnight, when in piercing tones 
 she fervently ejaculated : " God ! grant me patience !" 
 
 The agony, the excruciating agony, she endured between midnight 
 and dawn may be conceived. Every hour teemed with fresh appre- 
 sions, every hour was fraught with additional confirmation of those 
 suspicions which she zealously laboured to banish from her mind. 
 Nor when the time, which after a weary lonely night usually brings 
 with it some consolation, had arrived, when the glorious sun had 
 mounted and shedding his lustre upon the earth, seemed designed by 
 a benificent God to inspire every creature with happiness was she 
 less sad : indeed, as the day advanced her anguish increased, for she 
 knew not what to think, nor how to act. She had, on a former 
 occasion, sent round to his friends and had thereby incurred his dis- 
 pleasure ; she therefore dared not send to them in this instance, nor 
 did she feel, judging from what she had heard, that inquiries among; 
 his friends would be otherwise than useless. She could therefore do 
 nothing but sigh, and sob, and weep, and pray for patience. 
 
 Sir William, whose vanity the repulse he experienced the previous 
 evening had seriously wounded, conceiving that the spirit of Amelia 
 would be subdued by the continued absence of Stanley, resolved 
 about noon to renew the attack. He therefore returned to the charge 
 with this infamous object in view, and feeliug persuaded that unless 
 he had recourse to a ruse of some sort, Amelia would not see him, he 
 sent up his card, with an intimation that he had a message from 
 Stanley which he was anxious to deliver without delay. 
 
 The first impulse of Amelia on receiving this card was to cause her- 
 self at once to be denied ; but, on reflection, being naturally anxious 
 to hear in any shape from Stanley, she directed the servant to show r 
 him up. 
 
 "With apparent humility and penitence, the miscreant thereupon 
 entered, while Amelia stood firmly and proudly, although impatient to 
 receive the communication he had to make. 
 
 " My dear madam," said lie, bowing profoundly, " I have to offer 
 ten thousand apologies for my conduct last evening, which may have 
 appeared " 
 
 " Sir," interrupted Amelia, " I require no apology. You have, I 
 am informed, a message from my husband." 
 
 " I have ; but before I deliver that message I must beg of you to 
 pardon those ardent expressions which may have appeared prima facie 
 unwarrantable if not indelicate, but which, let me assure you, were 
 prompted by that inextinguishable affection with which your surpas- 
 sing amiability and beauty have inspired my soul, arid which nothing 
 on earth, not even your scorn, intolerable as it is " 
 
 " I presume," said Amelia with dignified firmness, " that your 
 object in obtaining this interview with me, is that which YOU 
 announced," 
 
Y Til O US. 297 
 
 tc It is. But why treat with this cruel coolness one who has your 
 happiness so Dearly at heart : one whose every hope is centred in 
 your smile, and whose highest aspirations " 
 
 " If, sir, your object be that which I have been led to assume, it is " 
 
 " Nay, why so relentlc-ss? why so impatient?" 
 
 "Have you a communication from ray husband, of have you not?" 
 
 *' Beautiful Amelia ! On my knee, while worshipping the idol of my 
 soul, I implore you " 
 
 " Albert !" exclaimed Amelia, rushing towards her brother, who at 
 this moment entered the room. 
 
 "Hallo! I say! well? what's the row?" cried Albert, as Amelia 
 clung to him convulsively. " Anything broke? That's a pretty 
 position for a man to be diskivered in ! But, Meley, you don't mean to 
 say you've been insulted r" 
 
 " Grossly, Albert, grossly." 
 
 " You have !" exclaimed Albert, leading her to a couch. " Well, 
 I say, old boy !" he added, turning to Sir "VVilLam. " What do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 " What is it to you ?" cried Sir William indignantly. 
 
 "What is it to me? Oh! that's it, is it? Ah; well, I'll soon 
 explain to you what it is to me. Do you ever do anything in this way, 
 old fellow?" he added, striking him fairly to the ground. " I say 
 Meley, my girl, who is this snob ?" 
 
 " Your card, sir, your card !" demanded Sir William. " I shall not 
 make a blackguard of myself, but [ insist upon having your card !" 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself, old fellow, to insist ! I'll leave it exactly 
 between the eyes ;" and planting a tremendous blow in that precise 
 spot, he added, " now you'll not forget the addres?." 
 
 " Who are you ?" cried Sir William, bleeding profusely as he rose. 
 
 " Now where's your handkerchief ? Don't spoil the carpet !" 
 
 "Who are you, sir?" 
 
 " Snooks !" 
 
 " I insist upon knowing who you are !" 
 
 " Timothy Snooks, Esquire, I tell you : number two and a half at 
 the top of the Monument. At home every day, except Sundays. 
 Isn't that sufficiently explicit ? But I say, old girl, where's Stanley?" 
 
 "I don't know, Albert dear; he knows, but he will not 
 tell me." 
 
 " I say, old fellow, I'll bet you ten to one. that if Stanley were here 
 you wouldn't have an eye to look out of! Where is he ? I'll give you 
 my card at least I'll chalk my address upon the crown of your hat, 
 and bet you fifty pounds to sixpence that I'll lick you to a mummy if 
 you'll tell me now where Stanh-y is !" 
 
 " Your card, sir, is all t hat I require." 
 
 Is that all ?" said Albert, ringing the bell. " Well, let's have 
 your hat. I should like to give you every possible chance, because 
 you sport a respectable pair of raoustachios. I say you Jem," he 
 added co"lly, when the servant appeared, " send Bob up with this 
 fellow's hat. But, Meley, what's the matter ? You look very pale ! 
 Where the devil is Stanley ?" 
 
 " I'd give the world to kno-A," returned Amelia. 
 38 
 
298 3TANLEI THOETC. 
 
 " Now then," said Albert as Bob entered, " have you got the 
 fellow's hat ?" 
 
 " I've got Sir William's hat, sir," replied Bob. 
 
 " Sir William's! what, this fellow's?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then get us a bit of chalk." 
 
 Bob, ever prepared to enter into the spirit of a scene of the kind t 
 darted off for the chalk ; and while Sir William was endeavouring to 
 staunch the blood, which still streamed from his nostrils, Albert led 
 Amelia from the room, and assured her that phlebotomy, as a means 
 of subduing the passions, was the finest thing in life. 
 
 " Now then," said he on returning to the room, just as Bob re- 
 appeared, " have you got that chalk, Bob ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; but here's a bit of whitening." 
 
 " That will do. Write my address upon the crown of that hat." 
 
 " Touch it," cried Sir William, " and I'll strike you to the earth !" 
 
 " I can do it, sir, very respectable !" said Bob, as he commenced 
 operations. " I went to the very first national school in nature." 
 
 Sir William rushed at him furiously, and in an instant Bob 
 measured his length on the floor. 
 
 " Now I tell you what it is, Bob," said Albert, " if you don't thresh 
 this fellow, I shall never have a decent opinion of you again." 
 
 " Oh, I'll have a turn with him," said Bob, " because he ain't no 
 gentleman which strikes another gentleman unawares." 
 
 " Keep off!" cried Sir William. " It is you," he added, turning to 
 Albert, " you, sir, with whom I have to deal." 
 
 " Oh, very well ; let Bob and you decide this little affair, and then 
 you and I can come to some settlement." 
 
 "Who are you, sir?" 
 
 Snooks !" 
 
 " Who is this person?" cried Sir William, addressing Bob. 
 
 "Am I to tell, sir?" 
 
 " Of course," 
 
 " Mr. Albert, sir, misseses brother." 
 
 " Here is my card." 
 
 " Oh, if that's what you mean," said Albert, " here, old fellow, I'll 
 accommodate you in any way ; here you are now then here's mine. 
 But I say, Bob, are you going to let him off so?" 
 
 " Why you see sir, although I don't like to be hit for nothing, Sir 
 William's a particular friend of master's, that's the point. Had it been 
 anybody else, I should have gone in regular, but it don't seem to agree 
 with my digestion to strike a gentleman which master respects." 
 
 " Oh, very well ; now, do you want anything else of me ?" 
 
 " Sir," replied Sir William, " you shall hear from me again !" 
 
 " Well, let it be soon ! But before you go, just let me explain to 
 you, quietly, Sir William, that you are a most degraded coward, a 
 most contemptible poltroon, a treacherous blackguard, and a consum- 
 mate villain !" 
 
 " That's sufficient," cried Sir William, as he left the room in 
 haste. 
 
 "Well, I had an idea," rejoined Albert, "that it would be pretty 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 299 
 
 nearly enough. I shall be here," he added, shouting at the top of the 
 stairs " I shall be here for the next three hours !" 
 
 Sir William heard him distinctly, but made no reply, and wh>en he 
 had left, Albert returned to Amelia, who explained to him in confi- 
 dence all that had happened, and whom he did all in his power to 
 soothe. 
 
 It had been the intention of Sir "William to solicit the forgiveness 
 of Amelia in the event of his being convinced of the impossibility of 
 attaining his object, and to beg of her to keep the affair a secret, 
 having, of course, no desire that it should reach Stanley's ears ; but 
 as he now felt that concealment was entirely out of the question 
 that the thing must, to Stanley, in its worst shape, be known, he 
 resolved to meet it boldly, and at once, and with so much prompti- 
 tude did he act, that in less than an hour after having left the house a 
 note arrived from Colonel Coleraine, in which he called upon Albert 
 to refer him to a friend, with a view to settle the preliminaries of a 
 meeting. 
 
 This somewhat puzzled Albert at first, far, at the moment, he knew 
 not whom to refer to, feeling sure that General Johnson would not 
 take upon himself the responsibility of allowing him to go out. At 
 length, however, it occurred to him that VilJiers, a Cambridge man, 
 who had twice been a principal in an affair of the kind, was then in 
 town : and to him he, therefore, at once referred Colonel Coleraine, 
 and dispatched Bob with a letter, advising him of the fact of his having 
 done so, and explaining the circumstances by which it had been 
 induced. 
 
 Villiers undertook with alacrity to act on the part of Albert, and 
 was soon after waited upon by Colonel Coleraine, when, as everything 
 like an amicable arrangement of the matter was utterly out of the 
 question, a meeting was appointed to take place that evening at 
 Wormwood Scrubs. 
 
 Of this Albert was duly advised, and he prepared himself accord- 
 ingly, but remained with Amelia whom he, of course, kept in 
 ignorance of the affair until Villiera called for him in his cab, and 
 drove him to the place appointed. 
 
 On their arrival they found Sir William already on the ground, and 
 he certainly looked like a man who had been cruelly ill used. He and 
 Albert, however, took no notice of each other, but paced the field with 
 folded arms. 
 
 The seconds consulted. The weapons were examined, and prepared. 
 The ground was measured, and the principals were placed. 
 
 " Now," said Yilliers, " understand, when I drop this handkerchief, 
 fire !" 
 
 Sir William took a cold-blooded aim : he was evidently bent upon 
 mischief, while, as Albert stood, not a muscle moved : he was pale, 
 indeed, and thoughtful, but firm as a rock. 
 
 " Are you ready?" cried Villiers. ''Now! One two three!" 
 
 The signal was given. Both at the same instant fired ! and the 
 next, Sir William fell. 
 
 The surgeons for two had beon engaged rushed at once to the 
 aid of the filling man, and it was evident that the pain he endured was 
 
300 STANLEY THOHK. 
 
 excruciating, for, as he writhed and rolled about the ground, lie 
 groaned dreadfully. 
 
 The wi und was discovered promptly, and examined ; and the result 
 of that examination was, that the patella of the right knee was found 
 to have been shot clean away, and that Sir William had thus been 
 lamed for life. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH AN OLD FBIEND BE-APPEABS. 
 
 STANLEY, who was, of course, quite unconscious of all this, and who 
 had been throughout the day anxiously expecting Sir William in the 
 evening dispatched a messenger with the following note : 
 " DEAR AMELIA, 
 
 " Why do you not either come or send to me ? I am tortured with 
 impatience. Worm well, who has, of course, explained all, has not 
 been near me the whole of the day. Send a note by the bearer. 
 All will soon be well ; but. do not neglect 
 
 " Tour own, 
 
 " STANLEY." 
 
 This note Amelia read again and apain without being able to under- 
 stand what it meant. Certainly Sir William had stated that he knew 
 where Stanley was, but then he had endeavoured to induce the 
 belief that he was in disreputable society, and yet Stanley himself 
 evidently thought it strauge that she had neither gone nor sent to 
 him. 
 
 While dwelling upon these conflicting features of the mystery, and 
 before she had had time to solve any one of them, Albert returned 
 with a smile of triumph, and having kissed her with unusual warmth, 
 for uhich she could not pretend to account the note was placed into 
 his hands. 
 
 " There has been," said he, having read it, " some treachery here." 
 
 " But where is he ?" 
 
 " Oh, that we can soon ascertain from the fellow below. I'll in- 
 quire." 
 
 He did so : and on being informed, sent his card back by the 
 messenger, and desired him to tell Stanley that he would imme- 
 diately be with him. 
 
 " I see how it is," said he on returning to Amelia, " I see through 
 it all. That scoundrel was sent by Stanley yesterday to tell you 
 where he was." 
 
 " Is he safe ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's safe enough ! that's beyond all doubt. He never, I 
 should say, was more safe in his life. He is at present residing in 
 the house of a sheriff's officer." 
 
 Now it is a remarkable fact that on hearing this, Amelia exclaimed 
 
STANLEY THOEN. 301 
 
 " Thank Heaven !" not precisely because the house in which he had 
 been detained was that of a sheriffs officer for under any other 
 circumstances that would have been held to be a dreadful calamity 
 but because she had been led to apprehend that the house at which 
 he had been staying was of a much worse character : so amazingly do 
 all great troubles diminish when they come in lieu of those which we 
 have been led to anticipate, and which are in our view greater. 
 " But," she added, " I hope that it is not of much importance." 
 
 " Oh, no !" replied Albert, " he has been treating with contempt 
 some indignant tailor, who conceiving himself to be an entire man, 
 and therefore having the insolence to imagine that he ought to be 
 attended to, has placed his bill in * my solicitor's hands' as a matter 
 of revenge, or something of that sort. However, I'll go to him, and 
 then I shall hear all about it." 
 
 " Do, Albert, do, dear ; and tell him that indeed I had no idea of 
 where he was. But had I not better go with you ?" 
 
 " No, no ; you remain here and make yourself happy. He'd pre- 
 fer it, I know." 
 
 " You will not be long, dear ?" 
 
 " I'll not. I'll return as soon as possible." 
 
 He then started off, and on reaching the house threw Stanley into 
 a state of the most intense astonishment, by relating to him all that 
 had occurred. He concealed nothing from himthe design upon 
 Amelia's honour, the falsehoods by which the miscreant sought to 
 further that design, the thrashing he received, the duel and its 
 result, were all minutely explained, while Stanley developed a 
 greater variety of passions than were ever perhaps experienced 
 within the same period by any one man. 
 
 His affection for Amelia was, however, in the ascendant. He felt 
 then that he loved her more fondly than ever, and when the first 
 burst of just indignation, inspired by the execrable baseness of Sir 
 William had subsided, he smiled at the idea of her virtue being 
 assailed, and marvelled that the villain should have been so great a 
 fool as to attempt that which he might have been sure was impossible. 
 
 Having sufficiently dwelt upon this, he proceeded to explain to 
 Albert why he was there, and this,* of course, very naturally led to 
 the consideration of the means by which his release might be obtained. 
 
 " Now I'll tell you what it is, old fellow," said Albert, " I'd better 
 go at once to the governor." 
 
 " Not for the world !" exclaimed Stanley. " I would not let him 
 know of it for twenty times the amount." 
 
 " "Well, what do you think then of the old General. He knows 
 a trick or two, it strikes me. Shall I go and tell him ?" 
 
 " No, that will not do ; the rest will know of it immediately." 
 
 " "Well, then, shall I go and explain it to your mother ?" 
 
 ""What could she do in the matter?" 
 
 11 Well, who the devil shall I go and tell ? I must go and tell 
 somebody somebody must know of it something must be done!" 
 
 " "Will you call upon this attorney ?" 
 
 " I tell you what, old fellow ; I'd dig, if I could, right clean 
 through from us to our antipodes to serve you, but I will not call 
 
302 STANLEY TilORtf. 
 
 upon this artful varmint, because I'd bet a million I should only 
 make a mess of it, and thus do you more harm than good. "What 
 could I say to him ?" 
 
 " You could ask him, at all events, what he means to do." 
 
 "So I can ; but just look at the result. I go and I say to him, 
 " Now, old fellow, what do you mean to do in this business ?' His 
 answer will be, ' I mean to keep him in custody, of course, until 
 the amount claimed be paid.' ' But it's a swindle.' * I know 
 nothing about that ; I am employed to get the money, and the 
 money I must have.' ' But we'll bring it to trial.' ' You can't : 
 you have already Buffered judgment to go by default/ * Then I'll 
 tell you what it ia, old fellow, we'll indict the whole gang for 
 conspiracy.' His reply would be 'Do so; but let me strongly 
 recommend you in the first place to find out the men.' J should 
 never be able to get over such a fellow as that. You must send 
 some venerable old swell, one who knows how to manage him. 
 However, as nothing can be done in the matter to-night, let us 
 dream about it. Something will have suggested itself, doubtless, by 
 the time I come down in the morning. You'll be at home when I 
 call, I suppose ?" 
 
 Stanley smiled. 
 
 " Well come, old fellow, give us a glass of wine, and I'll be off." 
 
 Stanley rang the bell, and in due time an attendant appeared. 
 
 " I eay, old boy," said Albert, " give my love to Mrs. Moses " 
 
 " Isaacs/' said Stanley, " Isaacs." 
 
 "Oh/ Isaacs is it? Well, it's all the same. Give my love to 
 Mrs. Isaacs, and tell her to send up a bottle of her most superb 
 port ; tell her to let it be nishe" 
 
 The attendant vanished, and when the wine had been produced 
 Albert took a couple of glasses, pronounced it to be very good of 
 the sort, although the sort was rather queer ; and having promised 
 to be with Stanley very early in the morning, left with a strong 
 recommendation which touched immediately upon the wisdom 
 involved in the act of a man keeping up his spirits. 
 
 On his return to Amelia, Albert explained to her all that he 
 imagined a woman ought, under the circumstances, to know, and 
 which singularly enough was very little : indeed, seeing that it will 
 not take up much space here, it may as well be stated in full : 
 " Well, old girl seen him sends his love and so on right as a 
 rook happy comfortable slap rooms wine everything regular 
 soon be home little mess settled in no time. But," he added, 
 " as I shall sleep here to-night, let's you and I talk about business. 
 In the first place we want some experienced old file just to take 
 this little matter in hand. Question is, who can we get ?" 
 
 "Why I should say," replied Amelia, "that papa would be the 
 mo^t proper person to apply to, and I am quite sure no one would 
 undertake the task with more pleasure." 
 
 " But Stanley won't have it. He wants it to be kept dark at 
 home. Do you think now his mother knows any old boy ?" 
 
 '* I should say so." 
 
 " Does the old girl go to bed early ?" 
 
STANLEY THOBff. 303 
 
 " iN ot very. ' 
 
 " Is she in bed now, think you r 
 
 " Oh ! no." 
 
 " Well, then, we will go and call upon her at once." 
 
 " Would Stanley approve of it ?" 
 
 " Oh, we nms'nt be too squeamish. He has got himself into a 
 mess, and we must now get him out of it. She may know some one 
 who can do the trick at once. Go and put on your things, and I'll 
 send for a coach. You can explain it to her, because you know all 
 about it. I can put in a word or two, you know, here and there." 
 
 Although apprehensive that Stanley would be displeased when he 
 heard of the step they were about to take, Amelia, believing that it 
 ought to be taken, followed Albert's instructions with all possible 
 dispatch, and they started. 
 
 [Finding, on their arrival, that the Widow had not retired, they 
 sent the servant up to announce them, with an intimation that they 
 had just called to ascertain whether they might appear at that most 
 unreasonable hour without a scolding or not. 
 
 Although this was done that the Widow might not be startled, 
 she was startled, nevertheless. 
 
 "Gracious!" she exclaimed, as she met them at the drawing- 
 room door. " What has happened ? Is there anything the matter ?" 
 
 " I knew that our appearance would surprise you," returned 
 Amelia, "but for this you must scold Albert, not me. I have, 
 however, to propose that we leave him here, while we have a little 
 conversation in private." 
 
 " Oh, as you please,'* cried Albert. " You treat me just as you like, 
 and being a patient animal I endure it." 
 
 The ladies then retired, and Amelia proceeded to relate what had 
 occurred, with all possible calmness ; but when the perfidy of Sir 
 William had been duly explained, in addition to Stanley's arrest, the 
 Widow became so bewildered, that she confessed, with great candour, 
 that she really didn't know exactly whether she was at that particular 
 period asleep or awake. 
 
 " Man, man !" she exclaimed. " Man, man ! They are all alike 
 all! But I could not have believed it of him. He never attempted 
 he never hinted he never appeared even to think of such a thing 
 while with me ! But then whom do you know ? whom can you know? 
 Positively, no one ! While I live, dear, I'll never put faith in man 
 again ! But what are we to do for poor Stanley ? We must not allow 
 him to remain where he is. What can be done? How are we to act?" 
 
 " Albert has something to propose," replied Amelia. " Perhaps 
 as you are now in possession of the fact*, we had better return to him." 
 
 " By all means, my love. But who would have thought that Sir 
 William, above all other men in the world, would prove himself to 
 be s^uch a monster ? Well, so much for man I" 
 
 " Albert,'* said Amelia, on their return to the drawing-room, " you 
 have something to suggest." 
 
 " Why, yes," returned Albert. " You see," he added, addressing 
 the widow, " I don't know how to manage this business myself, and 
 as I won't make a mess of it, I won't interfere." 
 
304 STANLEY TIT GITS'. 
 
 " Very correct," observed the widow ; " extremely correct !" 
 
 " Now, I was thinking," pursued Albert, " that as Stanley objects 
 to the interference of the G-overnor, you might know some artful, 
 experienced, old venerable-looking individual, who wouldn't mind 
 taking the matter in hand. Do you know such a one ?" 
 
 "Why let me see," replied the widow, considering. "I do know 
 a gentleman a perfect man of business " 
 
 " The very thing ! just the very fellow we want." 
 
 "But," continued the widow, "I don't see really how I can 
 now with any degree of propriety send to him." 
 
 " Does he know Stanley ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, perfectly. He has known him from childhood." 
 
 " Then he'd do it oh, he'd do it ! Shall I go and see him ? What's 
 his name?" 
 
 " Why his name," replied the widow, *' is Eipstone." And as 
 she pronounced that name she slightly blushed. 
 
 " Eipstone ; ah ! well," said Albert, " I never heard of him ; but 
 where does he live ? I'd better call upon him the first thing in the 
 morning." 
 
 " Why I'm thinking of its propriety ! And yet I don't know 
 Stanley, it is true, might not like it." 
 
 " Ob, he'll not be very particular now. He wants to get out, and 
 somebody must get him out, that's quite clear. Application ought, 
 therefore, to be made to the best man. Do you think he would do it?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure he would, with pleasure." 
 
 " Well, then, why not apply to him at once ?" 
 
 "Well I don't know perhaps it is very ridiculous for me to 
 hesitate. I think that I might." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! do it at once. Let me call ; or you send for him. 
 Write a note now, and I'll take it myself." 
 
 " Do you think that I had better'?" 
 
 " Decidedly ! I'll take care that he has it early enough in the 
 morning." 
 
 The widow, whose pulse was then more than a hundred, hesitated 
 again : but at length, calling upon all the courage at her cominau, 
 she opened her desk, with the view of writing to Eipstone. 
 
 She had, however, scarcely dipped her pen in the ink, when she 
 became impressed deeply with the difficulties which surrounded the 
 task she proposed to perform. How could she address Mr. Eipstone ? 
 In her judgment " Sir" would be much 100 cold " My dear Sir" 
 somewhat too warm ; and while " My dear Friend" would be warmer 
 still, " Mrs. Thorn presents her compliments to Mr. Eipstone" 
 would be, under the circumstances, out of character altogether. 
 
 Perceiving her embarrassment, although quite unconscious of the real 
 cause, Albert, after waiting for some time, suggested that the better 
 plan wouldbe for him to call upon Mr. Eipstone, and to explain to him 
 that she was anxious to have the benefit of his advice, and as this 
 suggestion met the widow's views, for she found it impossible to get 
 on with her pen, she gave Albert the address, with a variety of instruc- 
 tions, when he and Amelia. left her, to collect those faculties of hers 
 which had been so completely upset. 
 
STANLEY THOBN. 305 
 
 Early on the following morning, Albert waited Upon Mr. Eipstone, 
 and that gentleman received him with marked politeness, and 
 assured him that Mrs* Thorn was a iady whom he highly esteemed, 
 and that there was no soul on earth whom it would give him greater 
 pleasure to serve. 
 
 " I supposej Mr. Joliffe," he added, " it's something some- 
 thing " 
 
 " Yes, it is, 5 ' replied Albert. " In fact, I may as well explain it all 
 to you now." 
 
 " If you please,*' said Mr. Kipstone, who knew that it would save 
 him a world of trouble, by rendering the creation of a host of con- 
 jectures unnecessary. " I should be glad if you would." 
 
 Albert did so : he explained, at least, all that had immediate refer- 
 ence to Stanley, and having finished that explanation, Mr, Eipstone 
 accompanied him to the residence of the Widow. 
 
 It is in all probability unnecessary to state, that Mr Eipstone waa 
 expected, and equally unnecessary is ifc, apparently* to explain that 
 as he ivas expected, the widow was somewhat longer than usual at her 
 toilet, and looked, when he arrived, as sweetly as possible. These 
 were facts which all persons who appreciate the blessings of civiliza- 
 tion will readily conceive, and as such is the case;, it will be quite 
 sufficient to state that fascination is a fool of a word to use, when the 
 object is to convey a correct idea of the imposing effect of her general 
 appearance. 
 
 " My dear madam," said Mr. Eipstone, as he entered, and 
 approaching her he pressed her hand with all his wonted warmth, 
 "lam happy, most happy, to see you looking so well." 
 
 The Widow smiled, and bowed in acknowledgment of the compli- 
 ment, which really at the time met the approbation of her own heart, 
 but she felt notwithstanding very tremulous. 
 
 " It is some time," she observed in faltering accents, " since I last 
 had the pleasure " 
 
 " It is," said Mr. Eipstone, with considerable promptitude ; " but 
 we will not, my dear madam, dwell upon that. Mr. Joliffe has ex- 
 plained to me all that has reference to the matter upon which you 
 would have my advice ; and although I cannot sufficiently express to 
 you how highly honoured I feel in having been thus applied to, I 
 would submit, that the best advice I can offer, under the circumstances 
 is, that you will content to leave the management of the whole affair 
 to me." 
 
 " You are a kind, good creature," observed the widow, "I know 
 not how to thank you." 
 
 " Then, my dear madam, don't attempt to do it. With your sanc- 
 tion, I will call upon Stanley at once. I have no doubt that the 
 matter will soon be arranged : at all events, it shall be if I can 
 arrange it." 
 
 " Of that I am sure, my dear friend, very sure ; but I am quite 
 ashamed to give you so much trouble." 
 
 " Believe me," rejoined Mr. Eipstoue, "nothing ever gave me 
 more real pleasure than this opportunity of serving one from whom I 
 have experienced such high consideration." 
 
 39 
 
306 STANLEY TIIOKX. 
 
 The Widow blushed deeply, and felt extremely droll, and when 
 Eipstone had explained that he should do himself the honour of 
 calling, from time to time, in order to report progress, he again 
 pressed her hand, and with an expression of profound respect, left her 
 inspired with some of the oddest feelings that were ever experienced 
 by a lady in either ancient or modern times. 
 
 On his arrival at the lock-up house Stanley was somewhat startled 
 by his appearance, but when his object had been explained, and tlie 
 character of his motives developed, he treated him with all possible 
 courtesy, and conversed with him on the subject in the most friendly 
 spirit ; and that he really appreciated his kindness, was a fact which 
 he did not attempt to conceal. 
 
 Having obtained from Stanley all the information he had the 
 power to impart, "Ripstone set to work, and by virtue of indefatigable 
 zeal, he, with the aid of his solicitor, who was also one of his oldest 
 and most esteemed friends, succeeded, in three days from that 
 time, in buying up the whole of the bills, and thus setting Stanley 
 free ! 
 
 From that auspicious period, Mr. Eipstone became a great 
 favourite of Stanley's, and while .Amelia held him in high respect, he 
 was securely reinstated in the Widow's ardent heart. He dined with 
 her constantly ; indeed, scarcely a day passed on which she was not 
 visited by Mr. Eipstone. 
 
 And thus things went on for a month, during which the Widow 
 frequently felt indeed she could not but feel that ha might as well 
 come to the point at once ; but although he had perfectly made up 
 his mind, although lie had ^gain and again resolved to take, without 
 any further delay, the contemplated step, he had never been able to 
 screw his courage sufficiently up. 
 
 One evening, however, this tiresome month having expired- 
 when he and the Widow had been sitting for some time in silence, he 
 gave a most resolute sigh. 
 
 " Well," thought the Widow, whose heart that sigh fluttered, " it's 
 coming at last." She spoke not, however, nor, had she not felt it 
 to be a duty incumbent upon her to echo that sigh as a matter of 
 strict justice to herself, would she have broken the silence by which 
 it was succeeded for worlds. 
 
 A pause ensued a long, a painful, a most provoking pause 
 during which Eipsto.ne zealously twirled his bunch of seals at the rate 
 of three thousand turns per minute, while the Widow was apparently 
 lost in admiration of the pattern of the lace with which her handker- 
 chief was bordered. 
 
 At length Eipstone spoke, and as he did so, the Widow's suscep- 
 tible heart put on the steam, and its action, was, in consequence, 
 indicative of the highest possible pressure. 
 
 " I recollect, my dear madam," said he, " that when I was com- 
 paratively poor," and here it will be highly correct to state, that 
 since that period an extremely ancient uncle of his had departed this 
 life and left him the whole of his wealth " I recollect that a certain 
 lady whom I held, and still hold in high esteem, on one occasion 
 solicited my advice on a certain delicate subject." 
 
STANLEY TITOEff. 307 
 
 " I see, I see," thought the Widow, " I see." Aud she prayed that 
 Hipstone might not break down. 
 
 " Now," pursued Mr. Ripstone, deliberately weighing every word, 
 and dwelling upon its important and probable effect. " Now, as that 
 lady that is to say as the question I mean the subject or rather 
 tbe advice which that lady solicited was somewhat at least she con- 
 sidered it to be somewhat delicate, do you think I merely put it 
 to you, whether you thiuk that I could without any impropriety, 
 solicit the advice of that lady on a subject, perhaps, equally delicate !" 
 
 The Widow looked archly, and smiled, conceiving that her playful- 
 ness might inspire him with a little more courage ; but Ripstone, 
 whose countenance then was as rigidly solemn as before, added, 
 " What do you think ?" 
 
 " Why," replied the Widow, "the question is one which appears 
 to be surrounded by difficulties ; still 1 do seriously think that you 
 might 1" 
 
 " Well now, do you know, the same thing has struck rne two or 
 ihreo times, of late, and as your views and mine upon that point coin- 
 cide, I think I will !*' 
 
 " Oh, I would by all means ! There cannot be any impropriety in 
 it." 
 
 " Then of course, you understand I mean, you guess the sub- 
 ject upon which " 
 
 " Nay, how is that possible ?" 
 
 The expressive countenance of Mr. Ripstone was screwed into one 
 of the most fascinating smiles ever beheld, as he observed in winning 
 acceuta; " it strikes me you do." 
 
 " How is it how can it be possible ? You have not explained." 
 
 " Do you really require any additional explanation ?" 
 
 " What a very droll creature you are !" observed the Widow ; and 
 as she made that remarkable observation, she smiled with so much 
 sweetness, and looked with so much archness, while her brilliant eyes 
 beaming in liquid delight, shone with such sparkling lustre, that she 
 absolutely dazzled Ripstone's faculties to an extent which rendered 
 them perfectly chaotic. " When," she added, conceiving it to be 
 highly inexpedient to suffer any mortal confusion to induce irresolu- 
 tion and consequent delay, " when I ventured to express an opinion 
 that there could not be any impropriety in adopting the course you 
 propose, I did so in the perfect conviction that you could propose to 
 adopt no course in which there was the slightest impropriety." 
 
 " You are polite enough to say so," observed Mr. Ripstone, who 
 felt a little better ; " but I nevertheless do want a little advice." 
 
 " What da you mean, you funny man ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you," cried Ripstone with desperate nerve, for he felt that 
 unless it were forced out, it would not come out at al! " I'll tell you 
 at once : I want to marry ; I want to marry a lady a certain lady. 
 Very well. Now I want to know how I'm to go to work." 
 
 " Well it may appear presumptuous in me, certainly but I 
 think that 1 might give you a little advice upon that point ! Do I 
 know the lady ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Ripstone, chuckling at the idea of that state o 
 
308 STANLEY THOBK. 
 
 astonishment into which he conceived the Widow was about to toe 
 thrown, " you know her perfectly ! no one, in fact, can pretend to 
 know her better than you. 
 
 " Oh, well, then the difficulty will not be great. Has she any 
 idea of your intentions ?" 
 
 " I think she has," replied Eipstone, smiling with singular signi- 
 ficance, " I think so : at all events it strikes me she has." 
 
 " Well then, all you have to do is but you know much better 
 than I can /" 
 
 " No, no : upon my honour : I have had no experience in that 
 matter : you have." 
 
 " Well, I can only say what I should do if I were in your situa- 
 tion." 
 
 " Exactly ; yes that's the very point." 
 
 " Well, I'd go to her and say at once something to this effect : *I 
 have been thinking that marriage, being a state from which springs 
 every species of social fecility is one into which those, by whom 
 social felicity is appreciated, ought to enter : I have also been 
 thinking that as you and I have known each other long enough to 
 know that our views and feelings upon every point of importance 
 coincide if we were to marry our happiness would be increased ; so 
 certain am I that, even taking but a common-sense view of the 
 matter, we should be one of the most comfortable couples in exist- 
 ence.' " 
 
 " Well, my dear madam ? and then ?" 
 
 " Why then you would have but to say, ' What do you think ?' OP 
 in order to bring the thing at once to the point, * In a word, will you 
 have me ?' " 
 
 " Very good and then her answer ?" 
 
 " Oh, I cannot tell what that would be." 
 
 " Can you not tell what your answer would be ? w 
 
 " Mine I Under the same circumstances ?" 
 
 " Precisely. Conceive that all you advised me to say to her I have 
 said to you ; for you are the lady ! the only one on earth whom I 
 would thus address. Now, what would be your answer ? Nay what 
 is your answer ? Will you have me ?" 
 
 The Widow blushed that she felt herself bound to do of course 
 and was silent ; but Eipstone, as she prudently fixed her eyes upon 
 the carpet, seized her unresisting hand, and having kissed it very 
 correctly pressed it to his heart, exclaiming, " Yes ! I will answer 
 for you Yes ! You will be mine." 
 
 " You are a kind, good creature," said the Widow, having suffi- 
 ciently paused, " one whom I would not for the world deceive." 
 
 " Of that I am convinced : I know that you would not !" 
 
 " My dear good friend, I feel it to be my duty then to state to you 
 that in a pecuniary point of view, I am unfortunately not in the 
 game position as that in which I once stood." 
 
 " I know it : I know in fact more on that subject than you 
 imagine; but what of that? I have sufficient; much more than 
 sufficient to enable us to live in the style to which you have been 
 accustomed : therefore let us not say another word about that. Tht ra 
 
STANLEY THOEW. 309 
 
 is, by the by, in connection with this subject, one favour I have to 
 ask in fact, one stipulation I have to make ; it is this, that the whole 
 of the property you now possess, be settled at once upon Stanley." 
 
 " Kind, generous, good soul !" exclaimed the Widow. 
 
 " Then to this you consent?" 
 
 " With feelings of mingled gratitude and esteem to which I can- 
 not give expression," replied the Widow, and the tears sprang from 
 her eyes, as she reflected upon Bipstone's consideration for Stanley 
 " I do." 
 
 The compact was then, in the usual manner, sealed indeed, they 
 sealed it in the usual manner many times in the course of that truly 
 happy evening and so fully did they enter into each other's views, 
 and so perfect was the understanding which existed between them, 
 that within a week everything having been arranged to the entire 
 satisfaction of all concerned, including Stanley they stood at the 
 altar, and with feelings of joy in the cheering presence of their most 
 highly valued friends were united. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIX. 
 
 BEINGS THIS HISTOET TO A CLOSE. 
 
 BY virtue of a little finessing on the part of Mr. Eipstone, who 
 privately assigned more stock than his lady at the period of their 
 marriage possessed, Stanley's income was raised to a thousand a 
 year ; and having by this time purchased sufficient experience not 
 only to guard him against the designs of dashing knaves, but to 
 inspire him with an utter contempt for those fashionable follies, in 
 which there is neither manliness, justice, nor reason, he resolved to 
 enjoy those substantial delights of which honour and love are the 
 germs. 
 
 Had he previously to his marriage seen more of what is denomi- 
 nated " life ;" had he entered into the senseless frivolities of that 
 " life" for which the appetite soon palls and which, in reflecting 
 minds, soon create disgust before he undertook the duties of a hus- 
 band, his heart, which was of a manly generous caste, would never 
 have permitted him to treat with neglect one so amiable, ao gentle, 
 as Amelia. He now, however, saw that neglect although it pro- 
 ceeded in his case solely from thoughtlessness and irresolution wa 
 unmanly, if not indeed brutal; and having proved what a god a man 
 is in the judgment of a patient affectionate wife, he became one of the 
 most attentive and considerate husbands that ever charmed a gentle 
 spirit with joy. Then, indeed, did Amelia deem herself blessed. His 
 whole soul seemed centred in her. He appreciated fully her innu- 
 merable virtues, and that appreciation alone was the source of pure 
 happiness to both. 
 
310 STANLEY TI10RK. 
 
 Sir William he never again met by any accident : indeed, since his 
 affair with Albert, the old associates of that honourable person had 
 spurned him^; not in consequence of that affair, nor of the villany 
 which induced it ; but because, a dissolution of Parliament having 
 occurred at that period, he lost his seat, to which he was not re- 
 elected, when his creditors pounced upon and forced him into the 
 Bench, within the rules of which he lived and died, rather than give 
 up the miserable wreck of his fortune. 
 
 Nor did Stanley ever again meet with " Captain" Filcher; but a 
 circumstance occurred about twelve months after the bills became 
 due, which put him in possession of certain facts having reference 
 to that gallant gentleman, and which it will be therefore correct to 
 explain. 
 
 Passing on that occasion with Stanley through Burlington Arcade, 
 Amelia stopped at one of the windows to admire a box of extremely 
 delicate French gloves, and, being desirous of making a purchase, 
 she entered the shop, which was well-stocked and fitted up with 
 infinite taste. The very moment, however, she had entered with 
 Stanley, the young person in attendance sighed deeply and almost 
 fainted. 
 
 " My precious !" exclaimed a more elderly person, rushing forward 
 at the moment, " My precious !" and turning round she a'most 
 fainted too, as Stanley recognised in them the " Countess" and her 
 mamma. 
 
 Of course Amelia thought this rather strange, and looked some- 
 what seriously at Stanley. 
 
 " Do you know these persons ?" she inquired. 
 
 Stanley, who had previously related the whole of the circumstances 
 privately, explained who they were, when turning to Mrs. Gills, he 
 observed that he was happy to see them in a position of so much 
 comfort. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Thorn !" cried that lady : " my poor deluded daughter !" 
 she added, as the tears gushed from her eyes. " You know, sir, how 
 she was deluded." 
 
 " I do," replied Stanley ; " but I hope she is now more happy." 
 
 " It was not wickedness on her part This is the only consolation 
 I have. I know, sir, how you were deceived too by that second 
 monster." 
 
 " What has become of him ? where is he now ?" 
 
 " He has his reward, sir : oh, yes ! he has his reward. But if you 
 and your lady would condescend to step this way, sir, I shall be 
 happy to explain all." 
 
 Being anxious to know something about the scoundrel, Stanley at 
 once accepted the invitation, and he and Amelia were led into a neat 
 little room immediately over the shop, when Mrs. GKlls, with due 
 eloquence and spirit, related all that bad occurred since the elope- 
 ment ; of which the substance was, that on her arrival at Calais, 
 Pilcher explained to the " Countess " the real nature of her social 
 position that he promised to marry her himself that he never 
 performed that promise that in three months from the time it was 
 made he deserted her, and that in less than a month after that he 
 
STABLE* 'i'HOBtf. 311 
 
 Was duly apprehended for swindling, and as a conviction followed, 
 he had been in a French prison ever since : tbat on the return of 
 the Countess to England, an application was made to the Earl ; that 
 in consequence of that application having been treated with contempt, 
 an expose was threatened ; and that eventually, in order to avoid that, 
 he consented to pay a certain sum down to enable her to get into 
 business, and to allow her an annuity of fifty pounds for lite. 
 
 Amelia having listened with the utmost attention to the relation 
 of these cir cum stances, which occupied nearly two hours, felt an 
 amiable interest in the welfare of the " Countess," and promised to 
 do all in her power to promote it. This promise she faithfully kept, 
 as well by direct patronage as by recommendation, and in order to 
 give an earnest of her intention, she purchased that morning to the 
 amount of twenty pounds. 
 
 It appeared, however, that during the whole of their difficulties, 
 Mrs. Gills and her daughter had one firm friend, and that friend was 
 Mr. Joseph Goggles ; and as it may be in all probability remembered 
 that during the progress of this history, that venerable gentleman 
 <{ Venerable Joe " has been alluded to before, it will not, perhaps, 
 to some, be uninteresting to state that he faithfully married the 
 gentle Joannathat she wore what he termed the " oh-no-we-never- 
 mentionables " strictly that she naturally considered them to be an 
 excellent fit, and very comfortable things too she found them that 
 he went to smoke his pipe every evening at the sign of the " Cat 
 and Constitution " a house kept by his valued friend Bob, to whom 
 Stanley lent nominally, but actually gave, a sufficient sum of money 
 to take it ; and that the venerable gentleman was the oracle of the 
 parlour, the frequenters of which were at all times delighted with 
 his profoundly philosophical dissertations. 
 
 And as to Bob ! Bob was a great man ! For independently of 
 the profits which the retail business of the Cat and Constitution 
 daily yielded, he derived an immense emolument from the fact of 
 his being Stanley's " right hand," his Master of the Horse, and 
 Purveyor General of "Wines and Spirits, not only to him, but to the 
 whole of his family and connections. 
 
 For some considerable time, however, after this, Bob remained 
 single, for having made up his mind not to marry until he met with 
 the counterpart of Amelia, whom he had always much admired, he 
 could not so soon, as many might have expected, see one in his 
 sphere possessing those points of resemblance which he deemed 
 essential ; but as at length, a favourite niece of his venerable friend 
 arrived in town, a mild, quiet, amiable girl, one indeed who met his 
 views to a shade, the consequence was that they soon became 
 enamoured of each other, and having married, they were exceedingly 
 affectionate and 'happy, and had in due time a very fair family of 
 children. 
 
 But in the height of his prosperity, and he certainly was very 
 prosperous, Bob never ceased to look upon Stanley as the best friend 
 he had. There was nothing a man could do that Bob would not 
 with pleasure have done to serve him. Indeed, Stanley was an uni- 
 versal favourite. The General prided himself upon having laid tho 
 
312 STANLEY TIIOBtf. 
 
 first stone of that which he cautiously termed his reformation ; and 
 while the Captain, in common with the whole of his friends, highly 
 admired his character, it scarcely need be added that Amelia was 
 proud of him as a husband, and that the ci-devant Widow, who had 
 settled down with Eipstone to the tranquil enjoyment of life, was 
 beyond all conception proud of him as a son. 
 
 TfiE EKD. 
 
 J. LOFTS, PRINTEB, 262, STBAND, LONDON. 
 

 
Y.CI0287I 
 

 VK - 
 
 V 
 
 H^HHI 
 
 HI