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 OF THE 
 UN IVE.RSITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
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HORACE VERNON; 
 
 Htfe m t^t Wlt^t 
 
 " Were we to take as much pains to be what we ought, as we do to 
 disguise what we are, we might appear like ourselves, without being at 
 the trouble of any disguise at all."— Rochefoucault. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER; 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1838. 
 

 L 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 V.I 
 
 HORACE VERNON, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 No med'cine in the world can do thee good ; 
 
 r*^ In thee, there is not half an hour's life." 
 
 The household of No. — , Portm an- square, 
 had been for several days in a state of anxiety 
 and alarm. The Earl of Charleston, the owner of 
 tliat splendid mansion, after a few days'* illness, 
 was at this moment lying without hope of 
 recovery ; and, strange to say of one of such 
 distinguished rank, and possessed of such a 
 fortune, no relative or friend was near him to 
 close his eyes. He was the last of his family 
 in the direct line, and the heir to his title was 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 on a mission to a foreign court. There had 
 been no congeniality in their pursuits, and con- 
 sequently but little intimacy had ever subsisted 
 between them. 
 
 It is a fearful time — the death-bed close of 
 an ill-spent life. It is then, indeed, that the 
 conscience is a faithful monitor. Those acts 
 which circumstance or necessity may have pal- 
 liated in life, at that hour are divested of their 
 sophistry, and appal by the hideousness of their 
 deformity. The world can no longer plead its 
 ready and wonted pretexts ; — on the threshold 
 of eternity, we view things differently; — justice 
 will then assert her stern, unflinching preroga- 
 tive: — and thus it was with the dying noble- 
 man. 
 
 The Earl of Charleston was a widower. He 
 had been twice married, but remained child- 
 less. In his last marriage he had been pecu- 
 liarly unfortunate, and had sought indemnity, 
 in dissipation, for the total absence of enjoyment 
 in his domestic life. He had been a leading 
 
HORACE VERNON. 3 
 
 man on the turf, and had acquired the reputation 
 of being thoroughly versed in all the intricacies 
 of play. In many instances, indeed, his name 
 had been implicated in transactions of rather 
 an equivocal character : — but that might have 
 been scandal. Female society, in his own rank 
 of life, he invariably shunned ; but bright eyes 
 were not wanting to enliven his nightly ca- 
 rousals — bright eyes, that w^anted but the 
 charm of innocence to make them beautiful. 
 But, to such scenes that charm would have 
 been an unfitting accompaniment ; for Lord 
 Charleston and his friends had long laughed 
 to scorn all idle panegyrics on female worth or 
 virtue. True epicureans were they, — at least 
 in one sense; — they sought but the happiness 
 of the hour, and lived but for the enjoyment of 
 the senses. 
 
 But now that the world and its scenes were 
 fast closing upon the man of pleasure, the cer- 
 tain and bitter hour of repentance arrived. 
 Yet, how short a space now remained for 
 b2 
 
4 HORACE VERNOX. 
 
 atonement, when a lifetime would scarcely have 
 sufficed to close such an account as his ! 
 
 " Has she not yet arrived ?" inquired the 
 earl, in a faint, but earnest tone, of his valet, 
 Gibson, who had at that moment glided noise- 
 lessly across the well-carpeted room, to his 
 master's side. 
 
 " Not yet, my lord,""* replied the man ; "but 
 she cannot now be long, for the messenger was 
 dispatched several hours ago." 
 
 " Heartless !" ejaculated the dying man, as 
 he turned his head restlessly upon his pillow. 
 After a short pause he again made a hurried, 
 impatient sign, and Gibson was again at his 
 side. 
 
 " Was your note sufficiently explicit ? — did 
 you inform her of my situation ?''"' asked the 
 earl. 
 
 " I said what I thought would bring her 
 here on the instant,"" returned Gibson ; " though 
 I trust your lordship's case is not so dangerous 
 as you apprehend."' 
 
HORACE VERNON. O 
 
 A deep sigh escaped the earl. " You little 
 know her," he said, " if you think that kind 
 or compassionate feeling would bring her 
 hither; no— no; — something should have been 
 said touching her interest, and we should not 
 have waited." 
 
 " My lord. Dr. Jamieson forbade your talk- 
 ing," whispered the valet; *'he said perfect 
 quietness might do much." 
 
 " Nothing can avail me," answered the 
 nobleman ; " at least, while this duty remains 
 undischarged. If she come not soon, send 
 again, and more earnestly ; and hint something 
 which may attract her speedily; for I cannot 
 endure this suspense." The valet closed the 
 curtain, and left the room, to send another 
 messenger. 
 
 Meantime, nothing broke the silence of the 
 apartment, but the low, monotonous hum of 
 the world without, the ticking of the French 
 clock, and the scratching of a pen upon parch- 
 ment. This latter sound proceeded from the 
 
6 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 exertions of a person who, seated at a table by 
 the fireside, was busily occupied in drawing a 
 deed of conveyance. A large French lamp 
 lighted him, and threw its glare directly upon 
 his occupation, but was covered by a dark 
 shade, to prevent the light from reaching the 
 invalid. The person thus employed was a man 
 of about the middle age. He was dressed very 
 scrupulously in black, and his countenance was 
 partly concealed by a large green shade over his 
 forehead ; whilst his eyes were entirely covered 
 by a pair of huge green spectacles, which were 
 further protected by side-glasses. 
 
 The deed was finished, and perused carefully 
 by the individual in question, who then desisted 
 from his work, and looking warily around, re- 
 clined in the large arm-chair in which he was 
 seated ; but the movement was effected with 
 an air of caution which seemed habitual to 
 him. He then slowly withdrew the shade 
 from his forehead, and casting another stealthy 
 glance around, perhaps more from habit than 
 
HORACE VERNON. 7 
 
 fear of observation, he turned his spectacles 
 back upon his head, and passed his hand across 
 his eyes, as though to relieve them from the 
 weight of the penthouse under which they had 
 been placed. 
 
 Did the singular caution attending this 
 simple act of revealing his features, arise from 
 some secret personal motive, or from regard 
 to the feelings of others ? If from the latter, he 
 certainly possessed greater amiability than the 
 expression of such features conveyed ; if from a 
 sensitive consciousness of the churlishness of na- 
 ture in her treatment of him, he was prudent ; 
 for, however correct his principles might be, 
 they were certainly belied by that pair of small, 
 deep-set, unquiet, light gray eyes, that peered 
 from beneath an overhanging brow, with as 
 sinister an expression as ever man was cursed 
 with. His countenance was thin and wan, and 
 his hair black and straight. 
 
 A feverish movement of the earl, which 
 slightly agitated the closely-drawn curtains of 
 
8 HORACE VERNOX. 
 
 the bed, acted like a talisman upon him. In an 
 instant the spectacles again concealed his eyes, 
 and the green shade was over his forehead, as 
 though the sight of the sick nobleman could 
 penetrate the thick silk drapery between them. 
 
 " Is Gibson in the room ?" inquired the earl, 
 faintly. 
 
 "No, my lord," said the person, "but I 
 will summon him instantly." The tone of voice 
 in which these few words were pronounced 
 was singularly soft and pleasing. Nature, in 
 bestowing such an organ, could hardly be said 
 to have entirely neglected the owner of it. 
 
 " Have you finished the deed, Robinson ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord," answered he ; " exactly 
 according to your lordship's instructions." 
 
 " And you are quite sure the estate is as 
 safely conveyed as though it were mentioned 
 in my will .^" 
 
 " Even more secure, if possible, my lord," 
 returned the drawer of the deed ; " for this 
 instrument, together with your lordship's letter 
 
HORACE VERNON. \) 
 
 to the tenant, will ensure me the possession in 
 trust, to-morrow, if I claim it." 
 
 " Robinson/' said the earl, solemnly, " I 
 believe you to be an honest man." 
 
 " Indeed, my lord, I have done my best to 
 deserve your confidence," returned Robinson. 
 
 " You certainly have ; and I can have small 
 reason to doubt you, for your introduction to 
 me was an act of most disinterested honesty."''' 
 
 " Oh, my lord,"" said Mr. Robinson, humbly, 
 '' do not mention so trifling a service. I acted 
 only as my conscience dictated, when I informed 
 your lordship of the plot against you ; and if I 
 lost my situation, I have been placed by your 
 lordship's kindness in a higher position in my 
 profession than I ever aspired to. But, I pray 
 you, my lord, do not speak further, for you 
 have already over-exerted yourself." At this 
 moment Gibson entered, and approached his 
 master's bed-side. 
 
 " Not yet arrived, I suppose," said the earl, 
 despondingly. 
 
 b3 
 
10 HORACE VEENON. 
 
 " Not yet, my lord," replied the valet ; 
 " but I sent Knox with such a letter as can- 
 not fail to bring her speedily." And, as he 
 spoke, he poured out a draught, and handed it 
 to the patient. The earl was so reduced that 
 it was with difficulty he could hold the glass. 
 At the same moment, the nurse opened the 
 door, and beckoning to Gibson, whispered some- 
 thing in his ear, and withdrew. 
 
 " My lord," said the valet, " the nurse tells 
 me that a coach has just drawn up." At this 
 intimation the earl's hand shook so violently, 
 that the glass, with its contents, would have 
 fallen, had not Gibson secured it. 
 
 " Let her come up immediately," said the 
 agitated invalid ; " this will be something off 
 my mind." 
 
 " Had you not better compose yourself, my 
 lord .?" said the valet. '• If the lady has ar- 
 rived, perhaps — " 
 
 " No, — no," interrupted the earl, " I can 
 see her — lose not a moment. I cannot afford to 
 
HORACE VERXOX. 11 
 
 waste time when I have so much to do." With 
 the assistance of Gibson, the earl swallowed the 
 draught, and the valet then withdrew, to in- 
 quire about the arrival, which appeared to in- 
 terest his master in no ordinary degree. 
 
 A few minutes had scarcely elapsed, when 
 Gibson returned, introducing this long-expected 
 visitor. She was a lady rather tall of stature, 
 and of large proportions ; but, being closely 
 enveloped in an ample black satin cloak, her 
 size might, perhaps, have been deceptive. She 
 wore a velvet bonnet of some dark colour, or- 
 namented with feathers. She was handsome; 
 but her beauty was of too bold and masculine a 
 kind to be pleasing. Her age might, perhaps, 
 be about four-and-twenty. She passed the foot 
 of the bed, and seeing Robinson, who was then 
 again busily employed in looking over the deed, 
 gave him a slight and hasty mark of recogni- 
 tion, which the latter returned with the most 
 obsequious humility. She then approached that 
 side of the bed on which Gibson had left the 
 
12 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 curtain undrawn; but so noiselessly, that the 
 earl was not aware she was so near. 
 
 " Mrs. Miltoune, my lord," said Gibson, in 
 a half-whisper. 
 
 The earl did not turn his head ; but slowly, 
 and as if with difficulty, stretched forth his 
 hand to welcome her. She gently took it 
 between her own, and seated herself by the 
 bedside. Some little time elapsed before a 
 word was spoken. Perhaps Mrs. Miltoune's 
 feelings were excited by the gloomy scene to 
 which she had been introduced ; but she did 
 not attempt to speak; she evidently awaited the 
 earl's communication. 
 
 " Eliza, I thought I should have seen you 
 before this," — said the earl, at length, but 
 slowly, and with difficulty. 
 
 " My dear lord," she replied, " how could 
 1 have supposed that }'ou were so ill — so very 
 ill as you appear to be .'^" 
 
 " Did not the note I sent sufficiently indi- 
 cate—"" 
 
HORACE VERNOK. 13 
 
 " I was not aware of your real state," she 
 said hastily, " or, although I was most parti- 
 cularly engaged, I am sure I would — " 
 
 " I can understand you," interrupted the 
 earl; "you would have come on the instant, 
 had my first message been like my second." 
 
 '• My lord, you are unjust to me," said the 
 lady, with something like pique. 
 
 " Under any circumstances, a sick man's 
 wishes should have been respected. But no 
 matter ; I have sent for you — perhaps for the 
 last time." 
 
 '* Do not say so, Charleston. I hope to meet 
 you again, and often." 
 
 "It is a vain hope ; I feel myself sinking 
 fast. And now tell me, how is my child .^" 
 
 " She is well," replied Mrs. Miltoune. 
 
 " And where is she placed .?" 
 
 " She is with a person in whom I have entire 
 confidence," returned the lady ; *' and I am 
 sure that she is treated with every kindness." 
 
 " I wish / were certain of it," sighed the earl. 
 
14 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 "Why should you doubt me, my lord/'' said 
 Mrs. Miltoune. 
 
 " Do I not know you ?" said the sufferer ; 
 *' this is no time to flatter, Eliza : I know 
 you to be cold and unfeeling. Young as 
 you are, you have proved yourself heartless ; 
 and, as I have neglected the child, I fear it has 
 met with no better treatment from you.'"* 
 
 " I have not deserved these suspicions, my 
 lord ; for, although it is very true that you 
 have forgotten a father *s duty, yet I have 
 always had the feelings of a mother towards 
 the child," returned the lady, coldly. 
 
 " I should be comforted if I thought so/' 
 said the earl ; " but that the poor child may 
 not risk any neglect in future, I have appointed 
 a guardian, v/ith an ample provision for her 
 future maintenance.'' 
 
 " No guardian of a female child can be more 
 proper than her mother ; — of course you have 
 consulted my feelings," said Mrs. Miltoune. 
 
 " I feel I cannot prolong this conversation,'' 
 
HORACE VERNON. 15 
 
 said the poor nobleman, — his voice now scarcely 
 above a whisper — " Your future course of life, 
 Eliza, is uncertain, and, as the child may 
 need protection and advice in her struggle with 
 the world, I have named my confidential soli- 
 citor, Mr. Robinson, as her guardian." At this 
 intimation, Mrs. Miltoune rose from the bed- 
 side, her face suffused, and her brows lowering 
 with unrepressed anger, which not even the 
 scene before her, nor the serious business she 
 was summoned upon, could control ; and, bend- 
 ing over the earl, she whispered in his ear, in 
 accents only audible to himself: — •' Then I can 
 tell you, that you have placed your confidence 
 in a rascal !'' 
 
 A momentary uneasiness was visible in the 
 worn and attenuated countenance of the earl, 
 at this cruel excitement of suspicion, in a matter 
 in which he was so much interested, and at 
 such a moment. 
 
 "I do not believe it,'''' he muttered; "I 
 have proved him. But, had you come sooner, 
 
16 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 you might have given me reason for what you 
 say. It is now too late !" And then, in en- 
 deavouring to raise his voice to call Robinson, 
 he was seized with so violent a fit of cough- 
 ing as to raise the fear that he would not 
 be able to complete the instrument. Gibson 
 and the nurse came to his assistance, and, sup- 
 ported by them, he rallied. The earl's com- 
 plaint was inflammation in the lungs, caught at 
 the Newmarket October meeting, and his 
 decayed constitution had sunk under the treat- 
 ment. 
 
 " At what time did Dr. Ellison say he would 
 return ?''"' asked the earl, of Gibson. 
 
 '' At twelve o'clock, my lord," replied the 
 valet, who, with the nurse, then withdrew. 
 
 " Robinson, read the papers you have pre- 
 pared, and let Mrs. Miltoune hear the pro- 
 visions,"*" said the earl, after* a long pause, 
 during which he had somewhat recovered him- 
 self. Mr. Robinson drew the table nearer to 
 the bedside, that his voice might not be too 
 
HORACE VERNON. IJ 
 
 loud for the invalid, and proceeded to read the 
 documents. One was a deed of conveyance of 
 a small estate in Berkshire, worth d£*200 per 
 annum, to the child about whom the earl had 
 been speaking. In another deed Mr. Robinson 
 was appointed her trustee and guardian, to re- 
 ceive the rent on her behalf, and to expend a 
 portion in her bringing up and education. The 
 surplus was directed to be invested till she was 
 of age, or married. The deeds were framed 
 according to all the forms provided in such 
 cases by the law. 
 
 This proceeding was evidently intended by 
 the earl to avoid the publicity of such a bequest 
 in his will ; and it appeared to answer the pur- 
 pose effectually, so far as the interest of the 
 child was concerned. Mrs. Miltoune, however, 
 from her sullen manner, seemed to be far from 
 satisfied with the arrangement. It might have 
 been, perhaps, that her own interests were over- 
 looked, or that her feelings were wounded by 
 the appointment of any other guardian than 
 
18 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 herself. At all events, she had not uttered a 
 syllable since the last remark she made to the 
 earl, which caused him such uneasiness. The 
 earl evidently distrusted her ; and, it would 
 seem, the epithet he bestowed upon her was not 
 unjust, since she could, in so coarse and unfeel- 
 ing a manner, endeavour to disturb the peace 
 of his dying pillow. 
 
 The papers were signed at length in the pre- 
 sence of Gibson and a clerk of Robinson, who had 
 been in attendance for the purpose. Robinson 
 and the valet supported the earl while he af- 
 fixed his almost illegible signature. The valet 
 and clerk withdrew. 
 
 " And now, hear what I have further to say," 
 said the earl, with difficulty. " Mr. Robinson, 
 I wish the child to be under the care of her 
 mother, so long as she is of tender years, or — 
 but I have spoken with you before on that sub- 
 ject, and you know my mind. You will find a 
 note-case at the back of my pillow. Take it, 
 and count the contents.'^ 
 
HORACE VERNON. 19 
 
 " There are three notes, my lord, of dS'iOOO 
 each," said Mr. Robinson, in his soft voice, 
 after he had found the case as directed by the 
 earl, and opened it. 
 
 " I wish that sum to be given to Mrs. Mil- 
 toune, from time to time, as occasion may re- 
 quire, for our old friendship's sake, and for the 
 care she may take of my child." At the mention 
 of this act of kindness on the part of the earl 
 towards her, Mrs. Miltoune's sullenness re- 
 laxed, and she placed her hand upon that of the 
 earl, which was lying on the coverlet of the 
 bed. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear Charleston,''' she said, 
 «• this is kind of you : you know my embar- 
 rassments. But still I hope that I yet may re- 
 ceive it from your own hands." 
 
 " No, Eliza ; I feel it to be impossible. I 
 know that the hand of death is upon me !" 
 And, as he feebly uttered these words, his whole 
 frame shuddered, as it were, at the awful con- 
 viction. 
 
20 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Good God ! Charleston, how you frighten 
 me I'' said the lady. Her countenance, however, 
 betrayed no appearance of extreme concern. 
 
 '' I dare not die !" continued the earl, con- 
 vulsively ; " I am no coward — and yet I dare 
 not die !' 
 
 " My dear lord !" exclaimed the solicitor, in 
 the tone of wliose voice the utmost anxiety was 
 manifested, "pray let me send for your friend, 
 Dr. Symonds."*' The sick nobleman might well 
 make an impatient, fretful movement. The 
 proposition must have sounded to him almost 
 like a sarcasm ; for the divine was his constant 
 guest, but not of that class who can administer 
 consolation to a dying bed. 
 
 "• Name him not !" ejaculated the earl ; *' his 
 very name reminds me of what I would wil- 
 lingly forget." 
 
 " Would the presence of any other clergy- 
 man be of comfort to you .^" inquired Mr. 
 Robinson, of his patron. 
 
 " None ! none ! what have I to hope or ex- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 21 
 
 pect ? It might have been different with me ; 
 I might have had the kind offices of friends ; — 
 but I am without one in my extremity !*" 
 
 " Oh, my lord, do not say so," interposed 
 the solicitor ; *■' I am humble, it is true ; but I 
 should not think my life a sacrifice to serve 
 you, to whom I owe everything." 
 
 " Be honest to my poor child !" said the 
 dying earl. 
 
 " As 1 live, my lord, and hope to thrive," 
 said the solicitor, earnestly. 
 
 "And do you forget, Charleston, that I am 
 at your side !" said Mrs. Miltoune, softening 
 as much as possible a voice naturally unpliable. 
 
 " Will you do your duty faithfully to my 
 child .?" said the earl. 
 
 " Banish such a suspicion," returned Mrs. 
 Miltoune ; "it is indeed without a cause. I 
 shall certainly do my duty to her." 
 
 " Eliza, you have said a word this night 
 which has planted a thorn in my heart. Swear 
 to me — a. dying man — that you will fulfil my 
 wishes !" 
 
22 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " I do swear it !" she said solemnly. 
 
 " Robinson," continued the earl, after the 
 lapse of a brief interval, in which he drew his 
 breath with difficulty ; " I have done you some 
 service — I believe you grateful — swear to me, 
 by all you expect, that my last request shall 
 be fulfilled." 
 
 ^' My dear lord, and kindest friend," said 
 Robinson, whose voice seemed shaken by some 
 strong emotion, " if such additional proof of 
 my sincerity is grateful to you at such a mo- 
 ment, I do swear it, most solemnly !" 
 
 " I am satisfied !" said the earl. 
 
 The silver tones of the clock chimed the hour 
 of twelve. 
 
 " Eliza !" said the earl, whose voice had 
 sunk to a low, hollow whisper, " we are friends, 
 I hope ! Give me your hand."*' 
 
 " You are cold !" she said. 
 
 " Very — very cold — I feel like ice ! get me 
 more covering !" 
 
 Mr. Robinson called Gibson and the nurse 
 
 " Good God !"" whispered Gibson, as he be- 
 
Hon ACE VERNON. 23 
 
 held his master, " he is dying !" The earl 
 was breathing heavily, and they were all stand- 
 ing silently around him. The valet endea- 
 voured to raise his master upon the pillow. 
 " My dear master," said Gibson, with real feel- 
 ing, " can I do anything to make you easier ?" 
 
 " Swear it ! swear it 1" unconsciously mut- 
 tered the dying man. As Gibson raised his lord, 
 to render his breathing easier, a slight convul- 
 sion seemed to shake his frame ; his teeth were 
 clenched, and a streak of blood was visible 
 through his compressed lips. At that moment 
 the door opened, and a tall, ungainly-looking 
 person entered, and approached the bed. It was 
 Dr. Ellison. A glance at his patient sufficed. 
 
 " Lay down the body," he said to Gibson ; 
 " the earl is dead !" 
 
24 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 '* This mournful truth is everywhere confess'd, 
 Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd," 
 
 " But see, — here she comes !" 
 
 At the house of a respectable retail vendor 
 of coals and potatoes, in Red Lion street, re- 
 sided, some few years since, a Mr. Jabez Huns- 
 man. He lived in the second floor, and the 
 house might be distinguished from all its 
 neighbours, by the door-post being decorated 
 with three small shining brass bell-handles, inti- 
 mating to each lodger his separate call. Mr. 
 Hunsman was an industrious individual ; that 
 is to say, he was seldom unemployed ; and, from 
 
HORACE VERNON. 25 
 
 the diversified nature of his pursuits, he was 
 very generally known in certain classes, and 
 enjoyed a circle of acquaintance of remarkable 
 extent and variety. Mr. Hunsman had com- 
 menced life as the humble assistant of the knife 
 and boot-cleaner at the Feathers, in Hand-court, 
 Holborn ; but, by activity and industry in his 
 calling, he shortly arrived at the head of his 
 department. Here his character for activity still 
 befriended him ; for he was shortly promoted to 
 the post of waiter, and gradually arrived at the 
 dignity of butler in a gentleman's family. That 
 evil fortune which sometimes checks the most 
 illustrious career, here clouded the prospects of 
 Mr. Hunsman. Without minutely stating the 
 details, it is sufficient to say that Mr. Hunsman 
 ost his situation and grade in society, in which, 
 indeed, no after- exertion of his own could re- 
 establish him. His friends affirmed that he 
 was the victim of an artful conspiracy, and was 
 much to be pitied ; but his general character 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
26 
 
 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 for shrewdness argued somewhat against the 
 supposition of his being made a dupe. 
 
 Mr. Hunsman was, after that unfortunate 
 period, reduced to the occupation of accom- 
 panying a sheriff's officer in the performance of 
 his unpleasant duties. This gave him an in- 
 sight into a very peculiar walk of life, where 
 his activity was of considerable service to him, 
 for he was shortly promoted to the responsible 
 situation of one of the under-turnkeys of the 
 King's Bench prison. 
 
 It was the great misfortune of Mr. Hunsman, 
 that, upon his arrival at any dignity, his evil 
 star gained the ascendancy, and instantly nul- 
 lified all the effects of his previous exertions. 
 He had not enjoyed this respectable and lucra- 
 tive post more than six months before he was 
 superseded, for some gratuitous act of kindness 
 to a prisoner, which was not reconcileable with 
 the strict routine of his duties. This cost him 
 his situation, and, as he used to say, was the 
 effect of having too good and susceptible a heart, 
 
HORACE VERNON. 27 
 
 which made him unfit for his office. Never- 
 theless, the circumstances of the ci-devant func- 
 tionary were little short of affluent, since his 
 retirement from office ; which excited strange 
 remarks amono^st his friends. Those least dis- 
 posed to scandal, however, believed that the 
 peculiar hardship of his case had brought upon 
 him the liberality of the humane in an unusual 
 degree. But the pride of Hunsman never would 
 allow him to acknowledge that he had been 
 the object of eleemosynary aid. 
 
 Wealth does not long remain with so kind- 
 hearted an individual as he of whose eccentric 
 career we are endeavouring to give a brief out- 
 line. In addition to other drains upon his 
 purse, he had wedded a lady who occupied the 
 situation of attendant upon the parlour-fre- 
 quenters of the Three Crowns; by the snug 
 fireside of which hospitable mansion he had so 
 often consoled himself for the tricks of that 
 scurvy jade, Fortune. In goodness of heart 
 this lady rivalled Mr. Hunsman himself, and, 
 c 2 
 
28 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 by the exercise of that undefinable feeling called 
 sympathy, had frequently soothed him into a 
 forgetfulness of his sorrows. But what worked 
 most upon Mr. Hunsman's feelings was, that 
 having the confidence of the landlord, and con- 
 sequently the unlimited use of the chalk, — mis- 
 led sometimes by the pure benevolence of her 
 feelings, she would deem it a pious and com- 
 mendable ruse to insinuate into the long, ram- 
 bling account of some profligate and impro- 
 vident individual, the superfluities with which 
 the honest and kind-hearted Hunsman was 
 wont to beguile his cares. It was not in the 
 nature of such a man as Hunsman to be in- 
 sensible to such kindness ; — he espoused her 
 from sheer gratitude. In one sense, perhaps, 
 the match was unfortunate for him ; for, 
 having so long had the reputation of being a 
 ready-money customer, he could never after- 
 wards establish a comfortable credit at the 
 Three Crowns. But he was amply compen- 
 sated for such privation, by the possession of an 
 amiable wife, and the charm of domestic life. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 29 
 
 The person of Mr. Hunsman was short and 
 stout, and his face was deeply marked with the 
 small-pox. His wife might be truly said to be 
 his better half; for she was half as large again 
 as himself; and, from the nature of her former 
 duties, she had acquired an habitual smile, 
 heretofore so seductive to the parlour- customers 
 of the Three Crowns, but, in some situations, 
 forming rather an ambiguous peculiarity. 
 
 It was on the evening after the event of the 
 preceding chapter, that this domestic couple 
 were comfortably seated by the blazing sea- 
 coal over which, by the way, Mr. Hunsman, as 
 head of the establishment, ruled with an iron 
 sway ; and the domestic hearth was still further 
 enlivened by a guest — a friend of the family. 
 To complete the domestic picture we must notice 
 a pale, interesting-looking little girl, seated away 
 from the fire, in a cold corner of the room. 
 She appeared to be about five years of age, and 
 was sorely perplexed amidst the intricacies of a 
 sampler, or some such work of art, whereon 
 
30 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 ■was seen the devices of three crowns, a punch- 
 bowl, and other images of festivity. These 
 the poor child was vainly endeavouring to trace 
 with the needle ; sobbing and sighing over her 
 task, and occasionally stimulated by the height- 
 ened voice of the smiling Mrs. Hunsman. The 
 party had just finished supper, and the re- 
 mainder of the delicacies of their social repast, 
 consisting of a bladebone of mutton, cheese, 
 and onions, and two empty quart pots, were 
 pushed over to the vacant half of the table. 
 The bare space was supplied by two glasses 
 and a tea-cup, an earthenware mustard-pot 
 full of brown sugar, and a bottle of Hodges', 
 *' extra strong for mixing," — as warranted by 
 the huge placard exhibited in the window of 
 the Three Crowns. The kettle was singing on 
 the fire, pipes and tobacco were upon the table, 
 and everything appeared to promise a convivial 
 evening. 
 
 " I'm blessed if 1 don't wish that child was 
 in the workus, instead of sitting snivelling 
 
HORACE VERNON. 31 
 
 there/"' ejaculated the smiling helpmate of the 
 ex-turnkey. 
 
 "And a very good place too,'"* added the 
 humane Hunsman, mixing for himself some of 
 the cordial in the tea- cup, and pushing a glass 
 to his companion ; " there's a many worse 
 place than that, and no mistake." 
 
 " She has only been at work since eight in 
 the morning," continued Mrs. Hunsman, " and 
 I've promised the sampler to old Johnson, to 
 hang up in the parlour of the Three Crowns. 
 The old blackguard has put turpentine in this 
 gin,"' she added, in the same breath, tasting 
 the mixture from her husband's tea-cup, and 
 speedily mixing a glass for herself, '• and I'm 
 blessed if he don't ruin that house — you'll see."* 
 
 " I don't see nothing amiss with the liquor — 
 not I," said her husband, almost hiding him- 
 self in a cloud of smoke he had contrived to 
 raise. "But come, Jeffries, finish telling us 
 about yesterday's work." The individual thus 
 addressed was no other than the clerk of Mr. 
 
32 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 Robinson, who had been in attendance at the 
 Earl of Charleston's residence, to witness the 
 deed. He was a young man, with sharp, 
 pinched-up features, which generally wore a 
 smirking expression ; and his hair, carefully 
 parted and curled on each side of his forehead, 
 glistened with a profusion of bear's grease. 
 He wore a suit of professional black, somewhat 
 seedy; his shirt — and it was evidently not 
 "clean shirt day" with him — was fastened 
 with gilt studs, and his black stock was so in- 
 geniously contrived, that the under material 
 was in many places visible. 
 
 "Why, Jabez" familiarly replied the friend 
 of the family, slowly puffing a thin stream of 
 smoke from the corner of his mouth, " that 
 was a rum concern, that of last night ; you see, 
 I know my governor's ways so well." 
 
 " Davis, in the square," said Hunsman, 
 pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, as 
 it were in the direction, " says your governor's 
 a queer one." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 33 
 
 " More than him says so, and knows it too," 
 returned the shrewd Jeffries, winking one eye 
 most significantly at his companion. 
 
 ** They say he had the length of the old 
 lord's foot,'"* said Hunsman, inquiringly. 
 
 " 1 believe you," was the reply of the other ; 
 " he turned him round his fing-er. It was a 
 rum start, too,"" continued the clerk, turning 
 half round on his chair, and placing his elbow 
 upon the back of it, in the reflective position of 
 one about to philosophize, while the smoke was 
 impelled in a still finer stream — " it was a rum 
 start, I say, for the old lord, — who, people say, 
 knew a thing or two, — to take up with my go- 
 vernor, for peaching against his principals." 
 
 " What was that .?" asked Hunsman. 
 
 " There was some plan to foreclose a mort- 
 gage, not exactly in the right way, d*ye under- 
 stand ? and ni}' governor, who was in the secret, 
 went to the old lord, and put him up to it, — 
 just in the same way that I might ring the 
 changes upon the governor himself, about last 
 c 3 
 
34 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 night's work — eh ?'"* said Jeffries, to his com- 
 panion, with the easy confidence of genius. 
 
 "But you were not in the secret, I sup- 
 pose?" said Hunsman. 
 
 " Lord love you ! do you think I'm in no 
 secrets but what I'm told ?"" said the other. 
 " I have not been with tne governor three years 
 without learning to keep my eyes and ears 
 open — trust Jack Jeffries for that." 
 
 " You're a knowing chap, Master Jeffries. 
 But come, you don't like the drink ." said Huns- 
 man, to the communicative understrapper of 
 the law ; " you mustn't mind what the old 
 woman says about the turpentine." 
 
 " I hope it may poison me if there aint tur- 
 pentine in it," reiterated his help-mate, supping 
 up the remainder of her tumbler, as though 
 she was tasting it for the first time. 
 
 " Well, then. 111 tell how I came to know 
 something of tlie governor's plans," continued 
 Jeffries, lowering his voice into a " private and 
 confidential" sort of tone — '' when your friend 
 
HORACE VERNON. 35 
 
 Mrs. Miltoune came in last night, I knew well 
 enough the business was soon to begin ; so, 
 after the old lord had had a fit of coughing, 
 that very nigh carried him off, I asked Gibson 
 to get me a glass of hot gin and water, thinking 
 there wasn't such a thing in the house, and that 
 it would take some time to send for. Well, 
 every thing was as still as death ; the old nurse 
 was gossipping in the housekeeper's room ; so, 
 what does I do, but clap ray listener to the key- 
 hole ; and, may I never sit here again if I didn't 
 hear every word of it but the last few lines, 
 which wasn't material.'' 
 
 " Well, that was clever of you, anyhow,''' 
 remarked his friend ; " and what did you 
 hear ?" At this plain and simple question the 
 lawyer slowly withdrew his pipe from his 
 mouth, and leaning over towards his friend, 
 placed the tip of his right thumb upon his 
 nose, and extending the fingers of his hand to 
 their utmost span, waved them playfully to and 
 fro, uttering at the same time most signifi- 
 
36 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 cantly, the euphonious dissyllable " Walker !" 
 Hunsman was in no manner disconcerted by 
 this facetious reply of his friend, but suddenly 
 exclaiming — 
 
 " Lord bless us ! look at that child r and 
 while the clerk directed his eye toward the child 
 already mentioned, with the sampler, who was 
 curled up on two chairs, having cried herself to 
 sleep, the hospitable Hunsman, in the kindness 
 of his heart, helped him to an additional supply 
 of neat spirit. 
 
 " Well, but if you know anything that's 
 worth knowing," remarked Hunsman, before 
 the other could speak, " why not serve your 
 governor with his own sauce ? — it wouldn't be 
 a bad turn." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean to say but what it is all 
 square as yet,"" said the trusty counsellor ; 
 " besides, what should I get by that ? I 
 havn't the old lord to make it worth my while, 
 as the governor had ; and good reason why — 
 because he's dead ;" — and chuckling at his 
 
HORACE VERNON. 3^ 
 
 smartness, he gulped down half the strong con- 
 tents of his tumbler. " But, I say, I've made 
 this precious stiff, and no mistake," he added, 
 making rather a wry face at the potency of 
 the " extra strong." 
 
 " Lord ! what's such a tooth full as that — it 
 wouldn't harm a babby,''"' jocosely observed the 
 liberal ex-functionary ; "so, you think there's 
 nothing amiss, then, after all, eh ?'''' 
 
 " Why, as I know the governor's ways in 
 these matters," said the clerk, his voice getting 
 a little thick with his potation, " and as no- 
 body knows better than me that he never does 
 nothing for nothing — that is to say, you see, — 
 well, that's a rum go, Jabez — I'm hanged if 
 I know what I was saying." 
 
 " The governor, you was saying, never does 
 nothing for nothing," suggested Jabez. 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! why, then, take my word for it, 
 as sure as my name is Jack Jeffries, it wont 
 rest as it is. I know his ways, you see." 
 
 *' Well, then, it seems to me, friend Jeff., 
 
38 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 that, sharp as you are, you know nothing about 
 the matter. You've found a mare's nest, my 
 man,'' said Hunsman, in a bantering tone, re- 
 lighting his pipe, which had gone out during 
 the late colloquy, in vvhich the too-generous 
 host seemed peculiarly interested. He then 
 quietly resumed his occupation, and assumed 
 an admirable indifference to any further dis- 
 course. 
 
 Jeffries evidently began to feel the effects 
 of his entertainment ; for, gravely endeavouring 
 to re-adjust himself in his former position, his 
 elbow went wide of its support, and he was 
 indebted to the timely assistance of his friend 
 for the preservation of his equilibrium. 
 
 "Jabez," said the clerk, with drunken so- 
 lemnity, " give me your hand ; hollo, keep 
 steady, my boy, you're drunk," shouted the 
 man of law, laughing vehemently at what he 
 considered his friend's mishap ; for, beguiled 
 by the ardour of friendship, he was about to 
 slap the offered palm with more than usual 
 
HORACE VERNOX. 39 
 
 waniith ; but, not accurately judging the dis- 
 tance, he struck wide of the mark, and fell 
 plump upon his knees, with his head in his 
 friend's lap, — at the same time plentifully be- 
 dewing the person of his host with the contents 
 of his tumbler. 
 
 With the utmost equanimity did the good- 
 natured Hunsman assist his friend to his seat, 
 humoured him in the belief that the accident 
 was the effect of his own intemperance, and, 
 finally, in the warmth of hospitality, reple- 
 nished his glass from another bottle. This 
 contretemps nearly aroused Mrs. Hunsman, who, 
 we have negligently omitted to state, had been 
 for some time in a state of sweet forgetfulness, 
 resting her head and arms upon the table — one 
 hand thrust under her cap, amongst her dishe- 
 velled locks, the other dabbling in a small 
 puddle of gin and water. 
 
 " Jabez," said the clerk, resuming his former 
 gravity, " I think you're my friend, and I'm 
 sure you mean well, eh ?'"* 
 
40 HORACE VEIIXON. 
 
 " You're right. Jack,"'' returned his friend ; 
 "" if I had done as well as I meant, I should 
 not have been sipping gin and water out of an 
 old tea-cup, and you should have had some- 
 thing better, my Jack o' trumps ! But my 
 good nature has been the ruin of me."" 
 
 " I believe you, old fellow," hiccupped 
 Jack ; " you've got a good heart, and I re- 
 spect a man with a good heart. Now, you 
 shan't say Jack Jeffries is the man not to share 
 a bit of intelligence with a friend." 
 
 "That's spoke like yourself. Jack — here's 
 luck to you, my boy," and, to do honour to 
 the sentiment, both friends applied more earn- 
 estly to their respective potations. 
 
 " Now, mark me, Jabez ," said the clerk, at- 
 tempting to light his pipe, and thrusting the 
 bowl into the tallow ; '• the kid yonder," jerk- 
 ing his head over to the side of the room where 
 the poor little child was sleeping away its 
 sorrow, " the youngster, I say, is the old lord's 
 own flesh and blood !" 
 
HORACE VERNON. 41 
 
 " The devil !'" ejaculated Hunsman, with the 
 earnestness of an invocation. 
 
 " Fact ! as sure you sit there," hiccupped 
 his friend ; *' and more, she is left an estate 
 worth .£^200 a year, and your friend, Mrs. 
 Miltoune, has got ^C'SOOO to take proper care 
 of her !" 
 
 *' Well, that's a good start for somebody, 
 anyhow," said Mr. Hunsman, after the first 
 emotion of surprise had subsided, and he ap- 
 plied himself to his pipe with more than usual 
 earnestness. " Are you sure it was made se- 
 cure .^" 
 
 " As sure as stamp and parchment could 
 make it,'^ said Jeffries. " There was but one 
 weak point about the case.''' 
 
 " What was that, Jack ?" asked Hunsman, 
 laying down his pipe. 
 
 " In the matter of the guardian," answered 
 Jeffries, with as much significance as the gin 
 and water had left him. 
 
 " I can make it right with her," said JabeZj^ 
 
42 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 confidently ; " there are things, between us, 
 that I know of, that she would be obliged — " 
 
 " You're all wrong, Jabez, she aint got any- 
 thing to do with it," stammered Jeffries. 
 
 " Who then ? not your governor, eh ?'^ 
 
 " You're a witch, Jabez ! he's the very man — 
 whole and sole guardian and trustee, and no 
 mistake." At these words a blank expression 
 of disappointment stole over the expressive 
 physiognomy of Jabez Hunsman, and making 
 two or three rapid and severe applications to 
 his pipe, he exclaimed vehemently — 
 
 " Then we're all done, by — !" and he 
 thumped the table, as it were to add force to 
 the asseveration. 
 
 " Two full pipes, and a pint of half-and- 
 half," muttered his unconscious spouse; her 
 errant fancy was evidently in the parlour of the 
 Three Crowns. 
 
 " Here have I been at the expense of that 
 child for these two years," continued Jabez, 
 '' and been always told that something hand- 
 
HORACE VERXON. 43 
 
 some would be done one day ; and here, at last, 
 its all in the hands of a thievish lawyer, and 
 we shall never have a shilling of it. But its 
 all of a piece with my d — d good nature. I 
 ought to have sent the child to the workus long 
 ago." The perception of Jeffries was somewhat 
 clouded, yet still his professional acuteness en- 
 abled him to espy a loop-hole in his friend's 
 favour, to calm his indignation. 
 
 "Don't you be down-hearted about the mat- 
 ter, Jabez,^"* hiccupped Jeffries ; " for, though 
 you are drunk, you've got a friend that will 
 stand by you. I've seen many a good case 
 made out of worse documents than your's. 
 Don't you see, Jabez, that if tliere's any cross 
 in this matter of the deed, as I suppose there 
 will be, both parties must agree ; — d — n that 
 pipe.'' 
 
 "' Here, take mine," said the generous,but im- 
 patient Jabez, thrusting his own into his friend's 
 hand, in lieu of that which he had broken in 
 expounding the law — '• now go on."' 
 
44 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Let me see, brother Jabez," murmured 
 Jeffries, with a drunken attempt at lawj^er-like 
 gravity, " let me see — what was the point ?" 
 
 " The deed — both parties must be agreeable 
 — don't you remember ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, 1 see," he continued, his pro- 
 fessional instinct assisting his bewildered fa- 
 culties—" that's clear — both parties must agree 
 if they mean any cross ; so, Jabez, your 
 plan is to know nothing about this matter until 
 we see what they intend to do ; but stick close 
 to your friend^ Mrs. What-d'ye-call-her," and 
 here the besotted limb of the law thrust his 
 tongue into his cheek, and leered at his friend, 
 in so facetious yet significant a ^spirit, that 
 Jabez at once comprehended the insinuation. 
 
 " No, no, old fellow, you're wTong there,"* 
 said he, his countenance growing a little brighter 
 with the lawyer's consolatory observations; "its 
 all a matter of business between me and her. 
 I first made her acquaintance professionally. 
 Davis gave me a writ to serve on her, as I was 
 
HORACE VERNON. 45 
 
 a smartish-dressed chap ; and I did it like a 
 gentleman, and sent for a coach for her to 
 come to Davis's house in the Square, till she 
 could settle — which she wasn't long about. 
 But I was mighty civil to her, and didn't get 
 along with her into the coach, but mounted on 
 the box, and made the man jump up behind, 
 so that people would not have known but what 
 she had got two livery servants." 
 
 '*' Nice boys for livery servants, I don''t 
 think," hiccupped out the clerk ; " but I sup- 
 pose she made it right with you ?" 
 
 " We have been on and off ever since," con- 
 tinued Jabez. " I have been concerned in three 
 or four little jobs for her, and I can't say I have 
 any reason to find fault, e:rcept in the matter of 
 the child. She got me to take it off her hands, 
 promising something very handsome." 
 ' '^ You'll have it, Jabez, my boy — she will be 
 here before many hours are over your head, or 
 say Jack Jeffries knows nothing about his bu- 
 siness. There goes that pipe again," he mut- 
 
46 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 tered, with an expression stronger than is need- 
 ful to repeat, and throwing the broken pieces 
 under the grate, " they don't make 'em half so 
 strong as they used. Well — now I'm off, Ja- 
 bez — but Vm sorry to see you so drunk — very 
 sorry — keep your eye up, old boy, and Avhat- 
 ever you do, don't give your mind to drink- 
 ing." 
 
 While Mr. JeiFries was thus uttering liis 
 drunken encouragement and advice, and pre- 
 paring to make a vigorous sally from his posi- 
 tion, some person from without made so ener- 
 getic an appeal to the little brass bell-handle, 
 which acted as the summons to Mr. Jabez 
 Hunsman's establishment, that the family of 
 that respectable man were all aroused to a con- 
 sciousness of some impending event. 
 
 ••' Well I'm sure/' exclaimed the drowsy 
 Mrs. Hunsman, " they would never have sent 
 that hundred of coals at this time of night !" at 
 the same time endeavouring to adjust lier dis- 
 ordered head -gear. 
 
HOIIACE VERNON. 47 
 
 " It's more likely a job from Davis/' said 
 Mr. Hunsman thoughtfully. 
 
 " Then Davis's job is as drunk as beans,'* 
 said Jeffries, holding himself up by the mantel- 
 piece, and moving his head to and fro like a 
 mandarin in a grocer's window. 
 
 Another peal reminded them that some one 
 was intent on admittance — a fact which seemed 
 hitherto to have escaped the comprehension of 
 the party. 
 
 " Jabez, why don't you see who it is ? If 
 aunt should but be dead how comfortable we 
 shall be !" urged Hunsman's smiling help- 
 mate. 
 
 " Softly there — Fm coming," said Hunsman, 
 lighting a candle to descend to their impatient 
 visitor. " Put that child to bed, Bess," he 
 added, seeing the child sitting shivering in the 
 chair ; " it looks as white as an angel on a tomb- 
 stone." Whilst her husband descended to an- 
 swer the door, his amiable wife took the child 
 and the only candle, and quitted the room, 
 
48 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 leaving Jeffries by the fire-light, balancing him- 
 self by the mantel-piece, as before described. 
 
 " Well !" hiccupped the remaining worthy, 
 in a kind of soliloquy, " they are all drunk and 
 gone to bed, and so I must find my way out. 
 This is what they call treating one in a friendly 
 way, I suppose — to break one's neck down 
 stairs in the dark !" So saying, he left his 
 position, and, staggering across the room, had 
 just reached the door, when it was opened 
 briskly from without, nearly to the discomfiture 
 of our honest Jeffries, who, to save the conse- 
 quences, vigorously possessed himself of the 
 arm of his friend, and, in the effort, dislodged 
 the candle from between the thumb and fingers 
 of Hunsman, and it extinguished itself on the 
 floor. 
 
 " Hollo, Jabez ! — this comes of your being 
 drunk; my boy,"' cried the clerk, with a hic- 
 cupping laugh. 
 
 '* Hush, you fool,'' politely whispered his 
 friend in his ear, " it's Mrs. Miltoune !" 
 
HORACE VERNON. 49 
 
 " Oh— h!" ejaculated Jeffries, " that's it;" 
 and reeling into the corner lately occupied by 
 the child, he seated himself in a chair. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, ma'am,"" said Jabez, 
 " ril light the candle in an instant — you had 
 better not come in till I've got a light, or 
 mayhap you may hurt yourself." 
 
 '•* Make what haste you can," said the lady 
 from the passage, " for I've not many minutes 
 to stay." Jabez applied the poker to the fire, and 
 making a little blaze, thrust the candle into it 
 as the quickest way of procuring a light, but 
 after several vain attempts, began a fruitless 
 search in his pockets for paper. 
 
 " What are you doing, Mr. Hunsman .'*" said 
 the lady, impatiently, " remember I'm waiting 
 in the cold." 
 
 " Shan't be one moment," cried Mr. Huns- 
 man. " It is always the way," he muttered, 
 " when one wants anything." Then groping 
 over the table, having first seized the mutton- 
 bone, and then upset the tea-cup, he found the 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 paper which had held the tobacco, and drop- 
 ping upon his knees, and blowing with all his 
 might, he succeeded at last in procuring igni- 
 tion. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Miltoune, will you please to 
 walk in,"' said Hunsman, in his blandest tone ; 
 '' I'm sorry to keep you waiting so long. Only 
 my particular friend, Mr. Jeffries,'"* observed 
 the host, as he saw the lady look at the clerk 
 suspiciously. " We've been talking over a 
 matter of business this evening — a family mat- 
 ter." The clerk, holding firmly by the chair, 
 immediately made an attempt at rising, to ac- 
 knowledge the introduction ; but finding the 
 speculation hazardous, he prudently resumed 
 his seat. Owing to the obscurity of the corner 
 he had chosen, and a fit of coughing with 
 which the lady was opportunely seized, his 
 manoeuvres were not observed, or at least not 
 attributed to their right cause. 
 
 " Bless me ! what a place,"' exclaimed Mrs. 
 Miltoune, between the intervals of coughing ; 
 
HORACE VERNON. 51 
 
 "I am almost suffocated with this filthy to- 
 bacco." 
 
 " Shall I open the windows ?" asked Huns- 
 man. 
 
 " Anything, so that I can breathe,""* returned 
 the lady. The windows were accordingly 
 opened, and the fumes of the tobacco some- 
 what dispersed. 
 
 " If I had known you had been coming, 
 ma'am — " began Hunsman, in an apologetical 
 strain. 
 
 " You must please to excuse our friend Jabez, 
 this evening, ma'am," interrupted Jeffries, in- 
 distinctly ; " for I have been rather hard upon 
 him ; and as for the matter of the 'bacco, I 
 have tried to bring him to segars these two 
 years, on account of the ladies ; but, I'm sorry 
 to say, he has got some vulgar prejudices, 
 and won't give up the clay. The lord preserve 
 me from drunkenness I" And then, with a 
 chuckling laugh, he threw his legs upon ano- 
 ther chair, and reclined against the wall, as 
 D 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOia 
 LIBRARY 
 
52 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 though preparing for a nap. The clerk said 
 this in so broken and unintelligible a tone, that 
 Mrs. Miltoune, to whom it was addressed, 
 was not greatly enlightened by it ; but Huns- 
 man, pointing to the bottle, and then applying 
 his forefinger significantly to his forehead, suf- 
 ficiently accounted to her for the style of the 
 address. She looked vaguely into the corner 
 whence the voice proceeded, and then turning 
 to the fire, by the side of which Jabez had ob- 
 sequiously placed a chair, she sat down, utter- 
 ing, as it were to herself — 
 
 '« The filthy monster !" 
 
 ** What can I do for you, ma'am,'" said 
 Hunsman, fidgetting about, first poking the 
 fire, then pushing the table, and then snuffing 
 the candle; in every action betraying a nervous 
 anxiety to bring about the business that 
 brought Mrs. Miltoune to his domicile, at so 
 late an hour. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Hunsman," said Mrs. Mil- 
 toune, "it is rather late to call; but I have 
 
HORACE VERNON. 53 
 
 been in the city, and have taken your house on 
 my way back. The fact is, I am rather anx- 
 ious about the child." 
 
 " The dear thing is quite well," interrupted 
 Jabez, casting a glance towards Jeffries, who, 
 however, answered the admonitory hint only by 
 a snore. '' She has been in bed some hours ; my 
 wife is just now gone to look at her ; and I will 
 say — though mayhap I oughtn't to say it— that 
 never was a child brought up better." 
 
 '' I'm glad to hear it," said Mrs. Miltoune ; 
 "but, indeed, I was quite sure of that, or I 
 should have been with you long ago. I have 
 been thinking it was time to put her to school ; 
 she must be nearly five years old." 
 
 " Why, yes, ma'am, she was just three 
 years old this very Michaelmas Term two 
 )^ears since, when you first left her here ; and 
 you haven't set eyes upon her since ; which, in 
 course, I take to be your satisfaction of the 
 treatment." 
 
 " I have had perfect reliance on you and 
 
54 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 your wife,*" said Mrs. Miltoune ; " and, in- 
 deed, my affairs have been in so deranged a 
 state for some time, as you know, that I have 
 not had the means of doing anything for 
 Charlotte.'' 
 
 " In course, ma'am, in course," said Huns- 
 man, hastily rising to shut the window, seeing 
 Mrs. Miltoune wrapping her cloak around 
 her. "Shall I oifer you a little something 
 warm ? Yes, ma'am, as you say, I know you 
 have had your troubles," adroitly continued 
 the ex-turnkey, mixing, at the same time, a 
 potent glass of the " extra strong," as though 
 he would spare his visitor the trouble of reply- 
 ing to his hospitable proposition, otherwise than 
 by that most expressive mode — silence. " You 
 certainly have had your share, ma'am. Well, 
 I little thought, when I got the coach for you 
 that morning, that you would have put so 
 many little things in my way. There was that 
 six months' service with the French count — but 
 come, ma'am, you're just out of the night- air; 
 
HORACE VERNON. 55 
 
 taste this, it's very weak, it won't harm a 
 babby." The lady, without hesitation, took 
 the proffered tumbler, which Jabez had suf- 
 ficient discrimination to sweeten from a canister 
 in the cupboard, rather than apply to the mus- 
 tard-pot on the table. 
 
 '' Well, and how has the world used you for 
 some time past, Hunsman .p"" inquired the lady, 
 in a more familiar tone ; " have you done any 
 thing for Wal grave:" 
 
 '•' Oh, yes. Lord Walgrave is a very good 
 friend of mine,*" returned Hunsman, know- 
 ingly ; " I always settle everything for him, 
 and he never grudges the fees. But I hope 
 times have mended with you, ma'am." 
 
 '' In a trifling degree I may say they are 
 improved," returned the lady, indifferently ; 
 " and I hope now to afford an education for 
 the child — which, indeed, is the business that 
 I have with you." 
 
 " M^hy, ma'am, as to the schooling," said 
 Jabez, 
 
56 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 any child of her age. I have been paying for 
 her, at Miss Snodgrass^s, at 56, over the way, 
 who teaches everything for ninepence a week. 
 She has cost me a good deal, ma'am, I assure 
 you. But, as I said to my wife — what's the 
 use of minding a trifle out of pocket ? we shall 
 have it back again some day ; and, if not, 
 what*'s the odds ? says I ; but I knew you was 
 anxious about the child, as, indeed, your com- 
 ing here to-night proves. And here's wishing 
 your very good health, ma'am, and better 
 times to us all." And having replenished the 
 glass which his loving spouse had drained be- 
 fore she courted repose, he applied himself 
 vigorously to its contents. 
 
 " Thank you, Hunsman. Why, the feelings 
 of a mother are not to be controlled," said 
 Mrs. Miltoune, in reply to his former remark ; 
 *' and, therefore, as I observed, I am anxious 
 that the child should benefit by any alteration 
 in my circumstances, however slight ; in which 
 case, of course, your little demand shall be 
 
HORACE VERNON. 5^ 
 
 liquidated. You can bring the child to me, to- 
 morrow ; — no, I had better call for her ; for, I 
 must tell you, I have a lawyer to settle with 
 before my affairs mend." 
 
 " It isn't Robinson, is it ?" asked Hunsman, 
 indifferently. 
 
 " What made you think of him .^" said Mrs. 
 Miltoune, surprised. ' 
 
 *' I don't know, except that I had a little 
 business with him the other day," answered 
 Jabez. " I went to settle a matter with him 
 for a gentleman, and I had a hard matter to 
 do it." 
 
 "Well, I believe, I need not make it a 
 secret," returned Mrs. Miltoune ; " it is with 
 him that I have business." 
 
 " Umph ! that's curious, now, that I should 
 have guessed it," said Jabez. 
 
 *' It is rather singular," returned Mrs. Mil- 
 toune. 
 
 " Well, then, ma'am," said Jabez, " see- 
 ing that he's a d — d rogue, I think it would 
 1) 3 
 
58 HOllACE VERNON. 
 
 be quite as well that I should go along with 
 you." 
 
 ^' Our business will be strictly private,"*' re- 
 marked Mrs. Miltoune. 
 
 " Oh, yes, in course ; but I mean, to wait 
 for you,"' suggested Jabez ; " you don't know 
 but you may want me." 
 
 " True, it is possible ; at all events it will 
 do no harm," said Mrs. Miltoune, as though 
 to herself. " Very well, Hunsman, be ready 
 with the child by two o'clock to-morrow, and 
 I will call for you." 
 
 " But, ma'am," suggested Jabez — " as to 
 the child's clothes ? They are good enough 
 for her here ; but, mayhap, you may like her 
 to have a few things of a bettermost sort to 
 go with you in." 
 
 " True, Hunsman," said the lady ; " I had 
 forgotten that ; I will bring a bonnet and dress 
 for her to-morrow." Then rising, with Huns- 
 man's assistance she descended the narrow 
 staircase without accident, and wishing him 
 
HORACE VERNON. 59 
 
 good night, left the worthy and useful Jabez 
 to his own sagacious reflections upon her un- 
 expected visit. Upon his return to his apart- 
 ment, he found his friend Jeffries holding him- 
 self upright by the assistance of the mantel- 
 piece, in the same position as when he left him 
 to open the door to Mrs. Miltoune ; but he 
 now held in his hand the bottle, out of which 
 he had apparently helped himself without the 
 adventitious aid of a tumbler. 
 
 " Why, Jeffries, I thought you was asleep,^' 
 said Jabez. 
 
 " Catch a lawyer asleep that knows his 
 business,'' said Jeffries, with a drunken leer; 
 " because you're drunk, you think I am. 
 Come with her to the office to-morrow, and 
 we will see the case through. They must do 
 the thing handsome by you — never fear, al- 
 though you have made remarks against the 
 honourable profession of the law. But, never 
 mind, you're drunk, Jabez, and 1 forgive you," 
 and taking his friend's arm, he made his way 
 
60 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 to the street-door, and Jabez sought his matri- 
 monial blankets, — whither his wife had some 
 time betaken herself, and was giving audible 
 proof of the soporific quality of the " extra 
 strong.*" 
 
HORACE VERNON 61 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ' Nature herself flew back when they were born, 
 And cried, the work's not mine !" 
 
 " My business in this state 
 Made me a looker on." 
 
 The attorney who has been previously intro- 
 duced by the name of Robinson, occupied a 
 first floor in Jermyn-street, as chambers, in 
 the front room of which some half-dozen 
 clerks were variously employed, in the respec- 
 tive duties of the profession. Mr. Jeffries, 
 better known as Jack Jeffries, occupied the 
 back room'; and, in the third, or innermost 
 chamber, Mr. Robinson himself received those 
 whose business was " private and confidential."" 
 
6*2 HORACE VEllNON. 
 
 On the day following the convivial meeting 
 described in the last chapter, Mr. Jeffries was 
 seated at his writing-table, which was nearly 
 hidden with small bundles of papers, tied with 
 red tape. Before him were spread many open 
 folios, which, with pen in hand, he might have 
 been supposed to be revising or correcting, 
 but that his eyes were obviously directed to- 
 wards a small drawer immediately on his right 
 hand, in which lay, concealed from the curious, 
 the embrowned, and well-thumbed relics of a 
 romance, — the perusal of which, at the moderate 
 outlay of one penny per diem, served to refresh 
 his faculties when wearied with the severe and 
 monotonous duties of his calling. Whilst thus 
 pleasantly occupied with the exploits of witches 
 and banditti — the lawyers and conveyancers of 
 those days — a slight tap at the door, dispelling 
 the visions of careering besoms and blood- 
 stained vests, recalled him to the base realities 
 of existence. In an instant the drawer with its 
 precious contents glided into its mahogany re- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 63 
 
 cess, and the courteous Jeffries arose, having 
 first mechanically dipped his pen into the ink, 
 and with many a smirk and bow introduced 
 Mrs. Miltoune, who was followed by his con- 
 federate, Hunsman, leading the little girl. 
 
 The visit was already expected by Mr. Ro- 
 binson ; it required, therefore, but a short space 
 to announce Mrs. Miltoune's name, and usher 
 her into the presence of that respectable prac- 
 titioner. 
 
 " Now, Hunsman, we must look to business," 
 said Jeffries ; " what are we to do with the 
 child ? Oh, I have it" — and ringing the bell 
 smartly, a respectable-looking woman appeared, 
 who lived in the kitchens, and acted as house- 
 keeper. 
 
 " Take this young lady under your care, 
 Mrs. James, for a short time," said Jeffries, 
 " and amuse her as well as you can while her 
 mamma is engaged." Having thus disposed 
 of the child, the two confederates looked at 
 each other for a moment, with a comical ex- 
 
64 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 pression of expectation, as though each ex- 
 pected the other to break the ice. 
 
 " Come,"" said Jeffries, " sitting still won't do 
 much towards making us the richer. I intend 
 you to make a good morning's work : but, if 
 we don't watch the proceedings yonder," point- 
 ing to his master's room, " we shall not know 
 what they do with the plunder." 
 
 "• But how are we to watch them," asked 
 Hunsman innocently. 
 
 " Why, old fellow, you shall see," said 
 Jeffries ; "but, remember, this is your busi- 
 ness, and if you ever mention a word of — "" 
 Here he was anticipated by his companion de- 
 claring most energetically his readiness to con- 
 sign himself to the enemy of souls if ever he 
 breathed a syllable of the matter. Under this 
 assurance Jeffries skipped across the room, and 
 bolted the door ; thus making sure that no sud- 
 den interruption from that quarter should dis- 
 turb their operation. Jeffries then approached 
 the entrance to his master''s room on tip-toe. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 65 
 
 and cautiously opening the green door, applied 
 his eye to an ingenious perforation, which had 
 been effected by means of a very fine gimblet. 
 The aperture was of course very minute in the 
 interior, and was effectually protected from ob- 
 servation by the deep shadow of a projecting 
 bookcase. It was by this easy communication 
 that the confidential clerk saved his master the 
 trouble of making him acquainted with the 
 minute particulars of his supposed secret inter- 
 views with clients, the nature of whose business 
 was intended to be a mystery to all save the 
 principal himself. And it was the ability with 
 which he transacted certain portions of the 
 business of this secret service, knowing as he 
 did the whole bearing of it, which obtained for 
 him with his master the reputation of a sharp- 
 witted, clever fellow. 
 
 By the means of the railroad just indicated, 
 the right eye of Jeffries travelled to the posi- 
 tion of the parties now closeted together, and 
 
66 HOR.^CE VERNON. 
 
 having taken an ample survey, he stepped back, 
 and closed the green door. 
 
 " Now, old boy, they are just beginning 
 business,"" said he ; " the governor has unlocked 
 the case and taken out the deed. I must stand 
 between the two doors closed, that I may not 
 lose a word of what passes ; and if any one 
 knocks at the outward door, open the green 
 door cautiously, and let me know." Hunsman 
 promised to observe the directions, and the con- 
 fidential clerk took his station, and heard as 
 follows : — 
 
 " My dear m'adam,'' said Mr. Robinson, in 
 a bland and courteous tone, " none can appre- 
 ciate your maternal anxiety better than myself ; 
 indeed, as I said before, no one can be so 
 proper a guardian to the dear infant as your- 
 self." 
 
 " You have a very proper feeling, Mr. Ro- 
 binson," said Mrs. Miltoune ; ••' I must con- 
 fess that I felt more hurt than I can express, 
 at the singular want of confidence poor dear 
 
HORACE VERNON. 67 
 
 Lord Charleston evinced towards me in his lat- 
 ter moments." 
 
 '' It was singular, indeed," observed Mr. 
 Robinson. 
 
 *' Particularly when formerly there were but 
 few acts of his life that he did not consult me 
 upon; such was his reliance upon my judg- 
 ment." 
 
 " Disease, my dear madam, had made our 
 poor dear friend irritable," mildly remarked 
 the man of law ; " and, at such a moment, we 
 must rather commiserate than judge. We are, 
 the best of us even, but poor weak creatures, 
 and it is our duty to visit leniently the faults 
 of others, seeing that none of us are perfect," 
 And having uttered this truly Christian re- 
 mark, the good gentleman gravely shook his 
 head, and applied his white cambric pocket- 
 handkerchief to his nose. 
 
 " Oh, I never thought about it after the 
 first few minutes," said Mrs. Miltoune ; *' only 
 you must allow, Mr. Robinson, much as I 
 
68 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 may respect you,""* (here Mr. Robinson bowed 
 to the very table,) " that it is extremely mor- 
 tifying to be obliged to ask you for every sum 
 of money that I may have occasion for, or to 
 consult upon every change of the child's school- 
 ing." 
 
 " Why, madam, fortunately there is no oc- 
 casion that you should be under all this un- 
 pleasantness,"" observed Mr. Robinson. 
 
 " It is very kind of you, to say so,"*' re- 
 marked Mrs. Miltoune ; " and, perhaps, your 
 politeness would dispense with such constant 
 communication upon trifles ; but I am not the 
 less dependent upon you." 
 
 " As I said before, Mrs. Miltoune," said 
 Mr. Robinson, " I think every mother should 
 be the guardian of her child ; and, although I 
 could not argue the matter with our poor dear 
 friend upon his deathbed, yet, as it fortunately 
 happens that we are the only parties to the 
 business, we can perhaps make such arrange- 
 ments as may be convenient to both." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 69 
 
 "I am sure, Mr. Robinson, I did not expect 
 to find you so kind — so very kind," said Mrs. 
 Miltoune, her countenance lighting up with 
 surprise and pleasure, as she expected all the 
 advantage of the bequest, with the disagreeable 
 clog of trusteeship relinquished ; and an idea 
 hastily crossed her mind, touching the propriety 
 of presenting this most liberal-minded attorney 
 with a very handsome present. "I do assure 
 you, you will find me most grateful," she 
 added ; " and, after all, it was very hard of 
 poor dear Charleston to place me in such a 
 position ; however, I am under the greatest ob- 
 ligations to you." 
 
 " No, no, my dear madam," interrupted the 
 attorney, " this is an affair in which we may 
 be of mutual service to each other." 
 
 *' If you can point out any way in which I 
 can render you any service, in return for your 
 kindness," said Mrs. Miltoune, " I am sure I 
 shall be delighted." 
 
 " I will tell you, Mrs. Miltoune, how we 
 
70 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 may arrange this little business," said Mr. 
 Robinson, slowly, at the same time untying a 
 small bundle of papers, and arranging them 
 before him. " You see, madam, our late friend 
 has left you the sum of o^SOOO." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " And which he has clogged with the con- 
 dition of its being to be delivered to you from 
 time to time, or to be invested for your use." 
 
 "Quite absurd, Mr. Robinson," observed 
 Mrs. Miltoune, hastily ; " what would be the 
 use of such a pittance to me as the interest of 
 d£^3000. The money itself v/ould be valuable 
 to me, for certain purposes which I wish to 
 carry into effect. But you are a man of the 
 world, JMr. Robinson, and a man of sense, and 
 can perfectly comprehend my position." 
 
 "Perfectly, madam, perfectly, and it is for 
 that reason that I propose to do away with 
 these restrictions, and give you the money at 
 once," said Mr. Robinson, in the kindest pos- 
 sible tone, at the same time taking from a 
 
HORACE VERNON. 7^ 
 
 pocket-book the little silk note-case which was 
 delivered to him by the earl. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Robinson !"" exclaimed the lady, 
 a flush of delight overspreading her counte- 
 nance, '•' how shall I ever repay you this disin- 
 terested kindness ?" 
 
 " A mere trifle, madam, a mere trifle ; we 
 must all assist each other ; it is a Christian 
 duty," said the attorney, with great humility 
 of manner. " But, let me see, the money is 
 right, of course ; yes, one thousand — two thou- 
 sand — three thousand," and he spread the notes 
 temptingly before her ; " all new from the 
 Bank of England, and signed by Gibbins, a 
 most worthy man, and a client of mine. Yes ; 
 three thousand pounds in Bank of England 
 notes, — a large sum of money, indeed!" The 
 lady's eyes were rivetted upon the money, and 
 her hands open to receive it. 
 
 " Oh, you kind, good creature !" she ex- 
 claimed , enthusiastically, as the attorney slowly 
 gathered up the notes, and returned them to 
 
72 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 their former position, doubtless to hand over to 
 her. " And, with respect to the d£^200 per an- 
 num belonging to little Charlotte, of course — " 
 
 "Ah, madam!" interrupted Mr. Robinson, 
 in a deprecatory tone, and placing his two 
 fingers upon the note-case, which he held in the 
 palm of his other hand, — "now I must beg your 
 indulgence — now you have arrived at the weak 
 point — upon this I must crave your patience.*" 
 Mrs. Miltoune's colour slightly changed at 
 this ominous preface, but she awaited his con- 
 tinuation in silence, whilst he unfolded a deed. 
 At this moment, Jeffries, who had been listen- 
 ing attentively to the preceding, felt his coat 
 pulled, and supposing Hunsman had heard a 
 knock at the office-door, gently stepped from 
 his concealment. 
 
 '* Well Jack,*" said his companion, most im- 
 patiently, " you have been a precious time — 
 what is it all about ?'''^ 
 
 *^ Is that all you called me out for .^" 
 
 " In course." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 'J3 
 
 " Then keep your fingers to yourself, you 
 gallows fool," was the urbane reply of the en- 
 raged clerk ; " and if you interrupt me again, 
 I'll put my fist in your face." Hunsman looked 
 rather foolish at this friendly reproof, and the 
 angry Jeffries noiselessly regained his position. 
 
 " Yes, madam," said the attorney, who had 
 covered the table with parchments; " this, as I 
 said, is my weak point ; and I should be sorry 
 to confess so much to any other than yourself." 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir," said Mrs. 
 Miltoune, anxiously expecting the lingering 
 explanation. 
 
 " I am about to explain. — The Earl left a 
 small estate to your little daughter, known as 
 Charlotte Amelia Russell." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; a small estate in Berkshire, as I 
 understand, worth about 200/. per annum,'* 
 said Mrs. Miltoune. 
 
 '' Precisely. — Well, madam, I fear that by 
 an unfortunate error — a most unhappy blunder 
 — I have entirely invalidated this deed." 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 *' How, sir? good God!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Miltovine, turning pale : " You do not surely 
 mean to say that the deed is not good — that the 
 property is lost ? " 
 
 " It is, unhappily, too true," replied Mr. 
 Robinson, shaking his head, and evincing the 
 utmost concern. " But, my good madam, pray 
 be patient," he said, observing a storm ga- 
 thering upon the lady's brow, " I will ex- 
 plain." 
 
 " Explain, sir ! What is the use of your ex- 
 planation, if you have lost my child's property? 
 I'll have justice, sir. If the child has suffered 
 by your professional neglect, you must make it 
 good. I know an attorney who was forced to 
 make good a thousand pounds for his blunder ; 
 and you shall do the same." 
 
 " Very well, madam," returned Mr. Robin- 
 son ; " then in the mean time I will keep pos- 
 session of the three thousand pounds, to defend 
 the action you may bring against me ; " at the 
 same time replacing the silk note-case and its 
 
HORACE VERNON. 'JS 
 
 contents in his pocket-book, and putting it into 
 his pocket. 
 
 '' I'll dare you to it!'' exclaimed the lady, 
 whose face became crimson as she watched this 
 process; and little accustomed to control her 
 temper, she clenched her hand in a threatening 
 attitude at the attorney. " If you dare play 
 your tricks upon me, Mr. Robinson, I'll expose 
 you, sir: the world shall know you for a 
 rascal." 
 
 " Excuse me, madam," interposed Mr. Ro- 
 binson, very placidly ; " I cannot listen to such 
 language. By my integrity I have risen to my 
 present position, and I must not have such 
 words uttered here. If you will hear me, I 
 will explain. I have no wish to keep the three 
 thousand pounds, unless you force me. I beg 
 you will be patient." 
 
 " Well, sir, I am patient," exclaimed Mrs. 
 Miltoune ; her face still flushed, and her bosom 
 heaving with choler. 
 
 " Well, madam, you must know that on the 
 e2 
 
76 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 evening of our poor friend's death" — and here 
 the cambric handkerchief was applied to his 
 face en passant, — " he would insist that I 
 should draw the deeds myself, by way of secu- 
 rity and secrecy. Well, madam, I had the 
 precaution to take two stamps with me ; and 
 what with the poor Earl's conversation, and the 
 excitement of my own feelings, I spoiled one 
 stamp, by leaving out the child's name : in fact 
 I conveyed the estate to myself instead of the 
 child. However, I immediately rectified it 
 upon the other stamp ; but, by the most extra- 
 ordinary mistake that ever was committed, the 
 signatures were all affixed to the deed I in- 
 tended to have cancelled. Indeed, I was so 
 lost at the time by the approaching dissolution 
 of my poor dear friend and benefactor, that I 
 scarcely knew what I did. However, there 
 are the two deeds, madam, you can peruse 
 them." 
 
 "O, I don't understand the jargon, "cried Mrs. 
 Miltoune ; " it is the most extravagant tale 
 
HORACE VERNON 77 
 
 I ever heard. You may think, Mr. Robinson, 
 that because you have got a woman and a child 
 to deal with, you can do what you please, 
 but—" 
 
 " Oh ! the three thousand pounds ? — you 
 were about to inquire — ''^ interposed the at« 
 torney. 
 
 " Well, sir, and what do you propose to do?" 
 asked Mrs. Miltoune, forcing a composure she 
 did not feel — her common sense pointing out 
 that she was in the position of the ' crane with 
 its head in the wolf's jaws.' 
 
 " Why, madam, simply to make the best of 
 a most unhappy mistake, which I shall regret 
 as long as I live," said Robinson, shaking his 
 head, and applying his handkerchief, as usual — 
 " it could never have been of any benefit to 
 you, as the proceeds would have been invested 
 for the child's use, saving the bare expenses of 
 her bringing up. Now, madam, if you will 
 consent to pass over this little professional 
 blunder of mine, I will not only give over to 
 
78 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 you the three thousand pounds, but I will add 
 the further sum of five hundred pounds at the 
 end of three years, from the proceeds of the 
 estate ; which will be the utmost amount I shall 
 receive. Profit to myself, God knows, is 
 not my object in this unhappy business ;'** 
 and so saying, he again took out the pocket- 
 book. 
 
 The sight of this inviting object caused Mrs. 
 Miltoune to reflect, that had the deed been 
 legal, and the estate conveyed to the child, as 
 the attorney said, it would have been but of 
 small advantage to her personally ; whereas 
 the ready money promised would be of imme- 
 diate benefit. If the truth must be spoken, 
 the interest she took in the welfare of her child, 
 apart from her own separate advantage, was but 
 small. The fact of having left her so long in the 
 hands of strangers, argued but little maternal 
 affection ; and little even of its outward sign was 
 the poor child ever destined to know, unless 
 dictated by caprice, or vanity, or interest. In 
 
HORACE VERNON. 79 
 
 short, a very little further consideration induced 
 Mrs. Miltoune to listen to Mr. Robinson'^s apo- 
 logies for his mistake, with more complacency 
 than she could at first command. 
 
 *' Indeed, my dear madam," blandly sug- 
 gested Mr. Robinson, *' had the deed even been 
 as I could have wished it, the poor dear infant 
 would have been placed in a very trying posi- 
 tion. She would have been independent of her 
 mother; which is generally injurious to young 
 persons, and renders them impatient of parental 
 control." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mrs. Miltoune, after hav- 
 ing thought of the most advantageous terms 
 for herself, " you propose to give me ^^3500, if 
 I pass over the claim to the estate .?'' 
 
 " Precisely so ; inasmuch as the deed stand- 
 ing as it does by my unhappy blunder, the 
 estate never could be available to the child, 
 and must either be given up to the heir, or re- 
 main with me. In the latter case, I may have 
 it in my power to befriend the dear infant on 
 
80 HORACE vj:rnon. 
 
 some future occasion ; whereas, in the former 
 contingency, none of us can be gainers." 
 
 '' Come, Mr. Robinson, you will see I am not 
 very hard to deal with : — give me the money, 
 and you may do what you like with the estate,"*' 
 said Mrs. Miltoune, having succeeded in quiet- 
 ing her maternal scruples, " for I see that I 
 shall be none the richer for it : — or is there any 
 other mistake of your's to arrange ?" she added, 
 sarcastically, seeing that he hesitated. 
 
 " None whatever, madam,"" returned the man 
 of law ; '' I shall only require a slight memo- 
 randum by way of security, and the money is 
 your's."" 
 
 " Security ! what for ?" inquired the lady, 
 relapsing again into anger. 
 
 " Do not disturb yourself, madam,"" sooth- 
 ingly ejaculated Mr. Robinson ; " a mere form 
 —that's all." 
 
 "But what is it /or, sir ? What am I to 
 give security forf reiterated Mrs. Miltoune, 
 her face resuming its former glow — " you take 
 
HOKACE VERNON. 81 
 
 away the child's property, and then want se- 
 curity." 
 
 " Excuse me, madam, if you will listen for 
 one moment, you will find I am quite right."*"* 
 
 " Well, sir, I shall be glad to hear,'' said 
 the lady, beating a tattoo upon the floor with 
 her feet. 
 
 " My reputation, madam, is dearer to me 
 than profit,"*' said the attorney. 
 
 Mrs. Miltoune coughed. 
 
 " Yes, madam,"*"* continued Mr. Robinson, 
 " and the paltry value of the estate we have 
 been talking of, is nothing to me, compared 
 with my honour. God bless me! what noise 
 was that T"" 
 
 At that moment an indescribable sound 
 was heard, resembling something between a 
 laugh and a sneeze, which certainly did not pro- 
 ceed from either of the parties present. Mr. 
 Robinson looked round the room suspiciously, 
 then at Mrs. Miltoune, and then under the table, 
 but without any satisfactory result. 
 £ 3 
 
82 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 "Very extraordinary!" muttered the attor- 
 ney, and rising, he opened the doors, and cast 
 a glance around the clerk's office. Jeffries was 
 busy at his desk, and Hunsman was reading 
 the newspaper by the fire. Everything seemed 
 as usual, and Mr. Robinson returned to his 
 seat. The fact was, that our friend Jeffries 
 had gradually become so interested in the con- 
 versation proceeding between the attorney and 
 Mrs. Miltoune, that when his master spoke so 
 seriously of his " honour,'' he thought the idea 
 so exquisitely facetious, that, forgetting for a 
 moment his critical position, he could not con- 
 trol a burst of smothered merriment. Luckily, 
 however, he had plenty of time to withdraw 
 himself from the consequence of his impru- 
 dence ; though he was not a little alarmed lest 
 his secret should be suspected by his wary 
 master. 
 
 " Well, madam," resumed the attorney, hav- 
 ing re-adjusted himself, *' I was about to ex- 
 plain to you, touching the little memorandum 
 
HORACE VERNOV. 83 
 
 I required. It is simply thus — that valuing 
 my professional reputation highly — very highly 
 — I would not have it known that i had com- 
 mitted so great a blunder as this unfortunate 
 deed bears witness to. You see, madam, I am 
 candid with you. Now, madam, lest you, in 
 some moment of forgetfulness should unhappily 
 mention this circumstance, which ill-natured 
 people might speak of to my disadvantage, I 
 must place you under a slight penalty, by re- 
 questing you to give me a little document, by 
 which I may re-claim this money which I shall 
 presently hand over to you, if anything should 
 transpire of what has passed solely between 
 ourselves."" 
 
 " You need not doubt me, Mr. Robinson ; 
 I have no interest in mentioning the subject 
 again. I shall be satisfied with the money, 
 which is of more consequence to me now than 
 anything in expectancy. Make out the docu- 
 ment you speak of, and let me be gone.'" She 
 spoke those words in a sharp, abrupt tone 
 
84 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 which showed that she was but half satisfied 
 with the proceedings, but determined to have 
 the money upon any terms. Mr. Robinson 
 again took out the pocket-book, and from 
 thence the silk note-case, and selecting from 
 the papers a stamped deed, already filled up, 
 which was, in fact, nothing less than a bond for 
 the money, he tendered it for Mrs. Miltoune's 
 signature. She put her name to it without 
 further hesitation, and he then handed her over 
 the three notes of c^lOOO each. 
 
 " Well, Jeffries," said Hunsman, pressing 
 close to his friend, who had emerged from his 
 hiding-place, " have they settled it ?'' 
 
 "Oh, yes, it's all arranged," said Jeffries, de- 
 liberately stirring the fire ; " they have shared 
 it between them, as I told you." 
 
 ' • And which has got the best of it .?" asked 
 the other, rubbing his hands, with an impatient 
 gesture. 
 
 The clerk stared at him for a moment with 
 astonishment, at the simplicity of the question 
 
HORACE VERNON. 85 
 
 — "Why," he said, " the governor's got it all 
 in his own hands, in course. I can't help re- 
 specting his talents, though it may be a little 
 hard upon the young 'un ;" but seeing Huns- 
 man look black at this intelligence, he added, 
 " but you need not be down about the mat- 
 ter; she has got enough to square accounts 
 handsomely with you ; and mind, you mustn't 
 split with her for a trifle, as she can put many 
 things in your way ; therefore, be satisfied with 
 a hundred pound note for giving up the child, 
 ril tell you all about the case at the Three 
 Crowns, to-night." 
 
 Hunsman made a sign that he understood 
 his friend's hint. " And so I suppose," said 
 he, " the babby hasn't got the vally of a cheese- 
 paring .^" 
 
 " That's none of our business," returned the 
 other ; " at least, not now. But we had better 
 have her up, for they will be out in another 
 minute," and ringing the bell, the housekeeper 
 brought the child back to the office. 
 
86 HORACE VERNOW 
 
 A few minutes afterwards Mrs. Miltoune 
 made her appearance, accompanied by the at- 
 torney, who bowed her out with all imaginable 
 courtesy. Her manner was short and abrupt, as 
 though not particularly pleased with the result 
 of her interview. She scarcely took any leave 
 of the polite Mr. Robinson, but signing to 
 Hunsman to follow with the child, she left the 
 office. 
 
 The man of law retired to his own chamber, 
 and our friend Jeffries, after the lapse of a few 
 minutes, took the liberty to reconnoitre his 
 master's movements. Mr. Robinson was busily 
 engaged in cutting into small shreds one of two 
 deeds ; after which he looked over the other, 
 and folding it with the bond just signed by 
 Mrs. Miltoune, carefully deposited them in his 
 strong box. He then threw himself back in 
 his easy arm-chair, and looking cautiously 
 round his office, lifted his large green spectacles, 
 and remained for a few minutes in that quiet 
 contemplative state which one might suppose a 
 
HORACE VERNON. 87 
 
 good man would indulge in whilst reflecting on 
 the happy results likely to arise from some late 
 act of benevolence. 
 
 It will scarcely be necessary to pursue this 
 portion of our tale further than to say, that 
 little Charlotte, as she was then called, went 
 to school, and her respectable friend, Mr. 
 Hunsman, received from Mrs. Miltoune the 
 sum of dC'lOO ; though not without some re- 
 monstrance on the exorbitance of the claim, 
 for his parental superintendance of the young 
 lady during the two years she had shared 
 the comforts of his hospitable establishment. 
 The sampler, mentioned in the second chapter, 
 so inauspiciously commenced by their young 
 inmate, was finished about twelve months after, 
 by the united exertions of Mr. Hunsman's 
 smiling helpmate, and a charity child, whom 
 that exemplary woman had engaged to assist 
 her in her household duties, at the rate of 
 sixpence a week and her '' meals."" This rare 
 example of female ingenuity was duly framed 
 
88 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 and glazed, and presented by Mrs. Hunsman 
 to " old Johnson," as he was familiarly termed 
 by his more intimate associates, as a testimony 
 of her grateful recollection of his many kind- 
 nesses, and much forbearance, during the years 
 she reigned Queen of the tap and parlour at 
 his hospitable establishment. Those who are 
 particularly curious in such matters may yet 
 inspect it, over the mantel-piece in the parlour 
 of the Three Crowns in Red Lion-street. 
 
Hon ACE VERNON. 89 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Where is the world of ten years past ? — 'Twas there — 
 I look for it — 'tis gone !" 
 
 " Thou thread, thou thimble, 
 Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail, 
 Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket, thou : — 
 Braved in my own house by a skein of thread l" 
 
 The best apartments of one of the very best 
 houses in St. James's-place were occupied by 
 Lord Walgrave, the eldest son of a peer, and a 
 colonel in the third regiment of guards. He 
 was a handsome man, though his features might 
 be thought somewhat too effeminate ; his age 
 about thirty years, and his height barely reach- 
 ing what is called the " middle size." His man- 
 ners were those of one to whom the best society 
 is familiar : he was courteous to all, and as- 
 
90 HORACE VERXON. 
 
 sumed no superiority but that with which 
 nature and education had gifted him. Never- 
 theless, with a mind highly cultivated, and 
 superior natural talents, his uncontrolled habits 
 of dissipation, and his reckless expenditure, 
 added to fondness for play, were gradually un- 
 dermining both health and fortune ; and his ge- 
 nerous and honourable feelings were fast giving 
 way, before the means he was compelled to 
 adopt, to extricate himself from difficulties 
 brought on by debasing pursuits. Such was 
 the nobleman we are about to introduce to the 
 reader. It was past mid-day, and Lord Wal- 
 grave was reclining listlessly in his large arm- 
 chair, with the untouched breakfast-things upon 
 the table. At his elbow were an empty soda- 
 water bottle, and a liqueur bottle of brandy. 
 His languid eye and pallid countenance be- 
 trayed the nature of his entertainment of the 
 preceding evening. 
 
 "Jackson, my good fellow," said his lord- 
 ship, as his valet entered the apartment, " you 
 
HORACE VERNON. 91 
 
 have undertaken a situation for which you are 
 totally unfit/' 
 
 *•' My lord, I am very sorry — " 
 
 " I mean to say that the duties of my situa- 
 tion are peculiar, and require a tact which you 
 do not possess — that of civilly dismissing per- 
 sons whose presence is disagreeable." 
 
 " My lord, during the time I have been in 
 your lordship's service I have endeavoured—"*' 
 
 " Ah, you have endeavoured ! There it is, 
 my good fellow ; don't you see that your talent 
 does not lie that way ? Thefe was your pre- 
 decessor, Roberts, whom I was foolish enough 
 to part with to oblige a young friend — he was 
 the pearl of servants : during the whole time 
 he was with me, the voice of a creditor was 
 never heard ; the cries of the industrious never 
 reached me then ; but now ! — " and he lifted 
 his hands with a most rueful expression of dis- 
 appointment and vexation. 
 
 " My lord, if you mean this morning,'"' said 
 the valet, '^ 1 really believe there has been a 
 
92 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 conspiracy ; no less than fifteen people have 
 been here for their accounts, and were quite 
 clamorous." 
 
 '' Now I will tell you, Jackson, what I 
 should have done in your place," said his lord- 
 ship ; " I should have tied an old glove round 
 the knocker, and declared my master to be 
 dangerously ill ; for really, to be roused in the 
 middle of the night by the clamour of creditors, 
 is truly barbarous — fatal alike to health and 
 comfort." 
 
 " You may rely on it, my lord, that I will 
 manage better another time," replied the valet ; 
 " but I am almost ashamed to tell your lord- 
 ship that one man remains below in the hall, 
 and declares he will wait there till your lord- 
 ship goes out." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! and who may he be ? 
 
 " Mr. Schneider, my lord, your German 
 tailor." 
 
 " Ah ! then in that case, show him up, 
 Jackson ; I will answer him myself," said 
 
HORACE VERNON. 93 
 
 Lord Walgrave ; " but stay, place my fencing 
 foils upon the table, a couple of sabres, and 
 my case of pistols. There, now bring me my 
 flannel jacket and pumps : there, now let the 
 tailor come up/* 
 
 Whilst Jackson went to introduce the 
 tailor, Lord Walgrave divested himself of his 
 flowered silk dressing-gown and furred slip- 
 pers, and putting on the jacket and pumps, 
 took one of the foils, and commenced prac- 
 tising, by *' lunging"" against the wall of his 
 apartment. Presently Mr. Schneider made 
 his appearance. He was a little, sallow old 
 man, and, as he entered the room, appeared as 
 though he had almost repented of his temerity, 
 when he found himself in the presence of the 
 nobleman upon whom he had thus thrust him- 
 self. The determination he had shown to the 
 valet, gave way to his natural obsequiousness of 
 deportment, and he stood within a foot of the 
 door, fidgetting with his hat, whilst Lord Wal- 
 grave continued his practice, taking no more 
 notice of him than if he had been a ninepin. 
 
94 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " One — two — ha ! one — two — good I"' and 
 after some little time pursuing this occupation, 
 his lordship threw himself into a chair to re- 
 cover his breath, and then cast his eyes, as 
 though accidentally, upon the tailor. 
 
 " Ah, Schneider, is that you ? what can I do 
 for you, eh ? do you want a frank ? you see 
 I'm a little busy." 
 
 " Mi lord, I take de liberty to call—'' 
 
 " Ah, I see ; — no, I do not want anything, 
 that I know of, Schneider, but I may call some 
 day this week," and his lordship resumed his 
 foils: "one — two — ha! capital. You may go, 
 Schneider." 
 
 " Mi lord, I take de liberty — "' again com- 
 menced the tailor, most humbly. 
 
 " Ah, by the way, Schneider," interrupted 
 his lordship, " stay a moment — you may do me 
 a service— a lucky thought." 
 
 " Any ting, mi lord, dat I can do, I am 
 sure — " 
 
 " You see, I've an affair upon my hands, 
 
HORACE VERSION. 95 
 
 Schneider ; — a few words with a French noble- 
 man last night, and he insists upon going out 
 with swords. Now, as I am a little out of 
 practice, you are come in the very nick of time, 
 to give me a few hints. Jackson, hand Mr. 
 Schneider a foil." ' 
 
 " Oh I mi lord," cried the German, aghast 
 at the proposition, " I never tush a sword in 
 all my life ; I am ver sorry — " 
 
 " What ! a German, and not know how to 
 handle the small-sword.^ did ever raian hear 
 such nonsense ? Jackson, hand a foil imme- 
 diately—I'll take no excuse." 
 
 " Mi lord ! mi lord ! I do assure your lord- 
 ship — "" commenced the German, in vain en- 
 deavouring to excuse himself, after Jackson 
 had unceremoniously thrust the foil into his 
 hand. ' 
 
 " Now, don't be afraid, the foils are well 
 buttoned." 
 
 ' Ah, mi lord ! I do assure your lordship—" 
 again began the tailor, with a most pitiful ex- 
 
96 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 pression of countenance, and holding the wea- 
 pon as if it were a yard measure. 
 
 " Nonsense, Schneider, you are too modest. 
 Now, stand to your guard ; carte over the arm ; 
 one, two ! there you have it V^ 
 
 " Oh ! mi lord ! ah ! I never tush — ha !" 
 
 *'One— two— ha!^' 
 
 " Ha ! mine Got ! ha !" 
 
 "One — two — there, button-hole — hit again, 
 by Jupiter !" 
 
 " Oh ! der divel ! mi lord ! mi lord !"" cried 
 the German, covering his stomach with his left 
 hand. 
 
 "One — two! fifth rib I had you again — 
 capital hit that !" 
 
 " Ah, mi lord — grace I oh ! pray, mi lord — " 
 
 " One — two ! tierce under the arm ; there 
 you caught it ; well buttoned foils, or you had 
 been a slaughtered tailor !" 
 
 " Ah ! donder en hlit%en ! oh ! mi lord ! 
 mine poor side ! ah !" 
 
 " One — two ! touched your neck, egad ! take 
 
HOEACE VERNON. 97 
 
 care of your eyes, Schneider ; a friend of mine 
 lost his sight." 
 
 "Ah ! mine Got ! mi lord ! ten tousand 
 divels !" and, in an agony of fear, he threw 
 away the foil, and clasping his hands together, 
 cried out most piteously for mercy. 
 
 " Why, Schneider, my good friend, how's 
 this ?" said Lord Walgrave, affecting the 
 greatest surprise, though scarcely able to re- 
 frain from laughing, whilst Jackson was stuff- 
 ing a handkerchief in his mouth, to prevent an 
 unseemly exhibition of mirth. "Ah, I see, 
 you conceal your skill — you fear to hurt me."" 
 
 " No, no, mi lord ; I assure you, I never 
 tush de small sword in all mine life ; I beg 
 you excuse me." 
 
 " Ah, what a mistake I have been making 
 all this time ! I recollect now," said his lord- 
 ship, " you Germans are all so fond of the 
 sabre. Hand Mr. Schneider a sabre, Jack- 
 son." 
 
 " Ah, mi lord ! mi lord !" screamed the 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 German, alarmed beyond measure at this new 
 proposition. 
 
 " Rather dangerous practice, though,"*' con- 
 tinued the nobleman, without heeding the de- 
 precatory gestures of the tailor. " Just pass 
 your fingers across the edge of that blade 
 Schneider — it will do you good.'"* 
 
 " Ah, I pray you, my lord ! I never 
 tush—" 
 
 *' It belonged to a friend of mine, at Water- 
 loo ; it cut through a Frenchman's body at 
 one sheer ! The marks of the blood still re- 
 main." 
 
 " Ha ! mine Got ! Mi lord, I do assure 
 your lordship, I never tush — ^" 
 
 " Now, Schneider, stand to your guard. I'll 
 endeavour not to wound you — at least not se- 
 verely." 
 
 ••' Ah, mi lord, impossible ! you have broke 
 all my ribs !" and no entreaty could prevail 
 upon the tailor to touch the sabre. He re- 
 solutely thrust his hands in his pockets, re- 
 
HORACE VERNON, 99 
 
 fused the smallest trial of skill, and looked 
 most earnestly around. 
 
 *' What are you looking for, Schneider ?'' 
 asked Lord Walgrave, making his weapon 
 whistle through the air, with the dexterity of 
 a master ; " is it the sabre you want ?" 
 
 " No, no, mi lord," cried the terrified trades- 
 man, " I look for my hat;'' and having secured 
 the stray chapeau^ which had been kicked into 
 a corner, he made a rush at the door. 
 
 "But, Schneider, stay a moment," cried Lord 
 Walgrave, " your account is not arranged, you 
 know." 
 
 " Anoder time, my lord — anoder time," cried 
 the German, who was already in the passage. 
 
 " I'm ready now, Schneider," said Lord Wal- 
 grave, calling after him — " one, two — a good 
 hit ; you had better come back, Schneider." 
 
 " No, mi lord, I tank you ; anoder time," 
 
 cried the German, who was half way down 
 
 stairs — "anoder time, mi lord, when you have 
 
 no French gentilman to kill — no littel affair on 
 
 F 2 
 
100 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 your hand !" and, pursued by the everlasting 
 " One — two!" the tailor made but three steps 
 into the street, nor did he fancy himself in 
 security till he heard the street-door close after 
 him. 
 
 " Well, Jackson, is the tailor dispatched ?'* 
 said Lord Walgrave, as he threw himself into 
 his chair, and indulged in an unconstrained fit 
 of mirth, which was echoed, though more mo- 
 derately, by his valet. 
 
 " Yes, my lord, he ran from the door as 
 though the house was on fire,""* replied the 
 valet. 
 
 " When Schneider calls again, Jackson/' said 
 his master, " remember that I have another 
 French ' gentilman' to kill — another ' littel ' 
 affair." 
 
 " Yes, my lord. Til take care to remind 
 him," said the valet ; " but I forgot to men- 
 tion, my lord, that a gentleman has called 
 twice this morning, but begged you might, on 
 no account, be disturbed ;" and he handed his 
 
HORACE VERNON. 101 
 
 master a card, which, having glanced at, his 
 lordship said — 
 
 " Ah, my old friend, Hopwood ! let him 
 come up, by all means, if he calls again. I've 
 owed him <£*100 these two years, and he never 
 hints at payment. I think the sight of me is 
 an equivalent. Let the good man pay himself 
 by all means — it is but fair, if he is satisfied 
 with such convenient coin. Egad ! if all cre- 
 ditors were as praiseworthy, I would hold a 
 levee every morning, and, in about a month, I 
 should not owe a sixpence. By the way, Jack- 
 son, did that fellow who left the note the other 
 day, Hunsman, say anything to you of his 
 mistress .?" 
 
 " Nothing whatever, my lord," replied the 
 valet. 
 
 " Good ! you may go." 
 
 At this moment a gentle knock was heard at 
 the street-door, as if the individual who had 
 taken the knocker in his hand had let it slip 
 through his fingers in fear. 
 
102 HOllACE VERNON. 
 
 " I think that is the gentleman's knock, my 
 lord," observed the valet. 
 
 " Tell him I shall be happy to see him,'" 
 said his lordship ; " and give me some break- 
 fast, for the exercise with the tailor has given 
 me an appetite." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 103 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " You are meek, and humble-mouth'd ; 
 You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, 
 With meekness and humility ; but your heart 
 Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride." 
 
 " Brutus is an honourable man, 
 So are they all, all honourable men." 
 
 Jackson lost no time in introducing Mr 
 Hop wood. He was a man of about sixty years 
 of age, short of stature, and his sleek and 
 rotund appearance argued his familiarity with 
 the good things of this world. He had the 
 good-humoured, though self-satisfied expres- 
 sion of countenance peculiar to the successful 
 tradesman ; although, on the present occasion, 
 his downcast eyes, and half-inclined form, 
 evinced a deep respect for the presence he 
 was in — it might, indeed, be called humility. 
 
104 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " All, my dear Hopwood, is that you ?*" ex- 
 claimed Lord Walgrave, smiling a welcome to 
 his visitor; '' I am delighted to see you, my 
 respectable friend. How is it that you so sel- 
 dom call ? you know I am always at home to 
 you." Mr. Hopwood hardly knew where he 
 was, so much was he bewildered at the young 
 nobleman's condescending expressions of re- 
 gard towards him. His only refuge seemed 
 to be in bowing ; he bowed most humbly to 
 Lord Walgrave ; he bowed to Jackson, who 
 hastened to take his hat ; he bowed all round, 
 and slided rather than stepped upon the carpet, 
 as if he thought the material too aristocratic 
 to be pressed rudely by plebeian foot ; all the 
 time uttering by syllables — 
 
 " Oh ! my lord — your condescension — I'm 
 sure — for my part — " 
 
 " Sit down, Hopwood, sit down, my good 
 friend," said his lordship; "Jackson, reach 
 my friend, Mr. Hopwood, a chair.'' 
 " Oh, my lord, I'm sure — " 
 
HORACE VERNON. 105 
 
 " Do you know, Hop wood, I was just then 
 speaking of you," continued the nobleman ; 
 " Jackson informed me that you had called 
 here twice this morning, and I was giving it 
 him soundly for allowing you to go away ; he 
 ought to have called me." 
 
 " Oh, my lord, I would not on any account 
 that Mr. Jackson should have disturbed you 
 on my account,"" said the delighted Hopwood ; 
 " I should never have forgiven myself." 
 
 " Servants ought to have discrimination, my 
 dear Hopwood,'' said Lord Walgrave; " when 
 a real friend does me the favour to call upon 
 me — one like yourself, Hopwood, whom I see 
 so seldom — I have no notion of his being sent 
 away like a common acquaintance.'' 
 
 " Indeed, my lord, it was my own fault," 
 murmured the enraptured Hopwood, upon 
 whom the accents of the nobleman fell as sweet 
 as honey-dew ; " I was much too soon — your 
 lordship must not blame Mr. Jackson ; but 
 really, living constantly in the country, causes 
 F 3 
 
106 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 one entirely to forget the hours and habits of 
 town." 
 
 " What, living in the country, eh .?" said 
 the nobleman, with feigned interest ; " retired 
 from business, I suppose ?" 
 
 '' Yes, my lord," answered his visitor ; " four 
 years, come next Christmas, that I have left 
 business." 
 
 " And in what pleasant place have you fixed 
 your abode ?'^ inquired Lord Walgrave. 
 
 " At Egham, my lord, where I have a very 
 pleasant little box, I assure your lordship," 
 replied Mr. Hop wood, becoming gradually 
 more at home, from the encouraging attentions 
 of his noble host. 
 
 " Egham ! Egham ! let me see — do I know 
 Egham, Jackson ?" said his lordship, as if 
 endeavouring to recal it to his mind. 
 
 " It is close by Englefield Green, my lord," 
 answered the valet. 
 
 " It almost joins it, Mr. Jackson," remarked 
 Mr. Hopwood. 
 
HORACE VERNON. lOj 
 
 '^ Exactly so, sir," answered the valet, re- 
 spectfully. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ; I have been at Englefield 
 Green two or three times," said Lord Wal- 
 grave, " but it was always at night, and I did 
 not remember the locality." 
 
 " My lord, it lies in the direction of Hyde 
 Park Corner — Kensington — Hammersmith — 
 Turnham Green — Brentford — " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! thank you, I remember it 
 now," answered his lordship, laughing ; " you 
 are as good as a map, Hopwood. A lady of 
 my acquaintance lived there, in the house which 
 was formerly my friend, Lord Beverley's ; — 
 Mrs. Miltoune— do you know her .?" 
 
 " Only by name, my lord," answered Mr. 
 Hopwood ; '' but her daughter by a former 
 marriage. Miss Agnes Graham, is frequently 
 at my house." 
 
 " Oh, indeed !" 
 
 " Yes, my lord. She was a great friend of 
 my daughter's, at school ; she seems a pleasant. 
 
108 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 unassuming young lady, and of course I am 
 always glad to see her." 
 
 '* Truly, truly ; but talking with you, Hop- 
 wood, I have quite forgotten to ask you to take 
 a lunch ; bring a knife and fork, Jackson," 
 said his lordship. 
 
 " My lord, I do assure you I don't require 
 anything; the pleasure of seeing your lord- 
 ship—" 
 
 " Oh, if you are from the country this morn- 
 ing, you must have an appetite," said Lord 
 Walgrave ; " try that pate de fois gras ; it 
 was given me by the Prussian minister ; it 
 was made for the King of Prussia's own table." 
 Hopwood gazed on the savoury viand with a 
 reverence which seemed to imply that the bare 
 thought of his approaching it with a knife and 
 fork would have been little short of sacrilege. 
 
 " Don't be afraid of it, Hopwood," said 
 Lord Walgrave, as he observed his guest's 
 hesitation ; for he balanced the silver fork on 
 his finger, as if he was ascertaining the weight 
 
HORACE VERNON. 109 
 
 of it. "Jackson, help my friend Mr. Hop- 
 wood to a little of that pate'' 
 
 " Oh, my lord, you do me too much ho- 
 nour."" 
 
 " And what wine will you take, Hop wood ? 
 a glass of sherry ? or, stay, I have some ma- 
 deira that once belonged to George the Fourth, '"' 
 said his lordship ; " fetch a bottle, Jackson." 
 
 " Oh, my lord, you quite distress me," eja- 
 culated Hopwood, who felt himself elevated to 
 such an unnatural height, that he most assur- 
 edly would have bobbed his head had he been 
 entering the great gate of St. Paul's. 
 
 " Why, Hopwood, I don't give that wine to 
 everybody ; but to a friend, you know," said 
 Lord Walgrave, significantly. "But you have 
 daughters, eh ?" 
 
 " One daughter, an only child, my lord,'' 
 answered Mr. Hopwood. 
 
 " Really ; and what age is she, pray T'' in- 
 quired the nobleman. 
 
 " Just seventeen, my lord." 
 
110 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Ah, indeed, a most interesting age, friend 
 Hop wood ; and is she pretty ?" 
 
 " Why, my lord, our friends consider her 
 remarkably pretty," answered Hopwood, with 
 paternal pride ; " but parents, my lord, are 
 easily flattered."" 
 
 " Not always, Hopwood, not always," an- 
 swered his lordship ; " but it is time you be- 
 gan to think of a suitable match for her."" 
 
 " Oh, ray lord, she is a child, a mere child, 
 I assure you," replied the father ; " she thinks 
 more of a skipping-rope and a kitten, than a 
 lover.*" 
 
 " At seventeen, too ! she must be a marvel," 
 said Lord Walgrave. 
 
 " Why, I may say that she is, my lord," 
 continued Hopwood ; " there are few girls like 
 her ; she is innocence itself, my lord ; imagine 
 a sheet of the whitest writing-paper, and you 
 see the mind of my Georgina." 
 
 " A flattering picture, indeed, friend Hop- 
 wood," said Lord Walgrave, smiling ; " ha ! 
 
HORACE VERNON. Ill 
 
 ha ! ha ! innocence in petticoats ! — good. But, 
 my good friend, here is a young lady who, by 
 your description, would grace any circle. Now, 
 I'll be bound you can give her <£^50,000 on her 
 marriage day .?" 
 
 " Why, my lord, I think I could manage 
 that, or a trifle more, without much inconve- 
 nience," said the ex-man of business, in the 
 conscious pride of wealth. 
 
 " Well, then, my friend Hopwood, you 
 must look out for a match which will elevate 
 her in the world, and advance your own posi- 
 tion," said Lord Walgrave. 
 
 " Oh, my lord, I should never think of look- 
 ing beyond my own sphere," humbly responded 
 Mr. Hopwood. 
 
 " That is your modesty, Hopwood," said 
 the nobleman ; " you are wrong ; it is your 
 duty to your child and yourself." 
 
 " Oh, my lord, it is not possible for me to 
 think of such honour," answered Mr. Hopwood, 
 putting aside his knife and fork, and gazing 
 
112 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 Steadfastly in his plate, as if overwhelmed 
 at the bare idea of allying himself with no- 
 bility. 
 
 '' You are mistaken, Hop wood,"' answered 
 the nobleman ; " look at myself, for example, 
 — of course I only place myself as an example, 
 to illustrate what I am about to say.*' 
 
 " Oh, my lord, of course ; your lordship is 
 so kind — " 
 
 " Well, now, I have some thought of retiring 
 from the army, and marrying ; and, do you 
 think I should care whether the lady I made 
 choice of was of a noble family, provided she 
 was respectable, and had means ? certainly not. 
 Supposing I were to marry your daughter — of 
 course, supposing,**"* said his lordship, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, my lord, could I presume ?" muttered 
 the astounded Hop wood. 
 
 " Well, supposing, as I said," continued his 
 lordship, " what should I do ? why, pass you 
 into one of my father's boroughs, and re- 
 commend you to my friend, Lord Melbourne, 
 
HORACE VERNON. 113 
 
 for a baronetcy. Sir Simon Hop wood, Bart., 
 
 Member for ; what do you think of 
 
 that, old friend, eh ? Is it not worth trying 
 for ? such things are to be had ;" and he fami- 
 liarly touched his friend Hopwood, with one 
 finger, on the shoulder. 
 
 The little eyes of the retired jeweller glistened 
 like two paste knee-buckles; there was a tre- 
 mulous convulsive twitching observable in his 
 fingers, and he gradually drew up his feet till 
 they were completely tucked under his chair. 
 The vision of greatness thus conjured up by 
 his noble entertainer, had completely bewildered 
 him. He beheld in the perspective a long line 
 of coronets, under which the arms of the Hop- 
 woods might be quartered with some illustrious 
 house; and his eye furtively glanced at the 
 coronet and crest emblazoned upon the plate 
 which glittered around him upon the table. 
 
 " Well, my friend Hopwood, what are you 
 thinking of, eh .^" asked Lord Walgrave, after 
 he had allowed his guest to ponder some mi- 
 
114 
 
 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 nutes on his suggestion. " Do you think my 
 plan a good one, eh ?" 
 
 " Sir Simon Hop wood, Bart. !" unconsciously 
 muttered the retired man of business. 
 
 "And why not .^'" said his lordship; ''it 
 sounds as well as many of greater pretensions.'''* 
 
 " Oh, my lord, I beg you ten thousand par- 
 dons," said the confused Hop wood ; "I really 
 forgot at the moment ; but your lordship is so 
 kind and condescending — " 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! my friend, never think of it," 
 said his lordship ; " we will talk further of 
 this matter, never fear. Til put you in a train 
 — you must come some day and dine with me." 
 
 " Oh, my lord, if it ever were in my power 
 to acknowledge such kindness,'*'* faltered the 
 bewildered Hopwood. 
 
 " And now, my good friend," said the noble- 
 man, " we will, if you please, talk of other 
 business. I think, if I remember rightly, that 
 I am your debtor for some small amount." 
 
 " Oh, I hope your lordship has not such an 
 
HORACE VERNON. 115 
 
 opinion of me. as to fancy, for a moment, that 
 my visit had any such object," said Mr. Hop- 
 wood, with the utmost concern depictured in 
 his countenance. 
 
 " No, no, by no means,*" said Lord Wal- 
 grave; "but, really, it is time it was settled, 
 and—" 
 
 " Pray, ray lord, do not mention a word of 
 it," interposed Hopwood, " there are more 
 suitable times ; you will really hurt my feel- 
 ings." 
 
 " Well, well, I would not do that, my good 
 friend," returned his lordship, " but this morn- 
 ing has been quite devoted to business ; just 
 before you came I had quite a levee. I think 
 I must have settled every account I had, eh, 
 Jackson .^" he said to the valet, who had just 
 entered to take the breakfast things. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, my lord," responded the 
 valet ; " I believe the German gentleman was 
 the last you paid in full. Here is a letter for 
 your lordship," he said, handing a pink enve- 
 
116 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 lope to his master, upon a salver. '' Hunsman 
 brought it, my lord, and waits below for an 
 answer."" 
 
 " A letter ! Hunsman ! eh !" ejaculated his 
 lordship, taking the letter. 
 
 *' My lord, I fear I intrude," said Mr. Hop- 
 wood, rising ; " you have business.'"* 
 
 " On no account, Hopwood ; a mere trifle," 
 said his lordship, taking his guest in the most 
 friendly manner by the arm, and replacing him 
 on his seat. "I see you so seldom, that I can- 
 not afford to part with you so soon. With 
 your leave I will just see what this note con- 
 tains." 
 
 " Pray, my lord, consider me as nobody," 
 said the humble-minded Hopwood. 
 
 " Ah, I see," said his lordship, reading the 
 enclosure, which was as follows : — 
 
 "Dear Walgrave, — 
 " Can you contrive to run down on Thursday 
 night .^ A few friends will be here. I wish 
 
HORACE VERNON. 117 
 
 to introduce a person to you who may prove 
 useful. Yours, 
 
 " Eliza Miltoune. 
 " Englefield Green." 
 
 " Ah, you see, my friend Hopwood," con- 
 tinued Lord Walgrave, folding the letter, 
 " these are the evils of having young, extra- 
 vagant acquaintances. Here is a note from a 
 young fellow, of family, requesting me to send 
 him, by bearer, i^200. -Three or four times 
 I have obliged him in this manner. It is true 
 he returns it, and he is a man of such con- 
 nexions that I am anxious to oblige him. But 
 really, after settling all these accounts, I have 
 scarcely .^'^lOO note left. Bring me my writing- 
 case, Jackson ; I must make an excuse. Don't 
 disturb yourself, Hop wood, I shall not be an 
 instant."*'' 
 
 Whilst Jackson was bringing the writing 
 materials, the ex-man of business was fidget- 
 ting in his chair, and the working of his coun- 
 
118 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 tenance betrayed some important project pro- 
 ceeding within his mind. At length, just as 
 Lord Walgrave was putting pen to paper, he 
 broke the ice. " Might I interrupt you for 
 one moment, my lord ?" he said, in a tone of 
 the most marked respect. " If I may take the 
 liberty, without giving your lordship any of- 
 fence — I assure you I don't intend any dis- 
 respect — " 
 
 " Speak out, Hopwood," said his lordship, 
 looking up from the writing-case, *' we are all 
 friends — you need not fear to speak your 
 mind." 
 
 " Why, my lord, I was thinking," said 
 Hopwood, apparently afraid of proceeding ; 
 " Will your lordship do me a most particular 
 favour .?'' 
 
 " Nothing would please me more," returned 
 Lord Walgrave, smiling ; " what can I oblige 
 you in ?"" 
 
 '* My lord, you will oblige me materially," 
 said Mr. Hopwood, most seriously, " if you 
 
HORACE VEllNON. 119 
 
 will allow me to be your banker on this occa- 
 sion. By so doing you will be able to oblige 
 your friend, and me too." 
 
 " Oh, my dear fellow, impossible ; parti- 
 cularly obliged to you, nevertheless," said his 
 lordship, shaking his guest warmly by the 
 hand ; " God bless my heart ! why, I owe you 
 I don't know how much already." 
 
 " Pray, my lord, don''t mention such a trifle." 
 said Hopwood, earnestly, " and really, my lord, 
 between friends, if I may take the liberty of 
 saying so — " 
 
 " The liberty !" repeated the nobleman ; 
 " I am proud to acknowledge so respectable a 
 friend as yourself; but as to accepting your 
 very kind offer — " 
 
 " Indeed, my lord, if you do not grant me 
 this favour," said Hopwood, as anxiously as 
 if his life depended on it, "I shall think you 
 consider me quite unworthy of your confidence 
 and esteem." 
 
 " Ah, Hopwood, there you have me ; you 
 
120 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 are a rogue; you know I cannot withstand 
 that,*" cried Lord Walgrave, as if sensibly 
 touched with his friend's remark. " Give me 
 the money ; if it were double as much, I could 
 not refuse it under such circumstances.''' 
 
 "Oh, my lord, you are too kind," cried the 
 enraptured man of money. And never did 
 Israelite tell his usurious gain with such trem- 
 bling delight as that which possessed our re- 
 tired tradesman, as he wrote a cheque for <£*200, 
 and respectfully handed it over to his noble 
 friend. Indeed, to such an extent had the 
 noble lord won upon him, that had it been 
 half his fortune, Hopwood would have been 
 perfectly unsuspicious of design. As it was, 
 the young nobleman placed the cheque beside 
 him on the table, and turning to him with a 
 gracious smile, that went to his heart, said, in 
 the blandest and most benignant tone — 
 
 " Now, my dear Hopwood, this is very kind 
 and well-meant of you ; but, indeed, you must 
 not place me in such embarrassing situations. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 121 
 
 If I dislike one thing more than another, it is 
 pecuniary obligation to friends. But, however, 
 for once, rather than hurt your feelings — by 
 the way, I had better give you some little slip 
 of acknowledgment, eh ?" 
 
 '' Oh, by no means, my lord," answered 
 Hopwood, as if quite shocked at the proposi- 
 tion ; " it is not at all necessary/' 
 
 " Why, I think so myself, as it is between 
 friends," returned the nobleman, placing a 
 particular stress upon the latter word ; *' so I 
 will just finish my note, and dispatch the mes- 
 senger." 
 
 Mr. Hopwood bowed most reverentially, and 
 Lord Walgrave finished his note, which we 
 will take the liberty to transcribe. 
 
 " Dear Eliza, — 
 '' I will endeavour to be with you on Thursday 
 evening. Your's, 
 
 " Walgrave. 
 " St. James* s-place." 
 
 VOL. T. G 
 
122 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 This laconic epistle he placed in an envelope, 
 and the cheque in another. 
 
 " Jackson, tell Hunsman to come up,"" said 
 his lordship. 
 
 A gentle knock at the door announced the 
 messenger. His lordship rose himself, and 
 opened the door. The same set of hard fea- 
 tures made their appearance, which we formerly 
 described at an evening convivial meeting with 
 Jeffries, the attorney's clerk; though it will be 
 necessary to mention, that many years had 
 elapsed since that jovial time, which, indeed, 
 will be more distinctly seen in another chapter. 
 The only difference perceptible in the respect- 
 able Hunsman was, that his shoulders were a 
 little more round than formerly, and the short 
 black hair which was combed in so unpretend- 
 ing a manner over his forehead, had now as- 
 sumed something of a grisly hue. 
 
 " Ah, Hunsman, my man, is that you ?'''' his 
 lordship kindly greeted the ex-functionary. 
 
 " Hope your lordship's well,*" responded 
 
HORACE VERNON. 123 
 
 that respectable individual, jerking his hand 
 
 to the place where the brim of his hat was 
 
 usually to be found. 
 > 
 " This is the answer to your — to the letter 
 
 you brought,'' said his lordship ; " be careful 
 of it, good Hunsman, and give my best re- 
 spects." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said Hunsman ; " shall I 
 say to — " 
 
 " There, there, you need say no more," in- 
 terrupted his lordship, quickly ; " take care of 
 what I have given you — it is of consequence" — 
 and, closing the door. Lord Walgrave resumed 
 his seat. 
 
 It may be as well to mention that the letter 
 Hunsman received such strict charge with, was 
 merely the enclosure containing the few words 
 we have copied above ; that which contained 
 the more imposing superscription of " pay the 
 bearer .£'200," was safely deposited in the re- 
 cess of his lordship's breast pocket. The good 
 Hopwood, the while, was gazing steadfastly at 
 G 2 
 
124 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 the polished steel fender, and his prolific ima- 
 gination was shaping on its surface coronets of 
 all degrees, and caps of maintainance. 
 
 " Bless me !" exclaimed his lordship, looking 
 at the clock on the mantel-piece, as he threw 
 himself into his chair, " I declare it is three 
 o'clock ; I had no notion of the hour ; — but time 
 does pass with friends."' 
 
 " Oh, my lord, I am sure I must have tres- 
 passed,*" stammered his guest, aroused from 
 his magnificent contemplation. 
 
 " Not at all ; I'm greatly obliged to you, 
 Hop wood, for such a friendly call," said his 
 lordship, with much warmth of manner. ••' I 
 trust that for the future we shall not be such 
 strangers. You must come and dine with me, 
 as I said ; and, in the mean time, I shall look 
 in upon you at your country box, and pay my 
 respects to your wife and charming daughter.'" 
 Mr. Hopwood was upon his legs, and bowing 
 his acknowledgments for every gracious word. 
 '* But I declare," continued his lordship, in 
 
HORACE VERNON. 125 
 
 the same breath, " I quite forgot to inquire 
 after Mrs. Hop wood, I was so interested in 
 our conversation about your charming girl " 
 
 " My lord, you are so very condescending," 
 repeated Mr. Hop wood ; "if your lordship 
 should give my humble cottage the honour of 
 a visit, I shall be proud to introduce my wife 
 to your lordship's notice. She is, I assure 
 your lordship, a most estimable mother, and, 
 as a wife, I declare to your lordship I don't 
 know her equal — she cannot bear me out of her 
 sight !" 
 
 " A perfect treasure ! a perfect treasure !" 
 exclaimed the nobleman; "really, Hopwood, 
 your family quite interests me ; trust me, I 
 shall be with you in a few days ; I shall not 
 be easy till I make their acquaintance." 
 
 " My lord, I assure you, you make me the 
 happiest of men." 
 
 " At Egham, you said .?" continued his lord- 
 ship, ringing the bell. 
 
 " Precisely so, my lord." 
 
126 HOEACE VERNON. 
 
 " I shall have no difficulty in finding you ?" 
 
 "Oh, no, my lord, I flatter myself there are 
 few people in Egham but know the name of 
 Hopwood ; indeed, my duties as a magistrate, 
 and the interest I take in parish affairs to pre- 
 serve us from radical domination, make me 
 pretty conspicuous." 
 
 " Good ! and, in the meantime, Hopwood, if 
 you come to town, I shall certainly expect a 
 call ; and think upon what I have been saying- — 
 all things are possible, Hopwood — I see nothing 
 whatever to hinder your advancement. How- 
 ever we will talk the matter over more 
 seriously." 
 
 Mr. Hopwood could only answer by a deep 
 inclination. 
 
 " And, remember, my particular respects to 
 your estimable wife. Ah, that woman must 
 be a treasure ! and I kiss the hand of your 
 charming Georgina. God bless you, my very 
 worthy friend ; take care of yourself. Jackson, 
 attend my friend, Mr. Hopwood, to the door. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 127 
 
 Till I see you again, then, farewell," and shak- 
 ing him most warmly by the hand all the way 
 to the drawing-room door, Hopwood bowing 
 and stammering his gratitude, his lordship took 
 his final leave, and the retired tradesman slided 
 from the room, quite beside himself with the 
 joy of his good fortune, and enchanted with 
 the amiability and condescension of — from this 
 date — his most particular and intimate friend. 
 Viscount Walgrave. 
 
128 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose, 
 Quick a3 her eyes, and as unfix'd as those." 
 
 " Into these ears of mine, 
 These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words 
 That art or love could frame." 
 
 In the breakfast-parlour of a very pretty 
 house, in the immediate neighbourhood of Eg- 
 ham, two young ladies were seated. One was 
 about seventeen years of age, and her com- 
 panion about a year younger. The elder of 
 the two was rather tall, beautifully propor- 
 tioned, possessing a transparent complexion, 
 and a profusion of light brown hair. Her 
 pretty face at first sight was of a timid or bashful 
 cast ; for her eyes were generally intent on some 
 
HOllACE VERNON. 129 
 
 occupation, and, if not, appeared to be studying 
 the pattern of the carpet ; but, when she raised 
 them, by accident or otherwise, there was a 
 singular expression of comic humour, which 
 betrayed a latent disposition for mischief. 
 And even when apparently most intent on 
 threading beads, or hemming a cambric pocket- 
 handkerchief, the corners of her little mouth 
 would sometimes curl upward, at some point in 
 the conversation passing around her, and her 
 eyes would momentarily glide from her occu- 
 pation, to the individual speaking, with a play- 
 ful satire, showing a keen, though concealed 
 sense of the ridiculous. 
 
 Her companion was not quite so old, and 
 had not such natural advantages as herself. 
 But the expression of her countenance was 
 more ingenuous and artless, if not quite so 
 spirituel ; and if the extremely piquant tone 
 of her friend was wanting, she appeared to 
 possess a fund of good nature and amiability, 
 which, in the eyes of many, would be infinitely 
 G 3 
 
130 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 more valuable, though, perhaps, not at first 
 sight so attractive. 
 
 The former of these two young ladies was 
 Miss Georgina Hop wood, who as yet is only 
 known to the reader by the flattering intro- 
 duction of a fond parent ; the latter was Miss 
 Agnes Graham, who, some years since, was 
 taken by her mother, then Mrs. Miltoune, either 
 from a latent sense of duty, or, what is more 
 likely, to answer some purpose of her own, 
 from the tender superintendence of Mr. Jabez 
 Hunsman, to whom she had been early con- 
 signed, for the purpose of being placed at 
 school. She was known then by the name of 
 Charlotte Amelia Russell, and in that name, 
 it will be recollected, a certain bequest was 
 made to her; but as, during the course of 
 years, her mother had found it her interest to 
 change her own state and name, by marrying a 
 person named Maxwell, so we may suppose some 
 equally cogent reason had induced her to alter 
 the name of her child. What that particular 
 
HORACE VERNON. 131 
 
 reason was, can only be a matter of vague sur- 
 mise ; be it, however, what it may, as it pleased 
 her mother so to call her, we must, under this 
 name, so re-introduce her — after having passed 
 the usual routine of school changes and school 
 studies — now residing with her mother at a 
 very handsome establishment on Englefield 
 Green. 
 
 Agnes was a delicate, fragile young creature, 
 of a tender and confiding disposition, grateful 
 for kindness, and patient under wrong ; yet 
 her amiability had not gained her an asylum 
 where it is most expected — in the heart of her 
 parent ; for she was only living, as it were by 
 sufferance, in her house. Seldom was she 
 greeted with a kind word ; seldom, indeed, was 
 she in the presence of her mother, except to 
 perform some office about her person, when her 
 own servant was otherwise occupied ; and even 
 the performance of these little duties, which 
 would have been a source of pleasure to a girl 
 like Agnes, had they been kindly received, 
 
132 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 were generally accompanied by harsh language 
 and contumely ; the slightest deviation from 
 the capricious and imperious will of her mother, 
 would invariably subject her to the most mor- 
 tifying and injurious treatment. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell had several overtures of ac- 
 quaintanceship from families in the neighbour- 
 hood, who appeared to think that living with 
 her husband and family, and keeping a hand- 
 some establishment, were sufficient proofs of 
 respectability ; but such overtures were neither 
 answered nor acknowledged. She had, how- 
 ever, many visitors from London, and occasion- 
 ally gave parties to those who, if we might 
 judge from equipage and outward appearance, 
 were of distinction. To all of these Agnes was 
 a perfect stranger ; she was never introduced 
 to any ; her very name was unknown to them ; 
 and such conduct was the more remarkable, as 
 Mrs. Maxwell had other children, who were 
 treated by her with every mark of affectionate 
 regard. 
 
HORACE VERXON. 133 
 
 An unnatural mother appears to be an ano- 
 maly in creation, and, from its rare and un- 
 frequent occurrence, would seem to be intended 
 by nature as an exception to her beautiful dis- 
 pensation, in order to show, by an occasional 
 disgusting contrast, the true value — if such a 
 measureless blessing can be sufficiently valued 
 — of maternal love. Poor Agnes was of such 
 a gentle and enduring disposition, that she 
 could only reply to such injuries by tears. 
 If it were not true, it would seem an over- 
 strained fiction, that so much gentleness and 
 amiability should be so harshly requited, by 
 one whose duty it was to have cherished and 
 protected her, and smoothed her passage through 
 life. But so strange and unnatural a course of 
 treatment may perhaps be accounted for — and 
 only in such a way — upon the faith of a most 
 repulsive axiom, that those whom we injure, 
 we most detest. Poor Agones endeavoured to 
 beguile the weariness and disgust produced by 
 the treatment she received at home, by culti- 
 
134 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 vating acquaintances abroad. By her intimacy 
 with the Hopwoods she was known to several 
 respectable families in the neighbourhood, with 
 whom her cheerfulness and amiability had ren- 
 dered her a favourite. But her principal friend 
 and companion was Georgina Hopwood, to 
 whom she was always welcome, for her parents 
 had so few visitors, and kept her so closely to 
 her studies, that, besides her masters, Georgina 
 had seldom the opportunity of seeing a fresh 
 face. It was therefore only through her friend 
 and former schoolfellow, Agnes, that she heard 
 the little gossip of the neighbourhood. Poor 
 Agnes had no such care bestowed upon her ; 
 she was left to go where she pleased, and do as 
 she liked. Her mother was frequently in town, 
 and seldom made any inquiry concerning her. 
 
 On the morning referred to in the opening of 
 this chapter, Agnes had been to Egham, and 
 called on her friend Georgina on her return. 
 She was unusually animated, and Georgina had 
 left her work, and drawn a chair close beside 
 
HORACE VERNON. 
 
 135 
 
 her, to learn what had occurred, to put her 
 companion into such good spirits. 
 
 " Oh, Georgina," said Agnes, " I am so de- 
 lighted ; I have been to Major Caisson's this 
 morning, to take Mrs. Caisson the purse I net- 
 ted for her, and I saw her nephew again, Mr. 
 Hervey." 
 
 " And did he say all those fine things over 
 again .'^" asked Georgina. 
 
 " Oh, more, a thousand times ; he said — '' 
 
 " What r 
 
 " That I was the prettiest girl in Egham,'' 
 said Agnes, with a little hesitation. 
 
 " Well, I am sure that was not much of a 
 compliment," remarked Georgina, laughing. 
 
 '' Ah. but he said more than that, Georgina; 
 he said — '' 
 
 " Well, tell me all about it, Agnes.*" 
 
 " I'll tell you another time," said Agnes, 
 blushing; ''but he walked with me all the 
 way here, and he says that he is an officer of 
 artillery at Woolwich, and he is only to stay 
 
136 HORACE VERNO>f. 
 
 here a fortnight, and that the officers have such 
 balls and reviews." 
 
 " How I should like to see him," said Geor- 
 gina, looking in the glass. 
 
 " Well, but, Georgina, I was going to tell 
 you," said Agnes ; " Mrs. Caisson has two or 
 three young friends coming this evening, just 
 to have a little music, and she begged me to 
 ask your mamma to let you go there for an 
 hour or two. Do you think she will ?"" 
 
 '' Perhaps she will ; but don't say a word 
 about Mr. Hervey," said Georgina. 
 
 " Very well, if you think that would make 
 any difference," said Agnes, innocently. 
 
 " Ah, Agnes, you are a happy girl,"" said 
 Georgina ; " you can visit about, see every 
 body, have beaux, and here am I, shut up as 
 though I were in a nunnery. I'm sure I'm 
 quite old enough to visit, and see friends at 
 home, and I will, too," said the spoiled child, 
 pettishly ; " they shall see if I am to be shut up 
 all my life ;" and the colour rose to her temples. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 137 
 
 " You would be sorry to change places with 
 me, Georgina," said Agnes, with a deep sigh ; 
 " the reason that I go about as I please is, that 
 no one cares for me, or what becomes of me." 
 
 " Yes, Agnes, that is very bad, I know," 
 said Georgina, sympathizing with her friend ; 
 " but then to lead such a weary life as I do. 
 But I will amuse myself, whether they let me 
 or not.*' 
 
 " Oh, but, Georgina, your parents treat you 
 so kindly," said Agnes ; " look at this ;" — and 
 taking off her glove, she showed a large mark 
 on the back of her hand. 
 
 "" Why, what is that ?''"' asked Georgina, with 
 surprise. 
 
 " One morning, when I was dressing my 
 mamma's hair, I placed a curl wrong, and she 
 struck me with an open knife," replied Agnes, 
 sorrowfully, the tears coming into her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, how shocking ! and you never told 
 me !" said Georgina, in an indignant tone ; " it 
 is well for her that she has not me for a daugh- 
 
138 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 ter ; but, poor Agnes, you have not half spirit 
 enough." 
 
 Agnes sighed again, and dried her eyes. 
 
 " Well, but Agnes, never mind ;" continued 
 her friend ; " is Mr. Hervey handsome .'^" 
 
 " Handsome ! Georgina, he is beautiful," 
 said Agnes; the subject restoring her at once 
 to her former gaiety. " Oh, I do hope your 
 mamma will let you go ; you will like him so ; 
 but you must not admire him too much, dear 
 Georgina." 
 
 " You need not fear that ; because you know, 
 Agnes, that you are the prettiest girl in Eg- 
 ham," said Georgina, archly. Agnes laughed, 
 and was about to reply, but was prevented by 
 the entrance of Mrs. Hop wood. 
 
 Mrs. Hopwood appeared about the age of 
 five-and-forty, was rather tall, and of a comely, 
 matron-like appearance. She might be consi- 
 dered somewhat over-dressed for a person of 
 such retired habits; for her morning-cap re- 
 sembled a huge bouquet, so entirely covered 
 
HORACE VERNON. 139 
 
 was it with flowers. A large braid of hair, ex- 
 tending almost the length of each cheek, was 
 apparently intended to conceal the advances 
 which time had made, in his gradual metamor- 
 phosis of a young and good-looking girl, into a 
 staid, respectable-looking lady. But, notwith- 
 standing braids, and flowers, and glittering 
 chains, and trinkets, years will make themselves 
 visible ; and there is no cosmetic can quite re- 
 store a complexion of five-and-forty years' wear 
 to the bloom of seventeen ; no artifice that 
 can quite compensate for the silken tresses of 
 youth. There was, however, some little excuse 
 for Mrs. Hopwood's lingering remains of va- 
 nity. She could not forget that she had been 
 for many a day the toast of all the dashing 
 clerks of Cannon-street ; and the recollection 
 of those days of triumph, when she reigned the 
 acknowledged belle of the Mansion-house balls, 
 was still dear to her. On her entrance, she 
 greeted Agnes with great kindness and cor- 
 diality. 
 
140 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Hopwood," said Agnes, after the 
 first inquiries were over, " I have such a fa- 
 vour to beg of you. Mrs. Caisson has two or 
 three young friends this evening, and has beg- 
 ged me to ask you to let Georgina come for an 
 hour or two. The major says he will see her 
 safe home." Mrs. Hopwood* looked very grave 
 at this request. It was one of those weighty 
 matters which she could hardly take upon her- 
 self to decide ; for anything in which Georgina 
 was concerned was an affair of serious deliber- 
 ation between the worthy pair. 
 
 " Why, my dear, I hardly know what to 
 do,""* replied Mrs. Hopwood, balancing each 
 word ; " what would Mr. Hopwood say ?" 
 
 '•' Why, mamma, you know, papa need not 
 be told a word of the matter ; he will not re- 
 turn from London till to-morrow." 
 
 «' If I could go with you, my dear," said 
 Mrs. Hopwood, " perhaps — " 
 
 " But you would not like to leave the house 
 while papa is absent," interposed her daughter. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 141 
 
 *'That would be the difficulty," said the 
 careful lady. 
 
 " Oh, pray let her go, ma'am, for this once ; 
 we will take great care of her," said Agnes. 
 
 "Do, mamma; you know I never go out," 
 said Georgina, pouting ; '' I am like a bird in 
 a cage." 
 
 "Why, my dear, you must remember the 
 scrupulous attention with which your papa and 
 myself wish you to be brought up," said Mrs. 
 Hop wood, seriously ; " you know his objection 
 to parties, for girls so young as yourself." 
 
 " Why, mamma, I have heard you speak 
 many times of your dancing at the Lord 
 Mayor''s balls, long before you were of my 
 age, when you used to be the belle of the as- 
 sembly, you know, mamma," said Georgina, 
 slyly looking in her mother's face, and kissing 
 her cheek. The features of the former belle 
 relaxed insensibly into a smile, at the sadly- 
 pleasing reminiscence. 
 
 " Come, mamma, only for once," urged 
 Georgina. 
 
142 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " The major will bring her home,""* suggested 
 Agnes. 
 
 '' Well, well, you are a spoiled child, and 
 must have your way, I suppose," said Mrs. 
 Hopwood, good-naturedly ; " I don't know 
 what your papa will say."' 
 
 " Oh, thank you I thank you !" cried both 
 the girls at once, and they ran off to consult on 
 matters of parure for the evening. Agnes 
 went home to look out a few articles of dress, 
 and then returned to assist her friend, with 
 whose appearance she seemed considerably 
 more interested than with her own. 
 
HORACE VEENON. 143 
 
 CHAPTER. VII. 
 
 " With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, 
 Say, * What can Chloe want?' She wants a heart." 
 
 " All nature fades extinct ; and she alone 
 Heard, felt, and seen, possesses ev'ry thought, 
 Fills ev'ry sense, and pants in ev'ry vein." 
 
 It was rather late when the young ladies ar- 
 rived at Major Caisson's ; for though the toilette 
 of neither was very much distinguished from 
 the general style of young persons on such oc- 
 casions, yet novelty, in the present instance, 
 with regard to Georgina, excused a little extra 
 study. When they entered the neat little 
 drawing-room, they were kindly welcomed by 
 Mrs. Caisson and the major, who did not ex- 
 pect to see Georgina, knowing the very exclu- 
 
144 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 sive system which her parents had thought pro- 
 per to adopt with regard to her — a system 
 which the major had frequently combatted with 
 Mr. Hopwood, but without shaking his opinion 
 with regard to its advantages in the formation 
 of the female character. Amidst all this friendly 
 exchange of civility, Agnes found means to 
 whisper in the ear of her friend — 
 
 " That is Mr. Hervey, sitting on the chair, 
 with Mrs. Caisson's little dog, Fido, next to 
 him." Georgina's eyes had already made the 
 circuit, of the room and had decided upon the 
 identity of Mr. Hervey, before Agnes made her 
 confidential communication. She had like- 
 wise, with peculiar quickness, observed that 
 Mr. Hervey's eyes had been fixed upon Agnes, 
 from the moment she entered the room, and 
 that he was only prevented, by the conversa- 
 tion of an elderly lady upon his left hand, from 
 being at her side. 
 
 There are few females, be their age what it 
 may, who can bear with equanimity the con- 
 
HORACE VERNON. ' 145 
 
 viction that another — even a dear friend — is to 
 occupy the exclusive attention of the only de- 
 sirable person present ; and Georgina's glance, 
 rapid as it was, had sufficiently informed her 
 of that fact. She had not been much in so- 
 ciety, and the flattery of men was unknown to 
 her; but she had nevertheless learned, through 
 some freemasonry of the sex. that she was a 
 very charming young person. In her appear- 
 ance, at first sight, as we before remarked, she 
 had decidedly the advantage of Agnes. Her 
 retiring manner and 7idive replies were pecu- 
 liarly attractive. Many, in observing her ap- 
 parently modest but unstudied demeanour, 
 would have considered her a complete child 
 of nature ; yet few men could look at her, and 
 not deem her wortliy of particular admirar 
 tion. 
 
 Without being regularly handsome, Georgina 
 was decidedly what is called a gentleman's 
 beauty ; and, after all, let the ladies say what 
 they like, the gentlemen are the best judges. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 Men are captivated by a thousand nameless at- 
 tractions, which women cannot appreciate, judg- 
 ing, as they do, solely by the features. It may 
 generally be set down as a rule, when females 
 particularly " wonder what the men can see to 
 admire " in any individual of their own sex, 
 that she is a very interesting and attractive 
 person. Now the glances which Georgina oc- 
 casionally threw from beneath her long lashes, 
 so expressive and full of meaning, could hardly 
 fail to make an impression upon every man 
 who came within the range of so powerful a 
 battery ; though ladies might perhaps be in- 
 clined to misinterpret such innocent demon- 
 strations. 
 
 In the present instance Georgina was so 
 much piqued by observing the decided prefer- 
 ence which Mr. Hervey had shown by his 
 looks towards Agnes, that she longed to try 
 her power ; for the love of conquest seems in- 
 herent in the sex ; not, indeed, the subjugation 
 by brute force, which satisfies the coarser pas- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 147 
 
 sions of men, but that which works a more 
 secure victory, through the more refined me- 
 dium of the heart. This first little develop- 
 ment of coquetry on the part of Georgina might 
 perhaps have been the effect of a thought- 
 less disposition, or the vanity inseparable from 
 youth and good looks. But, from whatever 
 cause it proceeded, she seemed determined to 
 draw the attention of Mr. Hervey to herself ; 
 for, no sooner had she disengaged herself from 
 Mrs. Caisson, than she exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh, I declare, there is little Fido !'' and, 
 with her hands clasped together, she ran, with 
 almost an infantile simplicity, towards the little 
 pet ; and falling on her knees, regardless of 
 her white muslin frock, began to load it with 
 caresses. Whether from the abrupt nature of 
 Georgina's advance, or from the caprice natural 
 to a spoiled puppy, or from any hidden cause 
 only explainatble by Georgina herself, the dog, 
 considered the most docile of its kind, suddenly 
 jumped up with a loud cry, and sought protec- 
 H 2 
 
148 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 tion in the arms of Mr. Hervey, with whom it 
 seemed an especial favourite, leaving Georgina 
 upon her knees, with her hand to her mouth, 
 like a school-girl who had cut her finger. 
 
 " God bless me ! I hope the dog has not 
 hurt you," said Mr. Hervey, turning to Georg- 
 ina, and assisting her to rise. 
 
 " I hardly know, sir," faltered the young 
 lady, in a voice not much above a whisper ; 
 " I am so frightened ; but my hand smarts ter- 
 ribly." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that : let me see," said 
 the young man ; '' I shall never forgive him if 
 he has injured so pretty a hand," he added, 
 taking one of the whitest and prettiest hands in 
 the world, which she, with the utmost simpli- 
 city had submitted to him. He could discover, 
 however, neither speck nor scratch, although 
 he devoted to it the most careful examination ; 
 and as she gently withdrew it from his pressure, 
 his regards naturally sought the countenance of 
 the possessor, when he encountered the glance 
 
HORACE VERNON. 149 
 
 of a pair of beautiful eyes, in which there was 
 then neither mischief nor mirth, but which 
 beamed full upon him with a most timid, 
 though grateful expression of regard. The 
 young man seemed quite astonished, for he al- 
 lowed her to glide from the group which tlie 
 accident had gathered round, without saying a 
 word. Georgina retired bashfully to the side 
 of Mrs. Caisson, as though quite ashamed of 
 having created so much inquiry. 
 
 *•' What a very charming girl !" exclaimed 
 Mr. Hervey, as he followed her with his eyes 
 to the position she had taken. "Ah, Miss 
 Graham, how do you do? who is that very 
 pretty girl you have brought with you ?" 
 
 " She is my friend, Miss Hopwood," an- 
 swered Agnes, rather drily ; for these were the 
 first words her ardent admirer of the morning 
 had addressed to her. 
 
 " Well, then, I declare your friend. Miss 
 Hopwood, is one of the prettiest girls I have 
 seen," returned Mr. Hervey, with that want of 
 
150 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 tact and feeling towards an interesting young 
 person of whom he had for some days been a 
 professed admirer, only excusable in a young 
 man of some one or two-and-twenty years of 
 age. 
 
 " Indeed !" said Agnes ; " she is very well, 
 but I have never heard her considered a 
 beauty.'''' 
 
 '* Well, perhaps not exactly a beauty," re- 
 plied Mr. Hervey, laughing, for he had re- 
 marked the slight tone of pique with which she 
 uttered the last word: perhaps the bad taste 
 of expressing so unfeigned an admiration of 
 another, to one whom he had styled the " pret- 
 tiest girl in Egham," might have become ap- 
 parent to him, for he immediately subdued his 
 tone. 
 
 " I had no idea that Egham was so seduc- 
 tive," he continued, smiling at Agnes, " for I 
 have been here but a few days, and I declare I 
 have been in love all the time. But," he whis- 
 pered in her ear, " the greatest beauties, you 
 
HORACE VERNON. 151 
 
 know, do not always make the greatest impres- 
 sions/"' In whatever way this odd, left-handed 
 compliment was intended, the amiability of 
 Agnes induced her to consider it as the amende 
 honorable^ and she began to be angry with her- 
 self for having felt any pique at the praises ot 
 her friend. The feeling of rivalry being at an 
 end, she had no scruple in extolling the talents 
 and beauty of her friend Georgina, and, above 
 all, the innocence and simplicity of her mind ; 
 to all which her admirer listened, perhaps with 
 a too indulgent ear. 
 
 Georgina had chosen a situation not exactly 
 to her taste, though perhaps, at the moment, it 
 was the best for the effect she desired. She 
 was seated between Mrs. Caisson and an elderly 
 lady, who were carrying on , across her, an ani- 
 mated discourse on the depravity of the female 
 servants of the present day. They were so dif- 
 ferent to what they were formerly. One ascribed 
 the unhappy change in their morals to the Sun- 
 day schools and the " Penny Magazine ;*" while 
 the other was of opinion it was all owing to 
 
152 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 the demoralizing influence of the new police. 
 Georgina, not feeling much interest in the dis- 
 cussion, had directed several furtive glances 
 around the room, and her vanity was not a 
 little flattered to find that Mr. Hervey, 
 although conversing with Agnes, was direct- 
 ing the whole language of which his eyes were 
 master, towards herself. The situation of 
 Agnes, seated as she was, tete-a-tete with her 
 admirer, appeared much too pleasant to Geor- 
 gina to be endurable to her. She therefore 
 speedily beckoned her former school-fellow, 
 who with the greatest alacrity obeyed her signal, 
 and Georgina, taking her arm, they withdrew 
 to another part of the room. 
 
 " Well, Georgina, and what do you think of 
 my beau.'^" was the first question that Agnes 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh, he is middling," replied Georgina, 
 with the most perfect indiff'erence ; " I don't 
 think much of him — at least, not very much." 
 Now, the truth was, that he was by no means 
 indifferent to her ; for, in the first place, he 
 
HORACE VERNON. 153 
 
 was the only young man in the room, and, in 
 the next, he was tall and well-proportioned, 
 with good eyes, and good teeth, and a certain 
 easy, unembarrassed air, acquired by mixing in 
 good society ; besides, it was Georgina's first 
 experiment. 
 
 " Now, that is not grateful of you," said 
 Agnes ; "for, do you know, he said you were 
 the prettiest girl he had ever seen ?" 
 
 *' Ah, but not the prettiest girl in Egham," 
 said Georgina, laughing. 
 
 In the mean time, Mr. Hervey sought his 
 uncle, the major, who, as well as his lady, was 
 busy in discussion, though of a different cha- 
 racter to the merits of maid-servants. The 
 major was a sort of uncle Toby in his way. 
 He was remarkable for his benevolence of cha- 
 racter, and his hobby was connected with his 
 profession. He was a retired artillery officer, 
 and though no longer able to serve his country 
 in the field, he still devoted to her his talents 
 in retirement, by endeavouring to make such 
 H 3 
 
154 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 improvements in the engines of destruction, as 
 to kill the greatest possible number of men, 
 at the smallest possible expenditure of powder 
 and ball. His grand invention was a piece of 
 double ordnance, which was called, by a wag- 
 gish military friend, the " Siamese Twins." 
 A very handsome brass model was under a 
 glass case, amongst the ornaments in the draw- 
 ing-room, and its great use and advantages in 
 unmasting and sinking vessels at sea, were fully 
 explained to every visitor. 
 
 The major had a younger nephew, a cousin 
 of the cadet at Woolwich, now visiting him, 
 whom he had vainly endeavoured to bring up 
 respectably ; for such was the naturally per- 
 verse disposition of the urchin — he was not 
 more than eleven years old — that it seemed a 
 hopeless task. Young as he was, he had been 
 expelled from two schools, and he had not been 
 sent back to his uncle's house more than a 
 week before he absconded in company with the 
 twopenny post-boy of the village, with whom 
 
HORACE VERNON. 155 
 
 he had formed a strict alliance. When he was 
 discovered, he was loitering in the purlieus of 
 the post-office, soliciting to he enrolled amongst 
 the respectahle fraternity to which his friend 
 belonged. 
 
 This hopeful youth was now employed by 
 his uncle in grinding charcoal, mixing sulphur, 
 and preparing various other combustibles, by 
 which he conducted his experiments ; an em- 
 ployment, by the way, which was well suited 
 to the genius of the lad, as it gave him ample 
 opportunity for mischief. If the talents of the 
 uncle lay in projectiles, so did that of the ne- 
 phew, at a humble distance ; for, whilst the 
 one was busy upon shells and Congreve rockets, 
 the other was equally intent upon the fabrica- 
 tion of squibs and crackers ; and if the career 
 of. the major's experimental rockets alarmed 
 proprietors for the safety of their ricks and out- 
 buildings, so, in the same proportion, was there 
 scarcely an old woman, for many miles round, 
 who had not, at one time or another, been 
 
156 
 
 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 frightened out of her wits by the explosion of 
 the smaller class of projectiles ingeniously fast- 
 ened to the tail of her cloak by this young 
 powder-monkey. The youth's appearance was 
 somewhat singular. His head was as round as 
 a bullet, with the hair cut extremely close, as 
 it had twice taken fire from explosions, in the 
 latter of which his eye-brows had been com- 
 pletely removed. His legs were unusually 
 long in proportion to his size, and in his tight- 
 fitting jacket and trowsers, his arms close to his 
 sides, his hands searching the very recesses of 
 his pockets, with his legs apart, which was his 
 usual attitude when unemployed, or when con- 
 cocting some new scheme, he bore no unapt re- 
 semblance to a pair of fire-tongs. 
 
 Mr. Hervey, it has been mentioned, sought 
 his uncle, who was conversing with a neighbour 
 upon his favourite topic, of the rare advantage 
 the service would experience by the adoption of 
 his double revolving chain apparatus, and the 
 young hopeful was seated on a stool at the foot 
 
HORACE VERNON. ISJ 
 
 of his uncle, eagerly imbibing every syllable 
 relating to the merits of these organs of de- 
 structiveness. Mr. Hervey, in thus seeking 
 his uncle, had some few inquiries w^hich he 
 wished resolved, regarding the handsome 
 Georgina Hopwood, who had certainly, whe- 
 ther intentionally or not, created an unusual 
 sensation in the young man's mind. But know- 
 ing the impracticable nature of his uncle when 
 engaged on his favourite subject, he quietly 
 drew a chair close to him, expecting that a few 
 minutes would close the discussion. The little 
 interval he beguiled with a pleasant sort of 
 castle-building, self-apostrophizing speculation 
 peculiar to the age of twenty, or thereabouts. 
 
 " You see, sir,"" said the major, earnestly, 
 " that the range of a piece of ordnance, of the 
 calibre I mentioned, rarely exceeds eight hun- 
 dred and seventy yards, whereas the number of 
 yards which my double action piece, carrying, 
 remember, a chain-shot of thirty-two pounds, 
 would range — " 
 
158 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Not more than seventeen," said Mr. Her- 
 vey, "' I'd bet my life on it !*"* 
 
 " Not more than what ?" cried the major, 
 turning sharply round upon his nephew. 
 
 \^ Seventeen !'' repeated the nephew, looking 
 at his uncle with some surprise. 
 
 "Is that all your Woolwich studies have 
 taught you, sir ?" asked the major with some 
 slight asperity. 
 
 '' My Woolwich studies, sir !" repeated the 
 young man, wondering ; " what on earth have 
 my Woolwich studies to do with the matter ?" 
 
 " Why, Edward, you are foolish to-night, 
 surely," said the major, in a half-bantering 
 tone. 
 
 " I really do not understand you, sir," said 
 the nephew, with all the offended dignity of a 
 young cadet. 
 
 " Then I think we are precisely in a similar 
 position,"" returned the major ; " you interrupt 
 me in my explanation to Captain Roberts, of 
 the comparative range of artillery, by declaring 
 
HORACE VERNON. 159 
 
 my cannon would not range more than seven- 
 teen yards — " 
 
 '" Oh, sir, I beg your pardon," said the 
 cadet, laughing, " I was not thinking, at that 
 moment, of the range of your cannon ; I was 
 thinking of the age of Miss Hopwood." 
 
 " Miss " 
 
 The old major was about to have added a 
 word at which his gallantry would afterwards 
 have been shocked ; but it was an equivoque 
 which bore almost too hard upon his hobby, 
 and the very best-natured men will, on such 
 occasions, be trepanned into hasty expressions. 
 That any one could be thinking of Miss Hop- 
 wood during a discussion of such public im- 
 portance as his chain ordnance, was one of those 
 unaccountable freaks of the human mind, of 
 which the major had no conception. He was 
 spared the pains, however, of investigating this 
 new branch of study, by a yell of delight from 
 his goblin nephew, who ran about the room, 
 leaping and clapping his hands, like Sir Walter 
 
160 HOKACE VERNON. 
 
 Scott's elfin page. No sooner had the youth 
 comprehended the joke against his uncle, than 
 he jumped up with this boisterous exhibition of 
 mirth, and soon made every body in the room 
 comprehend the nature of it. The cadet se- 
 cretly wished his youthful cousin blown up on 
 the stick of one of his own sky-rockets, for 
 giving this unexpected publicity to his private 
 reflections, and creating some tittering at his 
 expense ; but the simple-minded Georgina 
 could not at all understand why her age should 
 become matter for Hervey's meditations. 
 
 " Well, I'm sure, I think Mr. Hervey does 
 nothing but think of you, Georgina," said 
 Agnes. 
 
 *' La ! Agnes, what should he think of me 
 for ?'' said Georgina, in the most innocent tone 
 imaginable. 
 
 Some card-tables were formed ; but Georgina 
 never played at cards — it was contrary to Mr. 
 Hopwood's system of education ; therefore she 
 retired with her friend Agnes to a snug corner 
 
HORACE VERNON. 161 
 
 of the room, where they might converse at li- 
 berty. Their retreat, however, was almost im- 
 mediately invaded by Mr. Hervey, who seated 
 himself next to Georgina. 
 
 " How is it that you have forsaken the card- 
 players, Mr. Hervey ?" asked Agnes. 
 
 " Because I find ' metal more attractive,' '' 
 answered the cadet, casting a most languishing 
 regard towards Georgina ; " indeed, on such a 
 beautiful night as this, I would rather be in 
 the woods, listening to the nightingale, than 
 playing at cards. What say you. Miss Hop- 
 wood ?" 
 
 " Oh, charming !" said Georgina, clasping 
 her hands ; " cannot >ve go .^" 
 
 '' La ! my dear, what are you thinking of?" 
 said Agnes. 
 
 '' Why, I fear there are some here who 
 might object to such an experiment," said the 
 cadet, " though it would be more pleasant than 
 a crowded room — at least to a poetic, sensitive 
 mind, which I am sure you possess. Miss Hop- 
 wood." 
 
162 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " I cannot say quite so much for myself,'' 
 she answered ; " but I certainly prefer the re- 
 tirement of our own lovely little garden at 
 home, to all the charms of society." 
 
 " I was certain of it," exclaimed the enrap- 
 tured young man; "your mind is essentially 
 poetic. You love the poetry of Byron ?" 
 
 " Oh, I worship it !" 
 
 " Why, Georgina," said Agnes, looking at 
 her with surprise, " I never saw you with a 
 book of poetry in your hand, in my life/'' 
 
 " Well, my dear Agnes, surely I may love 
 poetry without always having a book in my 
 hand," said Georgina. " Can you repeat any 
 of those beautiful passages of Byron's, Mr. 
 Hervey r 
 
 Mr. Hervey looked at her with ecstacy ; for, 
 like many young men of twenty, or thereabouts, 
 he adored Byron, and was brimful of senti- 
 ment. The gentle Georgina on her part as- 
 sumed an attitude of the most intense admira- 
 tion, whilst he commenced the well-known 
 
HORACE VERNON. 
 
 163 
 
 lines — perhaps fancying them appropriate — in 
 
 a voice intended to convey the deepest 
 
 pathos — 
 
 " Maid of Athens, ere we part, 
 Give, oh, give me back my heart !" 
 
 "Oh, for goodness' sake, Mr. Hervey," ex- 
 claimed Agnes, putting her hands to her ears, 
 " do not give us any sickly love-poetry ; ra- 
 ther than listen to that, I would prefer wander- 
 ing in the woods by moonlight, as you sug- 
 gested." 
 
 " I would advise you to try it. Miss Gra- 
 ham," observed her late admirer, not able to 
 conceal his chagrin at the interruption ; " per- 
 haps it might give you sentiment," he added, 
 sarcastically. 
 
 " It would more likely give me cold," said 
 Agnes, drily. 
 
 Mr. Hervey made a sort of constrained in- 
 clination of the head, as if consenting to the 
 propriety of a remark not worth answering; 
 but he exchanged a most significant look of 
 
164 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 pity with Georgina, which was fortunately un- 
 observed by Agnes. The extraordinary per- 
 sonal conceit of young men of twenty, or there- 
 abouts, is quite remarkable. The lively man- 
 ner in which Agnes had checked the young 
 gentleman*'s poetic sensibilities had wounded 
 his self-love. She had gently taken him down 
 from his poetic pedestal, where, he flattered 
 himself, he was most calculated to shine ; and, 
 as he had not wit enough to mount again, he 
 betook himself to the never-failing and mag- 
 nanimous refuge of the dull — he gave her his 
 pity. 
 
 It need not be supposed, however, that 
 Agnes was such a very matter-of-fact person. 
 She loved poetry, and often had she endan- 
 gered the purse of the County Fire-office, by 
 dwelling upon the sorrows of the " Bride of 
 Abydos," at a time when she should have been 
 fast asleep. She had all the sentiment of six- 
 teen, but, in the present instance, there was 
 nothing to call it forth. The fact was, her 
 
HORACE VERNON. 165 
 
 feelinffs were anvthins: but sentimental at that 
 moment. She felt hurt with Mr. Hervey, dis- 
 satisfied with Georgina, and amazed with her- 
 self for feeling anything about it. But she 
 could not forget that this gay Lothario had 
 been flirting with her for some days, — that he 
 had made all manner of advances towards her 
 confidence, — had constituted himself her che- 
 valier. She fancied, therefore, that she had 
 a certain right to his special attention, a kind 
 of property in him for the time being, and flat- 
 tered herself with displaying her triumph to 
 her friend ; when, behold, the pretty edifice 
 which she had built proves to be mere frost- 
 work, and melts away at a single glance from 
 the eyes of Georgina. It is true that her feel- 
 ings were not violently wounded ; nevertheless, 
 they were sufliciently mortified not to be able 
 to hear her versatile chevalier making love to 
 her friend before her face, with any degree of 
 patience. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Hervey," pursued Agnes, 
 
166 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " though sentimental poetry might charm one 
 more among the scenes you recommend, yet, 
 I'm sure, your experience can furnish some 
 other recital for our amusement while the card- 
 playing continues.*" 
 
 *' If I knew how I could accommodate your 
 taste, Miss Graham," said the cadet, relaxing 
 nothing of his ojff ended dignity, '' I would 
 most willingly ; but I fear my poor ability 
 will be too hardly taxed." 
 
 " If you did but know a good ghost story, 
 now," said Agnes, with grave comicality ; 
 " something truly horrible. I remember once 
 crying myself to sleep at school about the ap- 
 parition of a lady with three heads. Are you 
 fond of ghost stories, Mr. Hervey ? Georgina 
 delights in them." 
 
 " La ! Agnes, how can you say so .?" said 
 Georgina. 
 
 " Miss Graham is joking with us," observed 
 Mr. Hervey, seriously. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 167 
 
 '' Indeed I am not," said Agnes, '' I like a 
 ghost story of all things." 
 
 " Then, I am sorry I cannot oblige you," 
 returned the young gentleman from Woolwich, 
 very gravely, "for my talent does not lie in 
 that way." 
 
 " Oh, that's a pity. I suppose your talent lies 
 more in calculating ages," said Agnes, slyly ; 
 '' however, I hope when you come to Egham 
 again, you will be provided with a store." 
 
 " Then, in the mean time, I must find a re- 
 ceipt to make them," returned the cadet, with- 
 out noticing the former hint. 
 
 " I can give you that," uttered a voice close 
 at his elbow, which made them start. On 
 looking, they perceived the urchin nephew with 
 a broad grin upon his face. " If you want the 
 very best," he continued, " you must grind 
 your charcoal very fine, add two ounces of 
 nitre, two ounces of sulphur, two ounces of salt- 
 petre, and mix a small quantity of spirits of 
 wine ; but if — " 
 
168 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 "' What is he talking about ?'' asked Georg- 
 ina, laughing. 
 
 " Why, about crackers," returned young 
 scapegrace ; " and, I say. Miss Georgina," and 
 he bent forward to her ear, and continued, in 
 a voice intended to be confidential, " if you 
 will promise not to say a word, I mean to singe 
 your old pa's wig for him one day, when I 
 catch him this way. It will be such a lark !" 
 And, with this pleasant intimation of some sin- 
 ister design upon the person of her respected 
 parent, he bounded off like a young kangaroo, 
 to some other part of the room. 
 
 " What a monster !" ejaculated Georgina, 
 with a becoming expression of horror at the 
 bare contemplation of such a catastrophe as 
 that threatened, though scarcely able to resist 
 a burst of laughter. 
 
 " I wonder whether your young cousin is 
 fond of Byron and moonlight, Mr. Hervey .'''" 
 asked Agnes, gravely, of the young cadet ; 
 and, without waiting for a reply, she conti- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 169 
 
 nued — *' but I shall go and study the art of 
 ' speculation ' at the card-table, and leave you 
 to entertain Georgina with the ' Maid of 
 Athens/" Saying which she made her way to 
 the card-players, leaving her friend and ci- 
 devant admirer tete-a-tete, 
 
 " Your friend Miss Graham would be really a 
 very nice girl, but that I fear her taste is not very 
 refined,"''* observed the young gentleman, with 
 the manner of one who felt himself at liberty to 
 speak more freely ; " but I am sure. Miss 
 Hop wood, you will readily appreciate me when 
 I say, that a girl who is deficient in sensibility 
 wants the greatest charm of life." 
 
 Georgina perfectly coincided with the senti- 
 mental cadet. 
 
 " Now, my dear Miss Hopwood," he con- 
 tinued, '' though I have had but the pleasure 
 of your acquaintance for so short a time, yet 
 I feel as if I had known you for years. I 
 am sure there is a congeniality in our feelings 
 and pursuits which would be quite delightful. 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
17t> HOKACE VERNON. 
 
 If I might be permitted to cultivate so charm- 
 ing a commencement — " 
 
 " Indeed, you are very flattering, Mr. Her- 
 vey,"' whispered Georgina, her eyes fixed on 
 the carpet. 
 
 " I would not dare to flatter such beauty 
 and talent," said the young man, with enthu- 
 siasm. " I speak, excuse me if I am bold 
 enough to say, the sentiment of my heart. 
 During my stay at Egham, perhaps you will 
 permit me to call at your house .?" 
 
 '' My papa would be glad to see you, but 
 you would not see we," said Georgina, with 
 the most touching simplicity of manner. 
 
 "• Really that is too strict a seclusion," said 
 the dejected cadet ; "do you not walk out 
 occasionally with your friend Miss Graham ?'*'' 
 
 " Never, without my mamma ; it is a mere 
 chance that I am here to-night. Our garden, 
 which is large, is the only place where I am al- 
 lowed to walk alone." 
 
 " Then, it must be a second garden of Eden," 
 
HORACE VERNON. I7I 
 
 exclaimed the enamoured cadet ; " do not con- 
 sider me the serpent, if I disturb your medita- 
 tions some fine evening."" 
 
 "Oh, that would be romantic!" cried the 
 artless Georgina. " And that reminds me that 
 I must speak to papa ; for the garden-gate has 
 never been repaired since the garden was entered 
 last year. Would you believe it ? — it is merely 
 fastened by a latch, and I am there so late 
 sometimes as nine o'clock in these nice, warm, 
 moonlight evenings." 
 
 " That is very neglectful," said the cadet, 
 thoughtfully, as if revolving in his mind 
 some ingenious speculation ; but further con- 
 fidential intercouse was stayed, by Mrs. Cais- 
 son's approach. 
 
 " Well, my dear Georgina, this is a sad dull 
 evening for you, who do not play at cards," 
 said the old lady, kindly. But Georgina hast- 
 ened to assure her to the contrary, when the 
 old lady's eye caught her young nephew amusing 
 himself by looking over the heterogeneous con- 
 I 2 
 
172 HORACE VERNONT. 
 
 tents of his pockets. His hands were as black 
 as soot, and his face was likewise sadly be- 
 grimed. 
 
 " James, what are you doing here in that 
 condition, sir ?" said his aunt, angrily ; " if 
 you touch any lady's dress, which you are mis- 
 chievous enough to do, you will spoil it, to a 
 certainty." 
 
 "Can't you let me alone, aunt .^^ I am not 
 doing any harm,"*' grumbled Master James. 
 
 " Major, do pray look at this boy," said 
 Mrs. Caisson, raising her voice, " and see if he 
 is fit to be here." 
 
 " What, you young rascal, you have been in 
 my study, have you ?" said the major, rising 
 from the card-table, and inspecting his assistant 
 in the fine arts ; '' you will blow the house up 
 some day, you young vagabond, you will. Did 
 I not tell you never to go there without me .^^ 
 
 " If 1 blow the house up, 1 can do it as well 
 without you as with you," sulkily returned the 
 young connoisseur in crackers. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 173 
 
 " Go along, yoa impudent young scape- 
 grace," said his uncle, angrily, " and do not 
 show your face here again to-night." 
 
 The boy slowly packed his pockets, and, 
 without saying a word, surlily withdrew. 
 
 *' I declare," said Mrs. Caisson, " what with 
 that boy, and the major's rockets and gun- 
 powder, I can scarcely sleep in my bed at 
 night." 
 
 " Well, my dear," replied the major, '* we 
 will get rid of the lad the moment I can find 
 any friend who will take him to sea. I shall 
 be as glad as yourself to see him out of the 
 house." 
 
 " I was thinking, my dear," said Mrs. Cais- 
 son, "how we could amuse Georgina, whilst 
 this card-playing continues ?'* 
 
 " I have it," said the major, touching his 
 forehead with the tip of his forefinger ; '' fetch 
 my pamphlet on ' projectiles,' and Edward will 
 explain to her my improvement on Congreve 
 rockets." 
 
1^4f HORACE VERNOK. 
 
 " Sir, I fear Miss Hop wood will not appre- 
 ciate such study," remarked the young gentle- 
 man from Woolwich, in a tone which argued 
 his perfect knowledge of young ladies' tastes. 
 
 " Well then, sir," returned the major, " sup- 
 pose you try whether Miss Hopwood will ap- 
 preciate a sandwich, or some such thing,"*" ob- 
 serving that such things were then in actual 
 progress round the room ; and, as he spoke, 
 the lad that took care of the major's pony, ap- 
 proached, disguised in a blue livery-coat, and, 
 stumbling against the foot-stool, helped Georg- 
 ina to a very plentiful supply of those neatly- 
 cut, triangular-shaped pieces of bread-and- 
 butter and ham, known by the name of sand- 
 wiches. A withering look of contempt from 
 the cadet, nearly annihilated the delinquent, 
 who wished himself up to his ears in his 
 master's water-butt ; whilst a gallant scramble 
 for the stray sandwiches ensued, between the 
 major and his accomplished nephew. 
 
 By this time the interest of many of the card- 
 
HORACE VERNON. I'JS 
 
 players had taken a direction in favour of the 
 contents of the trays, then in a rapid course of 
 circulation. The major was making a tour 
 amongst the ladies, taking wine with them, and 
 relating the wonders of his rockets, when sud- 
 denly a most astounding explosion was heard, 
 which at once extinguished the lights, and was 
 quickly followed by a whiz-z-z-z — bang — bang 
 — bang — in endless succession, whilst one of tiie 
 major'^s projectiles was seen making the tour of 
 the room, followed by a train of every coloured 
 light, and scattering a profusion of sparks 
 amongst the bewildered guests. 
 
 Screaming and scrambling for safety became 
 the order of the night. Some dived beneath the 
 card-tables, others made umbrellas of chairs to 
 protect themselves from the incendiary shower; 
 whilst the cause of terror, having made the cir- 
 cuit of the room unmolested, took the best seat 
 vacant, (being the couch which Georgina and 
 her admirer had just vacated,) and having 
 whizzed amidst a blaze of sparks for half a 
 
176 HORACE VEllNON. 
 
 minute undisturbed, extinguished itself with a 
 report like the major's " Siamese Twins," leav- 
 ing the room in complete darkness, and a cloud 
 of smoke as thick and as suffocating as the 
 gun-room of a seventy-four at the battle of 
 Trafalgar. 
 
 Lights were speedily procured, the windows 
 were thrown open, the ladies handed from their 
 several places of refuge, and smelling-bottles 
 were in active requisition. On the first alarm, 
 Georgina had seized the arm of her admiring 
 companion for protection, and the enamoured 
 cadet, who, from the nature of his studies, 
 easily detected the nature of their unwelcome 
 visitant, was delighted at the event, since it af- 
 forded him the happiness of extending his pro- 
 tection to the object of his admiration. 
 
 Encircling her slender waist, therefore, he 
 almost carried her from the couch on which they 
 had been seated, and took her, for refuge and 
 security, behind one of the curtains in the recess 
 of a window, where, with his lovely charge, he 
 
HORACE VERNON. 177 
 
 awaited, in unspeakable happiness, the termi- 
 nation of the fiery shower. 
 
 Meantime, the ladies were slowly recovering 
 from their dismay, and examining, with rueful 
 looks, their scorched habiliments. The moment 
 Mrs. Caisson — the feathers on whose turban, by 
 the way, were so metamorphosed as to give her 
 head the appearance of being covered with pe- 
 nitential ashes — sufficiently recovered her ideas, 
 her first apprehension was for Georgina, about 
 whose safety she was particularly solicitous. 
 Agnes, too, having escaped without a spark, 
 immediately looked round for her friend, who 
 was nowhere visible. Her name was loudly 
 called, and the cadet, drawing back the curtain 
 with one hand, relieved her friends from their 
 anxiety. 
 
 The picture was interesting. The beautiful 
 Georgina was supported by the gallant cadet, 
 her head reclined upon his shoulder, whilst he 
 bent his enraptured gaze upon her apparently 
 inanimate countenance. He was speedily re- 
 I 3 
 
178 HORACE VERMON. 
 
 lieved from a situation which seemed to possess 
 for him such a charm. Mrs. Caisson, Agnes, 
 and other ladies, who were not wholly absorbed 
 in their own misfortunes, quickly applied re- 
 medies which, indeed, Georgina seemed to need 
 but little, for she almost immediately recovered. 
 When order was in some degree restored, 
 and the nature of the damage was found to be 
 limited to goods and chattels only, mutual in- 
 quiries ensued. The major knew pretty well 
 the nature, as well as the author of the mis- 
 chief; but, ascending to his study, as he called 
 his room where he projected his experiments, 
 he found it ransacked. Gunpowder was strewn 
 in every direction ; experimental rockets un- 
 packed ; and it was, doubtless, from this choice 
 store, that the specimen which had created such 
 consternation had been selected. Master James 
 was missing ; so that it was soon made intelli- 
 gible to all, who they had to thank for the 
 wholesale evening consumption of silks and 
 muslins. It was, indeed, as they had good rea- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 179 
 
 son to surmise. The young gentleman, feeling 
 himself aggrieved by his summary expulsion, 
 had invented this little plan for finishing the 
 entertainments with fire-works, and had turned 
 his uncle's ingenuity to account, by a careful 
 selection of his own manufacture for the pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Georgina now became anxious to return home ; 
 and the cadet, who appeared quite captivated, 
 had again the good fortune of an opportunity to 
 advance himself in her favour, by immediately 
 proposing to accompany her. As the night was 
 beautiful, and the distance extremely short, 
 they proceeded to Mr. Hopwood's house on 
 foot, the major escorting Agnes, and the cadet 
 loitering in the rear with Georgina, from whose 
 extreme simplicity and artless manner he ex- 
 pected a very easy conquest. He endeavoured 
 to amuse her on the road home by a brilliant 
 description of the Woolwich balls, the gay life 
 of an officer, and particularly of his lady, if he 
 should be married. 
 
180 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Miss Hop wood, if you did 
 but know the charm of a military life,'" said the 
 cadet. 
 
 " It must, indeed, be delightful,"' replied 
 Georgina. 
 
 *' If your papa would allow you to come to 
 our balls, I could procure your family tickets," 
 suggested Mr. Hervey. 
 
 " It would be quite impossible," said Georg- 
 ina ; " my papa does not allow me to go any- 
 where." 
 
 " What a pity !" sighed the Woolwich stu- 
 dent; "you would be so delighted with our 
 band. Do you know, a young lady eloped from 
 our last ball, with Captain Griggs. She was 
 rather too much confined at home, poor girl, 
 and chose that Avay to emancipate herself." 
 
 " How charming !" cried Georgina ; " what 
 a romantic exploit. And was Captain Griggs 
 handsome?" 
 
 " Particularly so," said the cadet ; " we are 
 supposed to have the handsomest set of officers 
 
HORACE VERNON. 181 
 
 in the service ;" and here the young gentleman 
 slightly raised one side of his shirt-collar, and 
 smoothed his incipient whiskers. " If you 
 could but come on a visit to town," hinted the 
 cadet, in continuation. 
 
 " There is not the slightest chance of it,""* 
 said Georgina, '' unless I were to elope, as the 
 young lady di4 at the ball ; but then, you 
 know, I have no Captain Griggs," she added, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Your charms might command the world !" 
 exclaimed the gallant cadet ; " but doubtless 
 your parents will shortly introduce you, and I 
 hope then to have the honour of meeting you in 
 society." 
 
 " You will wait some time," said Georgina ; 
 " for my papa says he shall have no parties for 
 years yet." 
 
 " That is cruel !" sighed the lover. 
 
 *' But here we are," said Georgina, interrupt- 
 ing the slight musing to which her last intima- 
 tion had given rise. The cadet started at the 
 
182 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 unwelcome truth, and the major having rung 
 the bell, he had no opportunity of urging ano- 
 ther sentence, but taking his leave of the young 
 ladies, with his uncle, retraced his steps towards 
 Egham. 
 
 For a few minutes, however, he allowed 
 the major to proceed alone, whilst he made a 
 rapid but minute survey of the premises. So 
 particular, indeed, was his observation, that 
 had the new police been in that neighbour- 
 hood, some unworthy suspicions might have 
 been created as to his ulterior projects. What 
 they were, we may perhaps see hereafter. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 183 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " O 'tis a parlous boy ; 
 Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable." 
 
 " They did beguile in pleasant talk 
 The weary hour away." 
 
 Time, which operates alike upon peer and 
 peasant, high and low, rich and poor — which 
 dispenses beauty to the ruin, and, en revanche^ 
 makes a ruin of beauty — had not, amid his 
 multifarious avocations, overlooked the exem- 
 plary Jack Jeffries, — who, in company with 
 his former companion, and present friend, Mr. 
 Jabez Hunsman, at this moment occupied a 
 portion of the roof of the Egham stage. 
 
 Twelve years had done their work — and sad 
 work they made of it — on the features and per- 
 
184 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 son of that individual, who, now become " John 
 Jeffries, Gent, one, Sec.,"" might justly pride 
 himself upon his condescension in accepting the 
 invitation of his friend to partake, in the lower 
 apartments, of the hospitable festivities of Mrs. 
 Maxwell. 
 
 A great change had, indeed, taken place in 
 the tout ensemble of Mr. Jeffries. The pinched- 
 up features of twelve years ago time had con- 
 trived to screw up into almost immoveable rigi- 
 dity — the smirking expression of the mouth had 
 matured into an eager grin — the eye was sub- 
 dued but prowling, — and the glossy hair of 
 former days was now not unlike the hide of that 
 animal whose grease once contributed to its 
 beauty. His clothes, however, were of an im- 
 proved cut and quality ; his shirt was unexcep- 
 tionable, and his stock cheap at one-and-six, 
 and " the last new pattern.'' 
 
 And yet, in the mental and moral depart- 
 ments, the inner man of Mr. John Jeffries had 
 varied but little. The incitements, the motives, 
 
HORACE VERSION. 185 
 
 the instincts of his youth had, indeed, expanded 
 with his circumstances, but they were, never- 
 theless, the same; and making allowance for 
 the difference of manner which a few years 
 commonly superinduce, Mr. John Jeffries, of the 
 present time, was pretty much the same Jack 
 Jeffries whom we took occasion to introduce at 
 an early stage of this history. 
 
 When we last presented this gentleman to 
 the reader it will be recollected that he was 
 engaged in the culpable but interesting employ- 
 ment of eaves-dropping ; and although it is said, 
 and truly, that listeners " seldom hear much 
 good of themselves," yet, in this instance, Jef- 
 fries contrived to hear so much evil of others, 
 as fully to compensate him for his disappoint- 
 ment, could he have felt any, in not falsifying 
 the proverb. 
 
 Ambition may be admitted to be the common 
 weakness of us all, nor was Jack exempt from 
 that failing or feeling ; for having remained, 
 for some eight years, in the capacity of head- 
 
186 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 clerk to Mr. Robinson, something stirred within 
 him, prompting an immediate dissolution of the 
 engagement so long subsisting between them. 
 In Mr. Robinson, it is true, he had seen some- 
 thing to admire, not a little to applaud, and 
 much to imitate"; but it is only natural that a 
 due consciousness of his own powers should have 
 begotten a wish to emulate his master, in a path 
 of life upon which that gentleman appeared to 
 be trudging to so profitable a purpose. Mr. 
 Jeffries accordingly found himself one evening 
 in the presence of Mr. Robinson, to whom, 
 without much unnecessary ceremony, he im- 
 parted the resolution to which he had come ; 
 requesting, at the same time, a douceur of suf- 
 ficient amount to discharge certain fees prelimi- 
 nary to independent practice, and to enable him 
 to commence his professional career in a manner 
 befitting his pretensions. 
 
 Now, Mr. Robinson was a gifted, but by no 
 means a giving man. He was surprised — as- 
 tonished — shocked. " Good God ! Mr. Jeff*ries, 
 
HORACE VRttXON. 187 
 
 what can you mean ? how caii you think ? — 
 you are mad surely? how dare you presume to 
 request ?" with other and similar interrogatory 
 fragments. 
 
 But Mr. Jeffries could mean something — 
 had his thoughts about him — was certainly not 
 mad — and did presume to request; or rather, 
 finding the money " no come," and the request 
 " no go," put himself upon another tack in- 
 stantly. 
 
 He whispered something into Robinson's ear, 
 which, at a former period, had been wafted 
 through a certain perforation into his own. We 
 have all heard of *' whispering a soft tale in a 
 lady's ear," and can imagine the sensation caused 
 by such tender avowal ; but the tale whispered 
 into the ear of Mr. Robinson created a far 
 greater sensation, and it need scarcely be ad- 
 ded, of a very different nature. In a word, 
 he acceded to the moderate demand of " his 
 worthy friend,'^ Jeffries — a man whom he had 
 always respected — whose talents he esteemed so 
 
188 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 highly — and who had been, for many years, 
 so excellent an assistant ; and, in a short time, 
 a handsome brass-plate, whereon was inscribed 
 " Mr. Jeffries, solicitor," adorned the door of 
 a neat house in May's buildings. 
 
 It cannot be deemed a remarkable circum- 
 stance, that a man of talent like Mr. Jeffries 
 should, in a short time, have established his 
 reputation as a " sharp practitioner,"' and that 
 by constantly suing for costs rather than for his 
 client, he obtained a speedy accession to his in- 
 come ; — but it was considered by his friends 
 a very extraordinary proceeding, when they 
 learned suddenly that he had taken to his bosom 
 a lady who had sworn to " love, honour, and 
 obey''" him ; a surprise that was somewhat miti- 
 gated by their subsequent knowledge of the 
 fact, that Mrs. Jeffries considered these as merely 
 verbal obligations — the good lady herself plainly 
 stating that the first two she could not, and the 
 last she would not, fulfil. 
 
 Whether this conduct on the part of his wife 
 
HORACE VERNON. 189 
 
 preyed on the mind of Mr. Jeffries, or that Mr. 
 Jeffries had a mind to prey upon other people, 
 is a problem that has never been satisfactorily 
 solved. It is certain that, about this time, 
 the worthy solicitor performed sundry financial 
 feats, which a censorious and ill-judging world 
 would conspire to believe improper and alto- 
 gether " not the thing,"" — in consequence of 
 which he lost caste in the professional world, 
 only escaped from being struck off the rolls, 
 and became considerably reduced in circum- 
 stances. Even his revered and correct father-in- 
 law threatened "not to leave him a farthing;" 
 but dying shortly afterwards in a state of utter 
 insolvency, Mr. Jeffries had the mournful satis- 
 faction of knowing and feeling that, however 
 true the menace, the old gentleman harboured, 
 in all probability, no inhuman and indecent hos- 
 tility to him. 
 
 In this deplorable plight of almost utter in- 
 solvency, an association of ideas suggested to 
 Mr. Jeffries the expediency of confining his 
 
190 HORACE VEKXON. 
 
 practice, for the future, to the Insolvent Court 
 — in which small sphere he contrived to scrape 
 together that indeterminate amount of income, 
 which permits a man to get drunk as often as 
 he chooses, to maintain a slatternly wife in beef- 
 steaks and onions and a private dram bottle, 
 and to keep four children in that state which 
 is best described by the oft-quoted adjectives, 
 " fat, ragged, and saucy." 
 
 In agreeable talk, relieved by pints of ale 
 whenever the coach stopped, our two excellent 
 friends beguiled the distance between the me- 
 tropolis and the King's Head at Egham, at 
 which inn they proposed to spend an hour pre- 
 vious to making their appearance at " the 
 House," which was but a short mile's walk from 
 that place of entertainment. 
 
 " Come, cheer up, don't be down upon your 
 luck, Jeff," said his companion, giving the other 
 a nudge which well nigh, as Hunsman wittily 
 observed, '' knocked him off his perch" — 
 " what's the matter? you don't talk." 
 
HORACE VERxVON. 191 
 
 " 1 was thinking," said Jeffries, '' what a 
 queer start that marriage was between Max- 
 well and Mrs. Miltoune." 
 
 "Wasn't it?" said Jabez : — " and how 
 cleverly you got him through afterwards. 
 That's a benevolent act, JefF. I don't know but 
 I may come the Portugal Street move myself 
 one of these days. Require much stiff, eh ?"" 
 
 *' That depends altogether on the number of 
 victims — there's nothing like a good, handsome- 
 looking schedule," replied Jeffries — " sure to be 
 sent back under a dozen creditors — nothing like 
 laying it on thick." 
 
 *' I'm the man that can do that same," cried 
 Jabez ; — " whenever I say to myself, Hunsman, 
 mind you, there's a fellow to be done, I do him 
 brown as the devil's nutting bag ; — there's no 
 mistake about me — I'm a regular 
 
 " Well, but what sort of a gentleman does 
 Maxwell make," cried Jeffries, interrupting the 
 self-complacent speech of the other ere it be- 
 came, as it usually did when Hunsman lighted 
 
192 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 upon that topic, somewhat tediously prolix, — 
 " does he carry himself respectably ?" 
 
 " Why, pretty well, thank'ee,^' replied Huns- 
 man ; " she does'nt allow him to be seen above 
 stairs very often.'" 
 
 *' Only when she plays the quiet domestic 
 character for the purpose of catching flats, I 
 suppose?" 
 
 " 'Xactly, you've hit it, JefF," said Jabez, 
 with a grin. " There he sits and says nothing, 
 by the fireside, looking straight down his nose, 
 and rubbing his hands over and over, with an 
 occasional ' hem,' and a hitch at his cravat, 
 just like some of the old respectable gentlemen 
 at the west end." 
 
 " That's the way to do it," said Jeffries. 
 
 " I brieve you," cried Jabez — " but, lord ! 
 below stairs he^s quite a different character ; 
 fond of a drop, to be sure ; and he will come it 
 strong sometimes before the servants, as it's 
 right he should; but he and I are the best 
 friends going." 
 
HORACE VERXON. 193 
 
 " And only proper you should ;" youVe been 
 a good friend to him, Hunsman."'"' 
 
 " You may say that, JefF,"" cried the other ; 
 " I was the making of him. But, lord bless 
 you, if it hadn't been for Bess, I'd have had 
 her myself," and he winked his eye know- 
 ingly. 
 
 " You would ? Her ! her?" — and Jeffries 
 treated his cheeks to a chuckle. " Vou 9 Well, 
 that beats all." 
 
 *' Wouldn't I, though .?'*"* cried Hunsman 
 with warmth, " whereas the joke ? Arn't I as 
 respectable looking an individual as here and 
 there youll find one ; a precious sight more 
 likely chap than a butler out of place, I'm 
 thinking. And I say, master Jeffries, if you 
 hadn't been in such a plaguy hurry to marry 
 your missus (and that was no great catch, it 
 strikes me), I'd have said a good word for you 
 in that quarter." 
 
 " I can speak for myself, when it concerns 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 my interest to do so," observed Jeffries, with 
 calm dignity. 
 
 " Oh yes, you know your own interest, you 
 do ? " cried the other ; •' especially in marriage 
 cases. I say, friend JefF, didn't old Curtis let 
 you in sweetly in that business, eh ? Lots of 
 blunt you touched upon that occasion, I don't 
 think — three per cents, in the Bank — Long 
 Annuities — snug freehold in Surrey. Ha! ha! 
 Oh, the old sinner!" 
 
 " The state of Mr. Curtis's affairs were well 
 known to me long before I married his daugh- 
 ter," cried Jeffries, slightly disconcerted. 
 
 " Ho! ho! they were, were they.?" retorted 
 the other. " Then why did you marry the 
 woman.?" 
 
 " Why," said the lawyer, after some hesita- 
 tion. " Why.? for love, to be sure." 
 
 " Gammon !" said Hunsman. 
 
 '' Honour !" 
 
 ''Walker!" 
 
HORACE VERNON. 195 
 
 " Well, but don't you see " 
 
 " I do," interrupted the other, and with a 
 pleasantry peculiarly his own, he took what is 
 expressively termed '' a sight"' at his compa- 
 nion. 
 
 Mr. John Jeffries was concocting in his ruf- 
 fled mind a befitting reply to this unwarrant- 
 able outrage upon his domestic affections, and 
 was about to give vent to his feelings in an 
 overwhelming burst of indignant oratory, when 
 the coach made a sudden stop at the door of the 
 King's Head. 
 
 " Well, here we are at last. Jack," cried his 
 friend. " Step down quickly, my lad— I'm as 
 cold as charity in the bosom of a lawyer." 
 
 " I shall undoubtedly get off the roof of this 
 coach," cried Jeffries, as he descended ; " but 
 it will only be to climb upon the roof of ano- 
 ther. I'll not go a step further with a man 
 who doubts the sincerity of my feelings as re- 
 gards Mrs. J. — Coachman, what's your fare?" 
 And here the insulted and sensitive lawyer 
 k2 
 
196 
 
 HORACE VERXON. 
 
 plunged his hand into his pocket, with as much 
 energy as if he were really about to draw forth 
 his purse. 
 
 " No, d — n that," said Hunsman, interpos- 
 ing; '' this is my treat; you shall stand next 
 time;'' and pushing his companion out of the 
 way, with all that urbane courtesy which distin- 
 guishes people who are bent upon what is called 
 " standing Sam,'' the liberal Jabez disbursed 
 the amount of the fare into the hands of the 
 coachman. 
 
 " What a techy fool you are," said he, as he 
 seized the arm of the other, and lugged him 
 towards the door of the inn. *' I didn't mean 
 to offend you : I thought you were too old a 
 bird to be caught with chaff." 
 
 *' Why, if you meant it as chaff " 
 
 " To be sure, I did," said Jabez earnestly. 
 " Dy'e think I suppose you're without the feel- 
 ings of a man ? You're not a brute beast, 
 Jack, are you ? " 
 
 " I hope not." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 197 
 
 " Well, then " 
 
 Appeased by this eloquent explanation, the 
 zoological conclusion of which appeared to be 
 particularly gratifying, the amiable Jack per- 
 mitted himself to be escorted to the coffee- 
 room. 
 
 Four gentlemen were seated in the respect- 
 able parlour of the King's Head as the re-united 
 friends entered, who began to look upon the 
 new comers, and then at each other, with that 
 sort of silent speculative expression which im- 
 plies a doubt whether strangers are permitted 
 entrance ; the awkward circumstance of a pub- 
 lic room not being a private one seasonably 
 occurring to memory, and preventing any au- 
 dible manifestation of displeasure. 
 
 During the pause that followed, and while 
 the waiter was employed in procuring their 
 " cold without," Jeffries and his companion 
 had full leisure to contemplate the personal 
 points of the four taciturn gentlemen. 
 
 The most imposing of these was Mr. Gray- 
 
198 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 ling, a retired city fishmonger, reputed wealthy, 
 and living in the immediate neighbourhood. 
 He was seated in a conspicuous part of the 
 room, in an arm chair, made purposely for him; 
 lest his inordinate weight should cause its more 
 fragile brethren to crash like reeds beneath its 
 intolerable pressure. A benevolent expression 
 pervaded that small portion of the centre of his 
 face in which his features might be said to be 
 comprised — all the rest consisting of two very 
 immense cheeks, and three or four chins. He 
 was busily engaged in smoking — a duty, as it 
 seemed, of almost sacred obligation — for he 
 kept his eye constantly fixed upon the bowl of 
 his pipe, and at intervals slowly protruded his 
 short-looking arm, and with a fanciful tobacco- 
 stopper kept the weed in a state of proper 
 coherence. 
 
 Nearly opposite to him, and erect as his own 
 principles, sat Mr. Clarencieux, a private gen- 
 tleman of the neighbourhood. 
 
 Extremes, it is said, sometimes meet, and in 
 
HORACE VERNON. 199 
 
 this instance they had done so ; for certainly 
 never were two intimate friends, the one so fat, 
 and the other so lean, as Mr. Grayling and 
 Mr. Clarencieux. This latter gentleman was 
 habited in grey pantaloons and black gaiters, 
 wore a blue coat buttoned close up to his chin, 
 and rejoiced in a skull of such utter desertion 
 of hair, and smoothness of surface, as to convey 
 the idea of its being polished by the housemaid 
 every morning with the furniture. In public 
 company Mr. Clarencieux delighted to exhi- 
 bit his acquaintance with the Red Book and 
 Burke's Peerage ; and a private source of grati- 
 fication to him was, the conviction that he bore a 
 considerable resemblance to Earl Grey, whose 
 contour and expression he sedulously studied, 
 and committed to memory and practice, as 
 portraits of that nobleman successively made 
 their appearance in the print shops. 
 
 The other two gentlemen, who sat, so to 
 speak, " cheek by jowl,'" were partners, Messrs. 
 Mottram and Sniggles, the surveyors, both re- 
 
200 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 sident at Egham, in the same house, inseparable 
 companions and bosom friends. The former of 
 these was a person of the middle size, and about 
 the average circumference. He had coarse light 
 hair parted in the middle, and brought round 
 on either side into a stiff" curl, not unlike a small 
 ram's horn ; and a face reminding you of the 
 visage of the king of hearts, — more especially 
 when its owner turned his eyes leeringly to- 
 wards his loquacious partner. As for Mr. 
 Sniggles, he was one of those minute persons 
 who are said to be compelled to employ a stool 
 when they would look over the fender ; with a 
 head scarcely bigger than that of a sparrow, 
 and legs which, when clothed in white gaiters, 
 suggested tobacco-pipes. Whether it was that 
 this gentleman constantly wore a green coat, or 
 that his unvarying vivacity invited such an 
 application, we know not; but amongst his fa- 
 miliar acquaintance he was known by the style 
 and title of " Grasshopper Sniggles." 
 
 And now, having, with all due ceremony in- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 201 
 
 troduced to the reader the four respectable gen- 
 tlemen who, with some others, constantly fre- 
 quented the parlour of the King's Head, it 
 may be sufficient to mention, that the ice of 
 their reserve gradually thawed, and that a con- 
 versation was begun which will be found in the 
 next chapter. 
 
 k3 
 
202 HOllACE VERNON. 
 
 CHAPTER TX. 
 
 " They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know 
 What's done i' the Capitol ; who's like to rise, 
 Who thrives, and who declines : side factions, and give out 
 Conjectural marriages." 
 
 " We'll tell thee something of this history." 
 
 *' And so you think these people no better 
 than they should be," inquired Mottram of 
 Mr. Clarencieux, as, having emptied his glass, 
 he leisurely devoured the thin slice of soddened 
 lemon-peel, whose acid properties had been 
 long ago extracted. 
 
 " I beg pardon — let me not be misunder- 
 stood,'' returned that punctilious person ; " I 
 by no means intended to convey the slightest 
 suspicion of their respectability. I am sure I 
 should be the last man in the world — it never 
 
HORACE VERNOX. 203 
 
 entered my mind — I would not, on any account 
 — I only thought their class of acquaintance a 
 little extraordinary/' 
 
 " Why, who goes to see them? None in 
 this neighbourhood, I believe," said Mottram. 
 
 " I cannot satisfactorily answer that ques- 
 tion," said Clarencieux. " The major, I fancy 
 — I don't know — I won"*t be positive — may have 
 presented himself at Beverley House. Do you 
 happen to know, Mr. Grayling, whether Major 
 Caisson visits at Beverley House?" 
 
 " Can''t say I do, upon my word and honour," 
 said the fat gentleman, unrolling a mouse-skin 
 tobacco pouch, from which he slowly replen- 
 ished his pipe. 
 
 " You have never paid your respects there, 
 Mr. Grayling?" 
 
 " Don'*t go nowhere — it's hard work to get 
 about now-a-days, upon my life," said Gray- 
 ling, extinguishing the pipe-light with the foot 
 of his glass. 
 
 " Mr. Grayling's circle of acquaintance is 
 
204 HOEACE VEENOX. 
 
 very small," said Sniggles, '" and yet he has a 
 very large round," and he glanced at the por- 
 tentous paunch of the other. 
 
 " Don't, Sniggles,"" and his partner cast an 
 oblique gaze of delight towards him. 
 
 '* Will, Mottram,'"* and the two accomplished 
 a simultaneous laugh. 
 
 " And yet,*" resumed Mr. Clarencieux, " if 
 Mr. Maxwell belongs to the Maxwells of the 
 North — a most respectable family — who have 
 
 been so long seated at let me see : God bless 
 
 me ; very odd I should forget. Umph ! ridi- 
 culous quite." 
 
 " Talking of the old ''un," remarked Jabez to 
 his friend, in an under tone, while Mr. Claren- 
 cieux was scratching the back of his ear, and 
 endeavouring to recall the name of the locality 
 of the Maxwell estate. 
 
 Jeffries answered by a kick of the shins. 
 
 " However," resumed Clarencieux, " there 
 was a Maxwell who returned from India, many 
 years ago, very rich — an immense fortune — such 
 
HORACE VERNON. 205 
 
 a fortune as people made in those days. He 
 stood for a large borough in the west of Eng- 
 land : it cost him thirty thousand pounds, for 
 he bribed every voter but one, who gave a 
 plumper to his opponent, Sir Paul Shrimpton. 
 Sir Paul petitioned the House, and the election 
 was declared invalid. Well, when the Speaker 
 arose, and requested Mr. Maxwell to retire, 
 since he was no longer an honourable member, 
 he walked slowly out of the House, without 
 making the accustomed obeisance, was seen to 
 stagger about in the lobby, made towards the 
 Vote-office, knocked his head once — only once 
 — against the door-post, and dropped down a 
 corpse." 
 
 " Pretty tough story, that,"" said Hunsman, 
 in an under tone. 
 
 " I can't swallow it," answered Jeffries, in 
 the same key. 
 
 '* I suppose,'' remarked Sniggles, " there 
 was a ^o^^-mortem examination of the body. 
 How came the post to enter his head, I wonder ; 
 
206 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 and I wonder whether his head entered the 
 post." 
 
 '' Don't be a fool, Sniggles," cried Mottram, 
 with the customary glance. 
 
 " Can't help it, Mottram," and the laughing 
 duet followed. 
 
 " Really, gentlemen," remonstrated Mr. Cla- 
 rencieux, whose face had by this time assumed 
 a beet-root tint — " this incredulity, I hope, is 
 not intended as an insult ; what I have been 
 telling you is a fact. Mr. Grayling, surely 
 you can remember the circumstance .?" 
 
 " Can't say I do," replied Grayling; " re- 
 member nothing now-a-days — upon my soul." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Mottram " 
 
 " It happened before my time," said Mot- 
 tram. 
 
 " Now, be candid, Mr. Sniggles." 
 
 " Don't happen to have heard of it." 
 
 *' Then I appeal to these gentlemen," cried 
 Clarencieux, disturbed not a little by the una- 
 nimous obliviousness of his companions. 
 
HORACE VEKXON. 207 
 
 " I think I have heard tell of it," said 
 Hunsman. 
 
 *' There," cried Clarencieux, in triumph — 
 *« there, Mr. Mottram." 
 
 " I certainly remember to have read some- 
 thing about it," said Jeffries. 
 
 " Do you hear, Mr. Sniggles ? " 
 
 While these gentlemen were exchanging ex- 
 planation, Messrs. Hunsman and Jeffries were 
 imparting to each other their private opinions 
 of the character and pretensions of Mr. Cla- 
 rencieux. 
 
 *' Precious old liar," said Jeffries. 
 
 " Isn't he ?" said Jabez. 
 
 " A monstrous bore, I should think," sug- 
 gested the lawyer. 
 
 " All jaw, like a sheep's head," returned 
 Hunsman. 
 
 '' Well, but, Mr. Clarencieux," said Snig- 
 gles, recurring to the topic which had suffered 
 a slight interruption, " what has this Mr. Max 
 well to do with that Mr. Maxwell .?" 
 
208 HORACE VEKNON. 
 
 *' Why, sir,"' cried Clarencieux, '' I was go- 
 ing on to remark, that this Mr. Maxwell may 
 be the son of that Mr. Maxwell, whom, I may 
 now state, I knew particularly well. If this 
 gentleman be his offspring, I hope he has inhe- 
 rited the dignified demeanour and polished 
 manners of his parent." 
 
 " Only think," said Jabez to his friend, " of 
 MaxwelFs being the son of a rich East India 
 nabob. Why, Jeff, his father was a killer of 
 pigs, and died in the workhouse ; and Bob was 
 brought up as a pot-boy to the Red Bull at 
 Puckeridge." 
 
 " I can only say," remarked Mottram, in 
 answer to the surmise of Mr. Clarencieux, 
 '' that it's very unlikely that this man is the 
 son of the Maxwell you speak of. Why, he's 
 one of the lowest fellows in this neighbour- 
 hood." 
 
 '* Yes, but,"" interrupted Sniggles, '' he may 
 be the son of that Maxwell, nevertheless ; for 
 
HORACE VERXON. 209 
 
 he's pretty often knocking his head against the 
 door-post of the Bald-faced Stag." 
 
 " Indeed !" cried Mr. Ciarencieux, in amaze- 
 ment, " and do you know this gentleman, 
 then.?" 
 
 " Not we,*" said Mottram, " but our clerk, 
 Girdlestone, who uses the house, knows him 
 well enough : he's always getting drunk in the 
 back parlour, in company with a vulgar sot 
 named Hunscomb, or Hunsman, or some such 
 name — a kind of half-servant, half-friend.*" 
 
 " Yes, half-and-half, with the chill oif," said 
 Sniggles. 
 
 •' Can't you be quiet, Sniggles.'''" cried Mot- 
 tram, with his usual ocular appeal. 
 
 " No, Mottram, can't be quiet,*" returned 
 Sniggles. — " Gentlemen, your very good 
 health," — and, with an amiable smile, the small 
 surveyor bowed courteously to the strangers. 
 
 " Well, sir, and I'll drink your very good 
 health, — and be d to you,*" added Huns- 
 man, in an under-tone, as he threw himself 
 
210 
 
 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 back in his chair, having feasted his eyes upon 
 the two partners with a blood-thirsty earnest- 
 ness of gaze. 
 
 " I say, Jabez,"' whispered the considerate 
 Jack, " youVe got a precious character in this 
 neighbourhood — a vulgar sot, always getting 
 drunk in the hind quarters of the Bald-faced 
 Stag-he! he! he!" 
 
 " Don't be a fool. Jack, with your he ! he ! he ! 
 like a cat with the quinsy," retorted Hunsman ; 
 " it's another of their lies ; we never takes more 
 than '11 do us good ;" and he rang the bell for 
 a fresh supply of " cold without." 
 
 At this instant. Major Caisson entered the 
 room, and was greeted by the four gentlemen 
 with much cordiality. 
 
 *•• Well, major, what news this evening?" 
 demanded Mr. Clarencieux, when the other had 
 taken his seat. 
 
 "None, that I am aware of," answered the 
 major, '' except, indeed, the grand party this 
 evening at the Maxwell's may be called so." 
 
HOJIACE VKllNON. 211 
 
 " Well, that is isery extraordinary ; — I was 
 never apprised of it," said Clarencieux with an 
 air, as if printed notices of such proceed- 
 ings were usually left at his lodgings for ap- 
 proval. 
 
 *' Oh ! these things are so common now-a- 
 days,**"* said the major, " that they can hardly 
 be called news. ' 
 
 " What most astonishes me," said Claren- 
 cieux, " is, that no ladies visit at Beverley 
 House. Do you visit the Maxwells, major .?"" 
 
 " I do not," said the major. " A young lady, 
 the daughter of Mrs. Maxwell by her first hus- 
 band. Miss Agnes Graham, has sometimes ho- 
 noured us with a visit, in company with Miss 
 Hopwood ; but I am not acquainted with the 
 family. By-the-bye, has Hopwood been here 
 this evening ?" 
 
 " Talk of the devil," said Sniggles, " here 
 he comes," as Mr. Hopwood, with unaccus- 
 tomed erectness of figure, stalked into the 
 room. 
 
212 HOllACE VERNON. 
 
 A general manifestation of that kind of 
 respect which is invariably paid to the repre- 
 sentative of wealth, followed this announce- 
 ment. 
 
 " Ha ! Hopwood," said the major, " and 
 how is it we have not seen you these two 
 nights ? Have you been ill ? What's the mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 '• I am not unwell," said Hopwood, with a 
 dignified reserve proper to the place, and, 
 perhaps, to the occasion, " but I have been a 
 little put out of my way, by hearing that the 
 carriage of my friend Lord Walgrave stopped 
 here only a few minutes ago, and that I came 
 too late to pay my respects to my young 
 friend." 
 
 *' I'm blessed if we haven't missed a chance 
 of a lift," said Hunsman to his companion ; 
 " we might have got up behind — the young 
 lord is going to the house. **' 
 
 " Never mind," said Jeffries, who was now 
 beginning to apply himself to his grog with 
 
HORACE VERNON. 213 
 
 affectionate ardour, '' we can toddle along com- 
 fortably enough presently." 
 
 '* Lord Walgrave, I presume,'* said Claren- 
 cieux, '* is one of the party at the Maxwells." 
 
 " Doubtless,*" replied Hopwood, applying his 
 handkerchief to his nose as none but rich men 
 are privileged to do — '' I had thought of seeing 
 his lordship at mi/ house before this." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Clarencieux — " a young 
 nobleman of large fortune, I believe : a snuor 
 sinecure, and a very pretty estate in Hertford- 
 shire. I know his father, the earl. Let me see — 
 the ancestor of the Walgrave family, Hugh de 
 Walgrave, came in with William the Norman, 
 and had his head cloven in twain by Harold at 
 the battle of Hastings. The arms are, I think, 
 two tigers rampant, the motto, ' Quern Deus 
 vult perdere."* Am I right, Mr. Hopwood ?'"* 
 
 " I have never noticed the crest," said Hop- 
 wood, carelessly, " and yet I have many of 
 Lord Walgrave's letters in my possession. Are 
 you going towards home, major .^" 
 
214 HORACE VKRNON. 
 
 " I am for you," said that military gentle- 
 man, as he emptied his glass. " I shall be 
 expected at home." 
 
 " And I," said Hopwood. " Good even- 
 ing, gentlemen ;""* and with an unusual majesty 
 of demeanour did Hopwood, followed by his 
 more urbane friend, vacate the parlour of the 
 King's Head. 
 
 " Hopwood doesn't seem the thing to-night," 
 remarked Mottram. 
 
 " Yes, he left rather suddenly/' said Snig- 
 gles. " I don't think he comes quite so often 
 as he used to do. Getting up in the world, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Clarencieux. " Indeed, 
 I have remarked a slight alteration in his 
 manners of late. Keeping company with no- 
 bility, gentlemen, spoils a man for respectable 
 society. Is not that your opinion, Mr. Gray- 
 ling r 
 
 " Can't say — upon my soul," — would most 
 probably have been the answer of Grayling, 
 
HORACE VERNON. 215 
 
 had not the above gentleman some time pre- 
 viously, to speak poetically, resigned himself 
 to the arms of Morpheus ; if, indeed, that 
 drowsy god could, even by a poetical fiction, 
 be imagined capable of encircling so huge a 
 rotundity. 
 
 " Fat gentleman gone to the land of Nod,""* 
 said Jeffries, putting his oar into the stream of 
 conversation. 
 
 "So it should seem, sir,"' said Mr. Claren- 
 cieux, with a sort of affable stiffness. " But 
 here is his boy, come to take him home. Walk 
 in, Thomas.*" 
 
 '' Now, Thomas, whip him up, and away 
 with him,'' said Sniggles, as the boy laid his 
 paw upon the shoulder of his master, and 
 began to shake him with rustic energy. 
 
 *' Lord love you, Mr. Sniggles," said the 
 bpy, grinning ; " master's a 'nation sight too 
 much for I to manage. Here, master, missus 
 says she can't wait no longer — the tripe '11 be 
 done to death." * 
 
216 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 This culinary intelligence had the desired 
 effect of recalling the old gentleman to this 
 waking world ; who now, having got himself 
 upon his legs, placed his immense beaver upon 
 his head, and propped by his sturdy attendant, 
 slowly betook himself to his home. 
 
 " Gargle hasn't been here lately,'" said iSIot- 
 tram, after a pause. 
 
 " No,'' returned Clarencieux, as he carefully 
 selected a sixpence from his purse, and applied 
 to his coat pocket for a penny for the waiter. 
 " No, he's too busy. Almost always at the 
 lodge, in attendance upon Mrs. Vernon. That 
 old lady is, I fear, dying." 
 
 " A fine specimen of antiquity that," said 
 Sniggles. 
 
 " Remarkably so," said Clarencieux ; " and 
 the two daughters, charming girls." 
 
 '' That's another extraordinary thing," said 
 Mottram; " Mr. Vernon, the son, visits the 
 Maxwells frequently, but the ladies have never 
 yet been known even to make a morning call." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 217 
 
 " Is that Vernon the rich banker?" hic- 
 cupped Jeffries, upon whom the '• cold with- 
 out" had worked its usual effect. 
 
 " Don't interrupt conversation," said Huns- 
 man ; " youVe a fool, Jack. I'll be bound you 
 know nothing of the party." 
 
 " Don't I though ?" cried Jeffries. 
 
 " The gentleman is right," said Clarencieux, 
 addressing Hunsman benignly. " Mr. Vernon 
 is a rich banker.'' 
 
 " Who's the fool now, Jabez," cried the ine- 
 briated lawyer. 
 
 " A very proud man," resumed Clarencieux 
 turning to the surveyors ; " and I should guess 
 not a very amiable one. We did hear, to be 
 sure, of his going to do great things for the 
 poor; but that's dropt. These monied men 
 are usually proud and selfish ; and it strikes me 
 he's no better than the rest." 
 
 " Hold there," cried Jeffries, laying down 
 his pipe ; ^' you're out there, old 'un. He's a 
 regular trump, and no mistake. I'll tell you : 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
218 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 a client of mine had been two years in White- 
 cross-street for a debt he never owed, but 
 which, mind you, he was compelled to pay ; for 
 a man can't take the benefit more than three 
 times, and he had done that, you understand. 
 Well, he hadn't a blessed mag, and had to keep 
 a wife and thirteen children out of it." 
 
 " Draw it mild," interrupted Hunsman — 
 " thirteen children ! — a baker's dozen of kids ! 
 — that's a stretcher, Jeff", any how." 
 
 *' Honour bright," said Jeffries. " Why, 
 there were eleven without the two babbies in 
 arras — twins ; and what do you call them but 
 thirteen .'^" 
 
 " Well, go on," said Hunsman ; " cut it 
 short." 
 
 " At last he thought of applying to this 
 Vernon," continued Jeffries, " whose clerk he 
 had been some years before ; and I waited on 
 my gentleman. Be hanged if he didn't come 
 and see the prisoner the very next morning, 
 tipped up a fifty, and no mistake; afterwards 
 
HORACE VERNON 219 
 
 got him a place in the Excise, put two of the 
 boys into the Marine School, and gave all his 
 washing to the wife." 
 
 " That is indeed an amiable trait," said Cla- 
 rencieux, " a most remarkable instance of ge- 
 nerosity. Here, waiter, take for my glass of 
 gin-and-water, and here's a penny for yourself. 
 — Good night, gentlemen." 
 
 The rising of Mr. Clarencieux was the occa- 
 sion of a similar movement on the part of the 
 two surveyors, and of our worthy companions, 
 who, with many blaspheming comments on the 
 unaccountable lateness of the hour, pushed on 
 towards Englefield Green ; the fuddled solicitor 
 describing in his progress such curves, zigzags, 
 and acute angles, as gentlemen when " glorious"" 
 commonly contrive to exhibit, and to which, to 
 say the truth, Mr. John Jeffries was very much 
 addicted. 
 
 L 2 
 
220 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ' You thief of love ! what, have you come by night?" 
 
 " Ah me 1 for aught that I could ever read, 
 Could ever hear by tale or history, 
 The course of true love never did run smooth." 
 
 We left our sentimental cadet_, after a close 
 examination of Mr. Hopwood's premises, fol- 
 lowing his uncle on the road home. He speedily 
 overtook him, and found the major, as usual, 
 absorbed in his own mysteries. For some time 
 they walked together in silence, each seeming 
 intent on his own speculations. 
 
 " It seems practicable," said the cadet, in a 
 musing tone of voice. 
 
 " Seems practicable !" repeated the major, 
 applying the remark to the subject which ex- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 221 
 
 clusively occupied his thoughts, " I will stake 
 my professional reputation on its practica- 
 bility." 
 
 " I was thinking of Miss Hopwood, uncle," 
 calmly rejoined the cadet, who perfectly well 
 knew what was passing in the major's mind. 
 
 " Psha ! you are always thinking of Miss 
 Hopwood,'' returned the disappointed can- 
 noneer. 
 
 " Not exactly always," said the cadet, "this 
 evening having been the first time I have had 
 the pleasure of seeing her." 
 
 " It was but yesterday that Miss What-d'j^e- 
 call-her was an angel," continued the senior. 
 
 " Miss who ?" inquired the young gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Oh, you know perfectly well ; Mrs. What's- 
 her-name's daughter, on the Green." 
 
 " Miss Graham ; ah, but she has no senti- 
 ment ; whilst her friend, the divine — " 
 
 '« No fiddlestick !" interrupted the major, 
 who, though the kindest of men, was very testy 
 
222 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 when any other subject interfered with his fa- 
 vourite theory, " what will sentiment do for 
 you, d'ye think, at the Horse-guards ? You 
 were a decent, reasonable lad when you first 
 came down here, and I thought of consulting 
 you upon a subject of extreme importance :, but, 
 what with one girl or another, your brains are 
 only fit for wadding.'^ 
 
 '' Sir, I am sorry if I have displeased you," 
 said the cadet ; "but you must allow that Miss 
 Hopwood is a charming girl." 
 
 " Instead of having Dundas in your hand, 
 which, by the way, is not half so good a study 
 as Gronhausen,'' continued the veteran ; " you 
 are puling over Byron, as if all the poetry in 
 the world can beat the music of a thirty-two 
 pounder !"" 
 
 "But surely, sir, you will allow one to ad- 
 mire," observed the cadet. 
 
 " Admire what ? a lad like you has no busi- 
 ness to admire anything beyond his studies," 
 retorted the old major ; " besides, if it is Miss 
 
HORACE VERNON. 223 
 
 Hop wood you are thinking of, I can tell you 
 she is quite out of your range. Her father is 
 an odd sort of old fellow, has strange notions of 
 perfectibility, and, I believe, would enclose his 
 daughter in a glass case, if he could, like my 
 model;' 
 
 " Well, sir, but I am a gentleman," said the 
 cadet ; " and Mr. Hopwood surely could not 
 object to me, if I were to propose for his 
 daughter. Indeed, I have reason to believe I 
 am not indifferent to the young lady herself." 
 
 " Propose !" echoed the major, indulging in 
 an exhibition of mirth at the idea, most unsuit- 
 able to the dignified feelings and pretensions of 
 the Woolwich student ; " a boy like you^ with- 
 out a penny ! and, young gentleman, were you 
 in a condition to propose, as you call it, I tell 
 you that nothing but a coronet has any chance 
 of Hopwood's consent."" 
 
 " Oh, I don't fear that," said the young gen- 
 tleman, with the easy confidence of one whose 
 knowledge of the world extended but little be- 
 
224 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 yond the road from London to Woolwich ; "se- 
 cure of the affections of the daughter, it would 
 be easy to obtain the consent of the parent." 
 
 " My dear boy/' said the major, good- 
 naturedly, " do not be too secure either of one 
 or the other. I do not profess to know much 
 of these matters, but I believe that my new- 
 code of signal-rockets will be in general use 
 long before your proposals will be recognized 
 by either father or daughter.*" 
 
 " Well, sir, we shall see,"" rejoined the cadet, 
 in no degree disconcerted by his uncle's opinion 
 of his speculation ; but feeling indifferent to any 
 other subject of conversation, the major's efforts 
 to engage him upon the subject of projectiles 
 were utterly unavailing, and in this manner 
 they reached home. 
 
 To Agnes the events of the evening were but 
 little satisfactory. It is true that the desertion 
 of her admirer had wounded her pride rather 
 than her feelings; however, it was anything 
 but pleasant to anticipate that the first appear- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 225 
 
 ance of Georgina at any future time might be 
 attended with the same result, and she sighed 
 at the thought that it was easier to make a con- 
 quest than to keep one. " At this rate,^' said 
 Agnes to herself, " I must never encourage the 
 attentions of any one, for the moment Georgina 
 comes with her demure, innocent-looking face, 
 I must wear the willow. But I suppose she 
 means no harm." And, with this good-natured 
 reflection, she heartily forgave Georgina, and 
 resigned all claim to the cadet. 
 
 When Georgina laid her head upon her pil- 
 low she could not sleep, so elated was she with 
 the success of this, her first experiment upon 
 the heart of man ; for the dumb weekly flirta- 
 tion she carried on when at school, with one 
 of the young gentlemen of a neighbouring 
 establishment, who sat in the opposite pew 
 at church, could hardly be considered one. 
 When at that very select seminary, she had, 
 in the usual routine of study, often read of 
 "broken hearts," and " unsuccessful passions," 
 L 3 
 
226 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 which she began to fancy mere invention, so 
 easy did it appear to her to bring to her feet 
 any on whom she set her mind. The poor 
 cadet ! how delighted he seemed at a kind 
 glance — an approving smile — and when she 
 allowed her hand to linger but a second in his 
 at parting, how enraptured he was ! And she 
 thought if such results arose from such trifling 
 endeavours, what a crowd of prisoners might 
 she not chain to her car had she but the oppor- 
 tunity. " Ah," thought Georgina, as the vision 
 glittered before her, " if my parents are deter- 
 mined to shut me up in this place, and debar 
 me any little innocent recreation, 1 will find 
 means to amuse myself."" And having formed 
 that independent resolution, she fell asleep and 
 dreamt of sky-rockets and cadets. 
 
 The summer was waning into autumn ; but, 
 as the evenings, though shorter, were still warm 
 and bright, Georgina would frequently saunter 
 in the garden, which was of considerable extent, 
 and thickly planted. She was sometimes ac- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 22J 
 
 companied by Agnes, and occasionally alone 
 in these home rambles, while her mother was 
 busy arranging some of the details of her esta- 
 blishment, and her father engaged with a friend 
 within, or perhaps in the parlour of the King's 
 Head, discussing local topics with the major, 
 Mr. Clarencieux, or other of his neighbours. 
 
 It was on the evening succeeding that of the 
 major''s party, that the thrifty Mrs. Hopwood 
 was superintending the making of preserves i 
 for her winter display of tarts and puddings — 
 for, though so rich, she rigidly adhered to 
 her duties as housekeeper. The respectable 
 head of the establishment was still detained by 
 his business in town, and Georgina found her- 
 self strolling through a long walk of espalier 
 apple-trees, at the extremity of the garden. 
 As she passed the garden-gate, the insecure 
 state of which she had forgotten to mention 
 during the day, she was surprised to find that 
 it had been opened from without, and left, as 
 it is called, a-jar. Not disconcerted by this 
 
228 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 suspicious appearance, she quietly pursued her 
 walk, leaving the gate as she found it ; some- 
 times stooping to pick a flower, and every now 
 and then casting a furtive glance around the 
 garden. 
 
 Close to the gate was a sort of arbour, or 
 what was originally intended to have been one. 
 The rustic seat, from want of care, had suffered 
 considerable dilapidation ; and the clematis, 
 honeysuckle, and other parasitical plants, had 
 formed a wall behind it, by the help of four 
 posts, which had been erected by the original 
 architect to aid his principal design ; but, as 
 the Hopwood family were neither horticul- 
 turally nor floriculturally disposed, nor, indeed, 
 possessed any taste in landscape gardening, the 
 design of this intended structure was entirely 
 overlooked, and the rustic erection allowed to 
 decay, under the influence of wind and weather. 
 Opposite to this seat was a small stone fountain, 
 which was kept in order by the man who con- 
 tracted to take care of the garden, because he 
 
HORACE VERNON. 
 
 found it profitable to rear gold-fish — a specula- 
 tion which had entirely escaped the calculation 
 of the sagacious Hopwood. 
 
 Georgina threw her bonnet upon the crazy 
 bench, and seating herself beside it, soon ap- 
 peared immersed in thought, whilst gazing on 
 the trickling water-drops dancing and sparkling 
 as they fell. An unusual sound disturbed her 
 from her reverie. It seemed to proceed from 
 behind the leafy screen at her back, and re- 
 sembled the sigh of a human being. She half 
 turned her head, in the attitude of deep atten- 
 tion, and had it not been that the soft night- 
 breeze played with her clustering ringlets, and 
 her bosom's rise and fall, — with her lips gently 
 apart, and her motionless features, she might 
 have been taken for an exquisite work of art — 
 so still and fair did she look in the radiant 
 moonlight ! But, excepting that her respira- 
 tion was rather quicker than usual, the slight 
 smile which played upon her lip argued no 
 sign of fear, and the smile was so slight, that 
 
230 HOEACE VEIl^^ON. 
 
 it might be doubted whether it was of plea- 
 sure or sarcasm. 
 
 A slight rustling of the foliage announced 
 more distinctly the immediate vicinity of ano- 
 ther person, and the accents, " Divine Geor- 
 gina !'' breathed in a low, soft voice, placed the 
 question beyond further doubt. Georgina 
 caught up her bonnet, and was about to move, 
 when a fio-ure emerged from the concealment 
 of the shrubs, and, in another instant, was 
 kneeling at her feet ! It was no other than 
 the sentimental and love-stricken cadet. 
 
 " Divine Georgina ! pardon the rashness 
 which has betrayed me to this step," he said, 
 in hurried accents, as if he feared the effects 
 of the step he had taken ; *' but I have no 
 other means of addressing you, and — '' but 
 Georgina had hastily put on her bonnet, and 
 drawn her shawl more closely around her, as 
 if preparing to leave the place. 
 
 " Nay, ray dear Miss Hopwood, do not quit 
 me at this moment/' urged the agitated adven- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 231 
 
 turer ; "I meant neither to alarm nor to offend 
 you : at least do not leave me in anger." Had 
 not the cadet been by far the more alarmed of 
 the two, he would have discovered but little 
 real sign either of fear or displeasure in the 
 countenance of the fair Georgina. But some- 
 thing was due to decorum, and accordingly 
 Georgina answered with becoming reserve : — 
 
 " Really, Mr. Hervey, I am both hurt and 
 surprised at your imprudence. How could you 
 have gained admittance here unknown to any 
 one ! I declare I never felt so frightened in 
 my life." 
 
 " Pardon me, dear Miss Hopwood, for caus- 
 ing you even a moment's uneasiness," sighed 
 the enterprising youth ; " but your presence 
 has become as necessary to me as the air I 
 breathe; and when did stone walls offer any 
 impediment to feelings such as mine .?" 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Hervey, I can make no reply 
 to such remarks ; for I must confess I do not 
 understand their meaning," returned Georgina 
 
232 HORACE VERNON 
 
 with naivete; ^' and I must wish you good 
 night, as mamma will be surprised at my ab- 
 sence." 
 
 " But a few moments more, for I have much 
 to say, and of importance," urged the ena- 
 moured cadet. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Hervey, what can you possibly 
 have to say to me ? " asked Georgina, with the 
 utmost simplicity of manner. 
 
 " A thousand things, charming Georgina, if 
 you will but condescend to listen." 
 
 " O, I never could stay to hear half; besides, 
 I should be much blamed if it were known." 
 
 " Blamed for listening to one, who adores 
 you ! — never ! None but hearts of stone, dead 
 to all the gentler — the nobler feelings of our 
 nature, could censure you," spouted the impas- 
 sioned admirer. 
 
 " And yet I think if my papa could see me 
 at this moment, he would entertain a different 
 opinion," said Georgina. 
 
 " Not if he knew the sincerity of my inten- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 233 
 
 tions towards you — the honour, the respect in 
 which I hold you,"" returned the student ; " and 
 I hope it will be my pleasant task to inform 
 him of all." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Georgina ; " inform 
 my papa. I would not tell him for the world.' , 
 
 " Innocent creature!" breathed the cadet to 
 himself, in the full rapture of his heart. "No, 
 loveliest of human beings, I mean to inform 
 him of my love — my devotion to you ; to ask 
 permission to visit you. To '* 
 
 " But Mr. Hervey," interrupted Georgina, 
 " it was but last evening that you saw me for 
 the first time." 
 
 " Which was sufficient to make me your's 
 for ever ! " exclaimed the cadet. 
 
 " Dear me," said Georgina, naively ; '* and 
 does it require only so short a space to bind you 
 for such a period ! What shall I find to em- 
 ploy you in .? " 
 
 " Tliere is one employment in which I could 
 never tire," whispered the love-stricken student. 
 
234 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " And what is that?" asked Georgina. 
 
 " To teach you to love ! " 
 
 " Ah, you would have a difficult task," re- 
 plied Georgina, laughing ; " for all my masters 
 say I am very stupid."" 
 
 " Grant me but the opportunity, beautiful 
 Georgina," said her lover, emphatically; — 
 " and I am sure I shall not make the same 
 complaint." 
 
 " Then you have full confidence in your ta- 
 lent," said Georgina, archly. 
 
 '' I have still greater in the gentle heart of 
 my pupil,"" said the cadet, becoming more bold 
 in his suit, from the apparent simplicity of his 
 companion. 
 
 " It is of no use," said Georgina; " it is im- 
 possible that I can love anybody so well as I 
 do my parents, or my monkey Jacko ! unless, 
 indeed, you could amuse me as he does, and run 
 up and down a pole, and crack nuts, and make 
 faces ! " 
 
 " I fear I cannot rival the feats of Jacko," 
 
HORACE VERNON. 235 
 
 said the student, his natural conceit being a 
 little wounded at the idea of so unsavoury a 
 companionship in the mind of his mistress. But 
 attributing it to her almost infantile simplicity, 
 he continued "• But I implore you, charm- 
 ing Georgina, to let me be so much your in- 
 structor, that you will learn to bestow on me a 
 portion, be it ever so slight, of your regard, — 
 dare I say it — of your love !" 
 
 "Of my love, Mr. Hervey!" exclaimed 
 Georgiana, as if she but half comprehended 
 him ; " of what possible service could that be 
 to you.?" 
 
 " Of most inestimable service, lovely girl : 
 it would make me the happiest of men," sighed 
 her admirer. 
 
 " I scarcely understand you," said the artless 
 Georgina. 
 
 " Charming simplicity!" uttered the enrap- 
 tured cadet to himself. " I will explain to 
 you how your love would render me happy," 
 he said. " I would on the instant fly to your 
 
236 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 respected father, explain to him the state of our 
 hearts, and claim your hand. Then, my beau- 
 tiful Georgina, united, we might glide down 
 the stream of life, regardless of the frowns of 
 fate." 
 
 " United ! what do you mean, marriage ? O 
 that would never do. Mamma says I must not 
 think of such things for many years," returned 
 Georgina, quickly. " But tell me, Mr. Her- 
 vey, you said at first, when you wished me to 
 stay for a few minutes, that you had something 
 of importance to say to me. I have been all 
 this time dying to know what it is, for I do 
 love ' a secret." Georgina cast a sly glance 
 from beneath the shade of her bonnet, at the 
 disappointed countenance of her companion, as 
 if she were curious to see the effect. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Hervey, don't keep me any 
 longer in suspense," she continued, laughing ; 
 " or I shall never love you half so well as 
 Jacko." 
 
 " Loveliest of beings," exclaimed the cadet, 
 
HORACE VERNON. 237 
 
 determined not to be disheartened at what 
 might appear to be an inauspicious commence- 
 ment of his suit. " Have I then not been for- 
 tunate enough to make myself sufficiently un- 
 derstood ? I have but one secret in the world, 
 and that I have already told you — 1 love, I 
 adore you ! "" and the disconsolate cadet seized 
 her hand, and sinking upon one knee, in a most 
 picturesque attitude, began to cover it vehe- 
 mently with kisses. 
 
 '^ Well, Mr. Hervey," said Georgina, pout- 
 ing, and gently withdrawing her hand, " I 
 thought you were going to tell me something 
 about the accident yesterday evening — whether 
 your aunt's blonde cap was totally spoilt — or if 
 Mr. Clarencieux was determined upon wearing a 
 wig — or that poor dear little Fido was sick with 
 eating plum-cake ; and after all you only re- 
 peat to me the fine things you have read in 
 plays." 
 
 " I swear to you. Miss Hop wood, that what 
 I have said is as sincere as truth can make it," 
 
238 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 energetically exclaimed the mortified young gen- 
 tleman, finding the extreme simplicity of his 
 companion, charming as it might be at any 
 other time, most unsuitable to the development 
 of his passion. " But if my language is pow- 
 erless, surely so lovely an evening must have 
 some softening influence on such poetic feelings 
 as I have believed you to possess — as I am sure 
 you do possess. Let nature then speak for 
 me, with her breath of perfume, and her bright 
 golden lights ;" and he pointed towards the 
 heavens, with all the dignity and effect of the 
 principal tragedian of a county town ; " and 
 hark ! as if to aid my appeal, the voice of the 
 nightingale, beautiful Georgina, that always 
 sings of love !" 
 
 '' O, no, Mr. Hervey,*" interrupted Georgina, 
 " that is not the nightingale, it is only our 
 housemaid Susan's little blind robin that you 
 hear ; it always sings by candle-light. What a 
 shame it is, is it not, Mr. Hervey, to put out 
 poor little birds' eyes to make them sing." 
 
HORACE VEIINON. 239 
 
 Mr. Hervey seemed quite confounded at this 
 reply to his touching appeal ; and had he seen 
 the comic glance which Georgina stole at him, 
 he would have almost forsworn sentiment ; as 
 it was, he nearly sunk upon the crazy bench 
 on which Georgina was seated, and muttered 
 some incoherent answers ; but was speedily re- 
 called to himself by Georgina preparing to 
 retire. 
 
 " Now I really must wish you a good even- 
 ing, Mr. Hervey," she said, adjusting her light 
 shawl; *' Susan, or somebody, will certainly be 
 sent to look for me."" 
 
 '' And will you leave me thus," sighed the 
 disconsolate Hervey, bending upon her almost 
 as imploring a look as a despairing debtor 
 would to a Jew attorney. 
 
 " Leave you, how, Mr. Hervey," asked 
 Georgina, in the most artless tone of surprise. 
 *' Dear me, I hope you are not ill ? " 
 
 *' Cruel girl, I am indeed ill — at heart," 
 urged the despairing lover : " Have I not un- 
 
240 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 locked , for your ear, the secret of my breast ; 
 and I fondly hoped, from one like yourself, of 
 so congenial a spirit to my own, that I should 
 not have sued in vain. Do but tell me, how- 
 ever, that I may not despair; give me some 
 hope!" 
 
 " Why, Mr. Hervey,"' said Georgina, " I 
 could almost fancy that you were talking seri- 
 ously, if I had not known that you had said all 
 these fine speeches to Agnes." 
 
 " Oh I Miss Hopwood, surely, surely you 
 cannot suppose that I have spoken to Miss Gra- 
 ham in the same feeling with which I have 
 addressed you. You cannot believe " 
 
 " Take care, Mr. Hervey, or you will break 
 down the bench ! " interrupted Georgina sud- 
 denly, as the student, in the energy of his 
 appeal, had again possessed himself of her 
 hand, and had almost overbalanced himself 
 in the exploit. 
 
 " Grant me, then, but some little token, 
 that I may not consider myself wholly indif- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 241 
 
 ferent to you/"' passionately cried the man of 
 sentiment. 
 
 '' La ! Mr. Hervey, what can I give you .?" 
 returned Georgina, trying in vain to disengage 
 her hand ; '' I have nothing but a bodkin-case, 
 and a little gold pin which Agnes gave me; 
 and you know — " 
 
 " No, no, these are not the gifts I covet," 
 cried the intrepid wooer, drawing closer to the 
 side of Georgina. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Hervey, you must not ; I will 
 not be detained," said Georgina, pettishly, as 
 the enterprising cadet encircled her small waist 
 with his left arm, and was gently drawing her 
 towards him. 
 
 " But one pressure of those beautiful lips," 
 sighed, the lover in a half whisper, as if 
 he were afraid to speak aloud his audacious 
 hope. 
 
 " Mr. Hervey ! sir ! you will affront me ! let 
 me go ! I insist !" ejaculated Georgina, strug- 
 gling to free herself from these unexpected ad- 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 vances ; for the cadet deemed it now a point of 
 honour to obtain " the token,'' as he called it, 
 and was pressing its fulfilment most ener- 
 getically. 
 
 '' But one ! nay, now, beautiful Georgina !*" 
 But his beautiful Georgina was now seriously 
 angry, and made so violent an effort to dis- 
 engage herself, that the fragile garden seat was 
 unable to withstand the shock ; crack went 
 both the front legs, and down tumbled the 
 crazy bench, with its occupiers, to the ground ; 
 Georgina, in the most unpicturesque manner, 
 sprawling across the prostrate man of senti- 
 ment. 
 
 " Well, I'm sure !"' exclaimed a female voice, 
 pitched in the highest tone of astonishment, and 
 which seemed to proceed from the direction of 
 the garden-gate. 
 
 It was but the work of a moment for both 
 parties to regain their erect position. The 
 cadet stood for a moment irresolute ; but it 
 was only for a moment, for Georgina most un- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 24;3 
 
 ceremoniously thrust him forward to the gate, 
 towards which, with this additional impulse, he 
 mechanically made his way, and, in the hurry 
 of his egress, nearly upset a figure who was 
 standing at the entrance, apparently as much 
 surprised at the scene, as the cadet himself was 
 at the unexpected interruption. He had scarcely 
 cleared the threshhold, when the gate was 
 slammed behind him, and bolted, and he found 
 himself in the lane outside, face to face with 
 Miss Agnes Graham. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Hervey,'' said Agnes, who 
 was the first to recover herself, " this is, in- 
 deed, an unexpected meeting ; this is the effect 
 of moonlight and sentiment !" 
 
 " And pray. Miss Graham," said the Wool- 
 wich student, recovering himself in some de- 
 gree from this most unexpected denouement to 
 his amatory hopes, " and pray what singular 
 chance, may I ask. makes you a wanderer by 
 moonlight, and at this spot too ?" 
 
 '* Oh, that is soon told," replied Agnes. " I 
 M 2 
 
244 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 have been to see your aunt this evening, Mr. 
 Hervey, and returning home with the servant, 
 I thought I observed the garden-gate unclosed, 
 and ran down to see, not expecting, I must 
 confess, to witness such strange moonlight 
 gambols." 
 
 '• Whatever construction you may put upon 
 what you witnessed, Miss Graham, I do assure 
 you it was entirely my own seeking ; Miss 
 Hopwood was quite an unintentional party to 
 it,'' said Mr. Hervey ; and placing his hand 
 upon his heart, he added, " and I hope my in- 
 tentions are above suspicion." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, sir," replied Agnes ; 
 " and I am quite willing to allow you all the 
 credit of the exploit. I should only advise 
 you on any similar occasion to be a little more 
 circumspect, for had Mr. Hopwood been pass- 
 ing instead of myself, your intentions might 
 have been mistaken. But, to be sure, he is 
 so extremely particular, and has no notion to 
 what lengths sentiment may at times lead a 
 
HORACE VERNON. 245 
 
 gentleman. I wish you a very good night, 
 sir. 
 
 " One word , more, Miss Graham, if you 
 please," said the cadet, distantly ; " you are 
 welcome to the amusement which this little 
 accident may afford you, so far as it concerns 
 me ; but I trust you will remember that your 
 friend, Miss Hop wood, may be compromised 
 by any indiscreet mention of her name." 
 
 "Oh, do not fear that, Mr. Hervey," said 
 Agnes ; "the affair is doubtless of your own 
 planning, and I would not mention Georgina's 
 name for the world. If Mr. Hopwood should 
 hear of it, I don't know what might be the 
 consequence." 
 
 " He has heard quite enough — and too 
 much," was repeated in a high key, which was 
 immediately recognized as the voice of the re- 
 tired jeweller himself, who instantly made his 
 appearance, accompanied by Major Caisson, 
 before the astonished pair. The fact was, that 
 Mr. Hopwood had invited the major home that 
 
246 
 
 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 evening as they walked from the King's Head ; 
 for he felt anxious to communicate to him his 
 rising prospects, which, as a man of good con- 
 nexions, and of rank in the world, he might be 
 supposed justly to appreciate. Full of these 
 important speculations, he nearly reached his 
 gate, when glancing down the lane, his eye 
 caught two figures apparently in close com- 
 munion at the garden-gate. The recollection 
 of the forcible entry of the preceding year 
 came full upon him, and supposing he had now 
 a chance of securing the delinquents, he stole 
 noiselessly on the turf, concealed by the deep 
 shadow of a row of elms, which skirted the 
 garden- wall, and arrived just in time to catch 
 the few words in which his own name was re- 
 peated. The situation was one of extreme em- 
 barrassment for Agnes ; with a word she might 
 have explained it ; but rather than betray her 
 friend Georgina, she preferred risking the most 
 unpleasant consequences. 
 
 " I have heard quite enough," repeated the 
 
HORACE VERNON. 247 
 
 usually placid Mr. Hopwood, who seemed now 
 unusually excited — his moral sensitiveness being 
 completely outraged by what appeared to him 
 so flagrant a breach of decorum. — "And Miss 
 Graham, too, whom I have considered so exem- 
 plary a young lady — the friend of my innocent 
 girl — I am shocked, disappointed, hurt," and 
 he jerked up his hands, eyes, and shoulders, 
 with the precision of a pasteboard harlequin 
 moved by the ingenious mechanism of a pack- 
 thread. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Hopwood, you are making more 
 of this than occasion justifies," said Mr. Her- 
 vey, sharply ; " my meeting with Miss Graham 
 was accidental." 
 
 " An odd place for an accidental meeting, 
 sir," said Mr. Hopwood, stiffly ; " but it is no 
 affair of mine — certainly not ; but — " 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Hopwood, I am not to blame," 
 interrupted Agnes, much hurt at the suspicion 
 which was evidently raised against her ; " I 
 was returning home from Mrs. Caisson's when 
 
218 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 I met Mr. Hervey, and the servant is now 
 within sight who is waiting for me." 
 
 " Come, come, neighbour Hopwood," inter- 
 posed the good-hearted major, "I see nothing 
 so very remarkable in all this. My nephew 
 meets the young lady, and has something to 
 whisper in her ear, I suppose, and leads her a 
 step out of the road. We have done the same 
 ourselves, I dare say, scores of times." 
 
 " Oh, I do not wish to judge harshly, major," 
 said Mr. Hopwood more quietly. " I only 
 mean to say such meetings are imprudent — 
 very ; and in this place, too, the abode of in- 
 nocence !" and he pointed to his daughter's 
 chamber-window. " I do not intend to hurt 
 your feelings, Miss Graham, not in the least ; 
 but young ladies cannot be too particular. I 
 would not even hint such a circumstance to 
 my Georgina ; in fact, she would scarcely com- 
 prehend it ; her mind is like a sheet of un- 
 sullied writing-paper, thanks to my system of 
 education. But remember. Miss Graham, I 
 
HORACE VERNOV. 249 
 
 cast no reflections upon you," he continued, 
 seeing the distress of Agnes ; " you have merely 
 been a little imprudent— a fault which good 
 advice and example will correct." 
 
 " Nephew, you had better go home," inter- 
 posed the major, willing to close the scene, 
 which was evidently painful to Agnes, parti- 
 cularly as she could not say a word in her own 
 justification without involving her friend ; " and 
 say to your aunt, that she must not expect me 
 yet, as I shall see Miss Graham home." The 
 cadet did not stay for a second hint, as his 
 situation was sufficiently awkward, and making 
 a very formal inclination to the parties, he 
 quitted the spot. 
 
 "And now, major, I must tell you," said 
 Mr. Hop wood, gravely, the moment the cadet's 
 back was turned, " you have conferred no great 
 benefit to our quiet neighbourhood by the in- 
 troduction of your two nephews ; one is the 
 terror of everybody with his gunpowder freaks, 
 and the other, it seems, would be more danger- 
 M 3 
 
250 HORACE VEllNON. 
 
 ous still. If I had your leave, I would cer- 
 tainly put that younger scapegrace in the 
 stocks. He laughed in my face the other day 
 when I shook my stick at him, and actually de- 
 clared he would tie a cracker to my coat tail I" 
 
 " You would do me a favour if you would 
 chastise him severely," said the major, who 
 had offered his arm to Agnes, and was proceed- 
 ing with her and Hopwood into the high road ; 
 "but I fear he is incorrigible. I shall send 
 him to sea the first opportunity. The other 
 will speedily return to Woolwich." 
 
 Mr. Hopwood had preceded the major a few 
 steps, to ring the bell at his gate, when sud- 
 denly a vivid flash of fire was seen for a moment 
 to envelope his legs, which was immediately 
 succeeded by a report like that of a pistol. 
 The good gentleman vaulted from the ground 
 as if he had received the shock of a gal- 
 vanic battery, and some missile was seen whirl- 
 ing around and about him, as if directed 
 by an unseen hand, occasionally striking him 
 
HORACE VERNON. 251 
 
 in its eccentric evolutions, on the face, head, 
 and shoulders, accompanied by a succession of 
 deafening reports, and a shower of fire. 
 
 Agnes was alarmed beyond expression, whilst 
 the major, without knowing, or even thinking 
 of the cause of so extraordinary and serious an 
 accident, rushed to his assistance, and, if pos- 
 sible, to relieve him from so formidable an ad- 
 versary. On his approach, however, he was 
 struck such a violent blow in the face, that he 
 staggered back to the palings for support ; 
 whilst the persecuted Hopwood, holding the 
 gate fast with one hand, was ringing at the 
 bell violently with the other, his head tucked 
 in between his shoulders, to avoid as much as 
 possible the assaults of his unknown enemy — 
 screaming " Fire V and " Murder !" at the 
 top of his voice, and stamping his feet upon 
 the ground, like a maniac, from fear and pain. 
 
 Such was Mr. Hopwood's energetic appeal 
 to the bell-pull, that a few seconds had hardly 
 elapsed, before the door opened, and Mrs. Hop- 
 
252 HORACE VERKON. 
 
 wood, and Susan the housemaid appeared, pre- 
 ceded by a long-legged boy in a pepper and salt 
 coloured jacket, a white face and carrotty hair, 
 and armed with a kitchen-poker of most for- 
 midable dimensions. Just at that time the fiery 
 persecutor appeared to have exhausted its rage ; 
 for, striking Hopwood on the knuckles so vio- 
 lently as to cause him to wring his hand with 
 the pain, it ceased altogether. 
 
 Great was the astonishment of the inmates of 
 the lodge, at beholding their master in this 
 strange plight, and, to them, without any per- 
 ceptible cause. Assisted by the major, Mr. 
 Hopwood made his way into his comfortable, 
 well-furnished parlour, and swallowed a glass 
 of brandy to recall his wandering faculties. 
 And then it was that the major solved this most 
 mysterious riddle, in answer to the thousand 
 questions put to him by an anxious wife and 
 curious household. He observed something 
 lying upon the sofa on which Mr. Hopwood 
 had placed himself, and taking it in his hand, 
 
HORACE VERNON. 253 
 
 it proved to be the remains of an enormous 
 cracker, secured by a string, which was traced 
 to the skirt of Mr. Hopwood's coat, to which it 
 was securely fastened. 
 
 Of course they were at no loss in guessing the 
 author of this ingenious piece of mischief, which 
 was doubtless effected during the parley at the 
 garden-gate. Indeed, Agnes might have placed 
 the matter beyond a doubt ; for, as she stood 
 an affrighted but quiet spectator of the proceed- 
 ings, she saw the major's urchin nephew standing 
 behind the low hedge on the opposite side of the 
 road, throwing his cap in the air, and laughing 
 and yelling with the most demoniac delight 
 during the period of poor Mr. Hopwood's 
 greatest perturbation. He had evidently been 
 at some pains to accomplish his threatened pur- 
 pose, as hinted at by the unsuspecting Hop- 
 wood, on the departure of the cadet. 
 
 When the cause of all this uproar was 
 brought to light and explained by the major, 
 each seemed to consider it a duty to add some- 
 
254 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 thing by way of indignation and reproach to 
 the unworthy author of such an outrage. 
 
 " And to think of his daring to do such a 
 thing to such a man as Mr. Hop wood !" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Hopwood, with elevated eye- 
 brows, and a wondering look, as if such an 
 unparalleled act of audacity was quite beyond 
 her comprehension. 
 
 " Oh, la ! mem," cried Susan, " I do believe 
 he dare do anything ; it was but the other day 
 that poor old Mrs. Grimes had just stepped in 
 with some new milk for Mrs. Sniggles' children 
 at Egham, when what does he do but tie one 
 of them nasty things to the cow's tail, and off 
 the poor thing scampers down the street like 
 mad, and Mrs. Dawkins's little girl, as keeps 
 the huckster's shop, you know, mem, was cross- 
 ing at the time with a penn^orth of treacle to 
 make posset for old Mrs. Jinks, as is bedridden, 
 you know, mem, when away goes the poor cow 
 right over her, and breaks the cup all to 
 shivers !" And Susan having communicated 
 
HORACE VERNON. 255 
 
 with a most rapid utterance this awful fact, 
 looked aghast at her own narrative. 
 
 " Oh, major, major !" ejaculated Mrs. Hop- 
 wood, "I never shall be able to endure fire- 
 works again as long as I live. I do hope you 
 will remove that sad boy before something 
 more serious happens." 
 
 " Rely upon it he shall not remain here 
 long," answered the major, who had been over- 
 looked in the all-absorbing interest created by 
 the head of the establishment, but who bore the 
 marks of his nephew's exploit more than the vic- 
 tim for whose benefit it was more especially in- 
 tended. One side of the veteran's face was as 
 awfully begrimed with gunpowder as if he 
 had been working at a two-and- thirty pounder, 
 and one of his whiskers, which, by the way, 
 whether from habit, or from a lingering rem- 
 nant of military pride of appearance, he still 
 cultivated with some success, had completely 
 vanished. 
 
 "And how do you feel now, my dear sir?" 
 
256 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 inquired the major, observing that his friend 
 Hopwood's face began gradually to resume its 
 natural appearance, and feeling, perhaps, that 
 the accident might in some degree, though re- 
 motely, be attributed to himself, or rather to 
 his pursuits. 
 
 " Better, major, better," returned the head 
 of the family, having recovered himself suffi- 
 ciently to find the use of his tongue ; '• sad 
 dog, major, that of your's ; sad young dog; 
 what's to become of him ? He will come to 
 the gallows, depend upon it ; pity you did not 
 bring him up to business ; the Lord Mayor and 
 Bridewell would have cured his wildness. 
 Your gunpowder, major, has turned his brain ; 
 and my coat, too, it is entirely spoilt, I declare," 
 he added, in an altered tone, ruefully handling 
 his singed skirts. 
 
 " He shall repent it, Mr. Hop wood, rely on 
 it," returned the major, with as much indigna- 
 tion as his nature would allow him to assume ; 
 " he shall go to sea in a collier, if I can find no 
 
HORACE VERNON. 257 
 
 other place for him. He shall not remain here, 
 that's positive."" 
 
 " But where is my dear love, Georgina ?" 
 asked the resuscitated parent, as if astonished 
 at not having missed her before. " I am glad 
 she has not witnessed this accident to her 
 father ; it would have been too much for her 
 susceptibility." 
 
 "Here she is," cried Mrs. Hopwood, who 
 had left the room for a few moments to seek 
 her. " I found the dear child in her own 
 apartment, quite unconscious of what was pass- 
 ing, reading ' Hervey's Meditations.' " 
 
 Georgina flew to her father's arms, and in- 
 quired about his health with true filial anxiety ; 
 but happening to cast her eyes on the major's 
 grotesque physiognomy, she was seized with 
 so violent a fit of coughing that she was obliged 
 on the instant to quit the room, accompanied 
 by Agnes. 
 
 " Poor child ! she is sensibly affected," re- 
 marked the fond father, pathetically ; " you see 
 
258 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 the happy effects of education, major ; but 
 what is the matter with your face ? Susan, 
 run for some soap and water; what can it 
 be ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing material," answered the major, 
 feeling with his hand, for the first time, the loss 
 he had sustained, and bearing it with the equa- 
 nimity of a stoic ; " merely a few of the sparks, 
 which, it seems, have caught me." And, apply- 
 ing himself to the soap and water, he removed 
 the particular cause of Georgina's extreme sen- 
 sibility, before she returned to the room. 
 
 The respectable head of the Hop wood esta- 
 blishment having now entirely recovered him- 
 self, the major and Agnes took their departure, 
 leaving the events of the evening to be discussed 
 in the family circle. 
 
 " Remember," said Georgina, as she whis- 
 pered to Agnes, "not a syllable about the 
 garden-gate ! I will tell you all about it ano- 
 ther time.'' Agnes pressed her hand as she left, 
 in token of acquiescence. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 259 
 
 " My dear," remarked Air. Hopwood gravely 
 to his wife, after their daughter had retired, 
 " perhaps it might be as well not to encourage 
 Miss Graham quite so much as a companion to 
 our innocent girl." 
 
 '•• Mr. Hopwood !" exclaimed Mrs. Hop- 
 wood, in a tone of surprise and inquiry. 
 
 '' Why, my love, she is more in the world 
 than I like to see young persons," returned 
 Hopwood, apologetically. " Besides, my dear, 
 we know very little of her connexions, and I 
 have views for Georgina of a very different 
 nature — very different," he repeated thought- 
 fully ; '' but I am unfit for anything to-night ; 
 I will explain to you another time." And re- 
 garding his wife with an expression of most 
 mysterious meaning, the virtuous and circum- 
 spect Hopwood retired to his pillow, leaving 
 to his better half the task of seeing " all things 
 safe," which was, on ordinary occasions, his 
 own duty. 
 
 Mrs. Hopwood gazed wistfully after her re- 
 
260 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 tiring spouse, whose hints sounded so strangely 
 to her ear, that, by an extraordinary association 
 of ideas, she thought of Dr. Willis and the 
 wonderful reputation he acquired in regard to 
 persons of an erratic turn of mind, and won- 
 dered on whom, now- a days, his mantle had 
 fallen. She then went to " look after the ser- 
 vants," and close the establishment as early as 
 possible. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " I've changed my state to better my condition. " 
 
 " Fill full ! Why this is as it should be : here 
 Is my true realm." 
 
 The reader doubtless will have gathered, 
 out of the discourse of Messrs. Hunsman and 
 Jeffries, as they sat on the roof of the Egham 
 stage, sufficient materials wherewith to raise a 
 suspicion of the course of life pursued by Mrs. 
 Miltoune since the death of the Earl of 
 Charleston. It will be necessary, however, 
 that we should state a little more in full, and 
 yet briefly, the career of that lady during the 
 last twelve years. 
 
 % 
 
262 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 Mrs. Miltoune, then, finding the only check 
 upon the free exercise of her talents removed 
 (for the earl had in some measure acted as a 
 restraint upon her naturally volatile disposi- 
 tion), with a sum of three thousand pounds in 
 her pocket, and as many more charms of person 
 as her numerous admirers were pleased to as- 
 cribe to her, was resolved to maintain such 
 a standing in society as her various claims 
 seemed to warrant her in assuming. 
 
 With this view she made herself mistress of 
 an extensive and costly mansion in Pall-Mall ; 
 liquidated her more pressing demands just so 
 far as to enable her to get deeper into her old 
 tradesmen's books, and to whet the appetite 
 of new applicants for the honour of her name 
 in their ledger ; and, in a word, went on for a 
 few years swimmingly. Her position in society 
 was equivocal, it is true ; but then the world 
 is so censorious, and it is a difficult matter for 
 an unprotected woman to steer clear of calumny 
 and misrepresentation in these, or, indeed, in 
 
HORACE VERNON. 263 
 
 any other times. We, at least, will not add to 
 the number of her detractors, but content our- 
 selves with observing that Mrs. Miltoune en- 
 joyed the confidence and friendship of a large 
 circle, chiefly composed — for women are so en- 
 vious of superior genius — of the male sex. 
 
 But this agreeable life was not to last, or 
 rather, it would be better to say, was destined 
 for awhile to be interrupted. It is a sad 
 thing when ladies — more especially ladies of 
 fashion, and other irresistible pretensions — per- 
 mit their outgoings to bear no reasonable pro- 
 portion to their incomings ; or, to speak in truly 
 financial phrase, when they will insist on a sur- 
 plus of expenditure over income. It requires 
 no attentive reference to a ready reckoner to 
 show that, in such cases, a deficit will inva- 
 riably be observed. Mrs. Miltoune, how- 
 ever, without being herself a ready reckoner, 
 was one who frequently reckoned upon the 
 " ready," and generally with very good reason 
 for such sort of calculation ; but it was not 
 
264 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 always applied to such common-place purposes 
 as "paying her way." We do not like to 
 dwell upon such paltry and debasing topics; 
 but historical truth compels us to add that the 
 landlord of the expensive establishment in Pall- 
 Mall was a weak man, and had a strange pas- 
 sion for rent, particularly when it became due, 
 and that it was mere misfortune on the part of 
 Mrs. Miltoune to be the tenant of such a man : 
 added to which, her tradesmen were vulgar 
 men with large families, and with intellects so 
 obscured by traffic, that although able enough 
 to make out their own accounts, they were sorely 
 puzzled to make out the accounts of Mrs. Mil- 
 toune, which were at that time rife in the neigh- 
 bourhood. In a word, these unsentimental 
 dealers and chapmen, instead of applying any 
 longer to the lady, applied to the law. Mr. John 
 Doe, and Mr. Richard Roe, were once more 
 called upon to bear witness to the pecuniary de- 
 linquencies of Mrs. Miltoune, and that perse- 
 cuted and much injured woman felt herself c'on- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 265 
 
 strained, with most unbecoming precipitation, 
 to retire into temporary obscurity. 
 
 It was in this dilemma that Mr. Maxwell 
 found favour in her sight. Mr. Maxwell had 
 for many years occupied the comparatively 
 humble, though respectable station of butler in 
 a nobleman's family, but was then a denizen 
 of private life ; and having, during his domestic 
 sojourn in good society, acquired a sort of 
 " Brummagem " gentility of appearance, was 
 admirably calculated for a husband of conve- 
 nience. Mrs. Miltoune, at least, thought so ; 
 and why should we doubt her taste, or dispute 
 her feeling ? The worthy gentleman himself had 
 no scruple — no objection to the matrimonial 
 arrangement. To use his own words, " he was 
 quite agreeable ;" and being a kind of per- 
 sonified passive-verb — which implies suffering 
 — was perfectly content still to endure, so long 
 as he was furnished with the means of existence. 
 Mrs. Miltoune accordingly bestowed upon Mr. 
 Ma^ywell her hand and her— liabilities ; and 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 that truly philosophical gentleman was sued, 
 pursued, and, after some ingenious skirmishing, 
 was incarcerated after the usual manner of 
 " free-born Britons."" In due process of time 
 he invoked the " benefit of the act," and, by 
 the professional acumen of Mr. John Jeffries, 
 was soon permitted to emerge from a small 
 square room in a prison, to his own family 
 circle. 
 
 It were, we fear, too delicate a task to en- 
 deavour to show to the curious or inquiring 
 reader, the means whereby Mrs. Maxwell ob- 
 tained the wherewithal to enter upon the man- 
 sion at Englefield Green. Let it then be sup- 
 posed that she possessed a sort of talismatic 
 touch — alchymical lore — an " open sesame" 
 kind of talent, or rather an Aladdin lamp-like 
 genius ; and then suppose that the spirit she 
 invoked to accom.plish these desirable works 
 appeared in the likeness of a distinguished 
 nobleman, who will readily be known as a dip- 
 lomatist of first-rate rank — one who has had 
 
HORACE VERNON. 267 
 
 the singular good fortune to withstand the 
 shock of kings, of parties, of generations, and, 
 though always in the way, has never yet been 
 overthrown ; of such varied talent as to be 
 equally distinguished in a lady's boudoir, or in 
 the closet of the minister ; of so ready a pen 
 that it would be difficult to say whether he ex- 
 celled in a hillet-douoc, or a protocol ; of reason- 
 ing so persuasive that his purpose would be 
 achieved, whether through the tortuous mazes 
 of policy, or the subtleties of the female mind ; 
 a very dragon of watchfulness over the interest 
 and honour of his country, yet the charm of 
 society; and, in all the little amiabilities so 
 peculiarly attractive in private life — those arts, 
 whether natural or acquired, without which no 
 man may hope to obtain any reputation with 
 the sex — the most successful, the most amiable 
 of impostors. 
 
 And his tastes, too ! — whatever his enemies, 
 political or personal, might say in detraction, 
 there was one which could not be controverted — 
 N 2 
 
268 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 his taste for upholstery ! And truly, Mrs. 
 Maxwell's mansion at Englefield Green^ one 
 would have thought, had been superintended by 
 such a genius; for no appliances were wanting 
 to render it a perfect Elysium. All that could 
 charm the eye ; the lady herself, the pictures, 
 plate, bijouterie, the elaborate furniture, the 
 costly hangings, the infinite upholstery, were 
 there — all were there — nothing too much: — to 
 borrow a phrase from the erudite and enrap- 
 tured Jabez Hunsman, who wished to convey 
 his notion of the perfection of luxury, '' they 
 were up to their knees in Brussels carpets." 
 And then the gardens were laid out in the best 
 and most approved taste, and as to the cellar of 
 wines, it was unexceptionable. 
 
 The party which Mrs. Maxwell had invited 
 on the evening before adverted to, not being 
 numerous, was of course select ; such descrip- 
 tion being now-a-days invariably applied to 
 any small number of human beings, whether 
 congregated at the mansion of a marquis in 
 
HORACE VERNON. 26*9 
 
 May-fair, or the house of a butcher in White- 
 chapel. It was, we have said, a select party. 
 There was lolling, half asleep upon a sofa, the 
 Duke of Rockingham — a nobleman, whose sole 
 business in this life seemed to be to dress, to 
 take snuff, and to wait till apoplexy could find 
 leisure to take charge of him. And there was 
 his son and heir, the Marquis of Marigold, a 
 distinguished orator on agricultural distress, 
 a perpetual president of county meetings, a 
 Colonel of Yeomanry who dined with his corps 
 once a year, a zealous friend of farmers who 
 could afford to pay rent, a staunch supporter 
 of the corn-laws and dear bread, and one who, 
 like the unfortunate Maria Antoinette, won- 
 dered at the poor being hungry, when '' three 
 such nice cakes could be bought for a half- 
 penny !"" Then there was my Lord Walgrave, 
 who has been already introduced to the reader ; 
 and Mr. Robinson in his green spectacles, of 
 whose private character and virtues we have 
 heretofore tendered specimens. In addition to 
 
270 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 these, was the Honourable Mr. Scampington, a 
 gentleman about thirty years of age, and six feet 
 in height, with a ruddy complexion, and gene- 
 rally wearing a coloured striped cravat, a yellow 
 waistcoat, green riding coat, white cords and top- 
 boots. Tom Scampington was of a race nearly 
 extinct. They flourished about thirty years ago, 
 but have almost vanished with the advent of qua- 
 drilles and French cookery. He was one of those 
 who cared for nothing — his debts and the devil 
 not excepted ; who could drive anything, from a 
 four-in-hand to the barrow of a dog"'s meat man ; 
 who could chaunt any thing, from the hvffo of 
 Lablache to the *' take off" of a dustman ; who 
 could say anything but his prayers, and do 
 anything — even a lawyer ! He knew all the 
 points of a horse, and could doctor it into the 
 bargain ; he was a member of the funny club, 
 and the best shot at the Red House, and would 
 run a match with any man in the three king- 
 doms; he would play at anything, from '* put" 
 to '^ picquet,'' from "nine-pins'" to '^ roiige-et- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 2^1 
 
 noir;" would bet upon anything, and take either 
 side, and would laugh louder, and utter more 
 choice oaths, than any other man in England. 
 To relate all the accomplishments of Mr. Scamp- 
 ington would be an endless task : suffice it to 
 say that, by his side the Admirable Crichton 
 was one of the veriest impostors that ever made a 
 reputation at the expense of a credulous public. 
 There was likewise my Lord Viscount Vauxhall, 
 who was so far indebted to our laws of heirship 
 and succession, that without them he would 
 never have borne a title. His lordship held a 
 commission in a regiment of Lancers, wore small 
 black tips to his lips, had a mincing fashion of 
 speech, and whilst driving his cabriolet up and 
 down Regent-street, with his white-begloved 
 hands peeping over the board, looked like some 
 simpering miss playing the pianoforte. The 
 Honourable Colonel Leonard Hopetoun had 
 joined the select ; he was remarkable for nothing 
 beyond his huge black moustache, a good 
 humoured, though stolid set of features, and 
 
272 HOIIACE VEJINON. 
 
 driving four grays at the most economical rate 
 of any man about town ; the four grays being, 
 to use the horse- fanciers phrase, "screws ;" and 
 the entire set out, including the old green ba- 
 rouche, worth about one hundred and twenty 
 pounds. 
 
 Then there was Lord Vanely, a celebrated 
 wit and hon-vivant about town ; and a friend of 
 his, a Mr. Clively, one of that class which pays 
 handsomely for introduction into life, and al- 
 ways have fathers who will do no more for them, 
 and who are totally incapable of doing anything 
 more for themselves. Finally, as a support to 
 the mistress of the mansion, was little Mrs. Hil- 
 lary, with a turban which seemed to have been 
 born with her, for no one ever remembered to 
 have seen her without it. She was a lady always 
 to be found in such companionship as that of Mrs. 
 Maxwell, who in fact on such occasions as the 
 present, could scarcely do without such a person 
 as Mrs. Hillary — one of those persons whose ha- 
 bitation no one knows, whose means of existence 
 
HORACE VERNON. 2^3 
 
 no one cares to enquire into, and whose husband, 
 if she had any, no human being had ever been 
 known to mention, or even to think of. Mr. 
 Vernon, the rich banker, was expected by Mrs. 
 Maxwell, but had not yet arrived. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell had the good fortune, or rather 
 the talent, to unite under her roof, men of the 
 most opposite opinions, who in the political 
 arena, encountered each other with almost gla- 
 diatorial ferocity, but who, in the quiet seclu- 
 sion of Englefield Green, seemed by common 
 consent to eschew the trammels of party. Under 
 the prudent auspices of Mrs. Maxwell, they 
 were able to indulge in their refined satur- 
 nalia ; sacrificing for awhile, party hostility to 
 private enjoyment, and feeling safe from the 
 snarling of a meddling world, which seems al- 
 ways to expect its rulers to be either saints or 
 sages. 
 
 The apartments were en-suite, and sufficiently 
 spacious for a much larger assemblage than 
 were met together on the present occasion. They 
 N 3 
 
274 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 were brilliantly lighted, and the furniture, as 
 we have before said, was everything that the 
 most fastidious taste could desire. At the upper 
 extremity of the principal room, on a large sofa 
 lined with large down pillars, was seated the 
 mistress of the mansion. She was dressed in 
 black velvet, which admirably became her well- 
 rounded and matron-like person ; her face for 
 this evening, was wreathed with smiles, — for 
 nothing had happened to arouse her natural 
 irritability ; all had gone well ; her distin- 
 guished guests were around her, and unlike 
 other entertainers, she could calculate the cost of 
 entertaining them, as so much to her own indi- 
 vidual advantage. Beside her, on the sofa, 
 for form sake, was little Mrs. Hillary, whose 
 insignificant appearance offered some contrast to 
 the en-hon-poiiit of her friend, or rather pa- 
 troness ; and on her right was Lord Walgrave, 
 apparently very much at his ease, and talking 
 to her and Colonel Leonard Hopetown, who 
 occupied an ottoman close by. The Marquis of 
 
HORACE VERNON. 275 
 
 Marigold was standing under a lamp, and read- 
 ing his speech at a late county meeting, as re- 
 ported in the " Bucks Gazette ;" for nothing 
 could check his indomitable passion for speechi- 
 fying on " agricultural distress ;" whilst his 
 respected parent the duke was dozing in the 
 corner. Near the entrance were grouped, Lord 
 Vanely, Mr. Scampington, Lord Vauxhall, and 
 Mr. Clively, discussing topics which neither 
 smacked of politics nor literature. 
 
 " Did you hear the joke about Hopetown 'C 
 enquired Scampington of Lord Vanely. 
 
 " I never heard of any joke coupled with 
 Hopetown in my life, unless against him,'"' an- 
 swered the peer drily. 
 
 '*' Now, Vanely, you are always so d — d 
 sharp upon people, you are upon my soul,**' 
 lisped Lord Vauxhall ; " I have heard him say 
 some remarkably good things." 
 
 " I should as soon expect to hear Hopetown 
 say a good thing as you to do one ; but what is 
 this joke ?"" 
 
276 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Why, you know his team,"" said Scamping- 
 ton. 
 
 '' Three roarers and a blind one !"" 
 
 " Exactly : — Well, driving down Regent- 
 street the other day, rather faster than was pru- 
 dent with horses which ought to have been in 
 the infirmary, just as his leaders came abreast 
 of old Lady SwanwelFs carriage, she almost 
 screamed with affright at the noise, and seizing 
 the arm of her companion, cried out, 'It is a 
 shame that the police allow these nasty steam- 
 engines to come into crowded streets, frightening 
 the horses — we shall certainly have some acci- 
 dent.'. It was Hopetown's leaders I"' A general 
 laugh followed this anecdote. 
 
 " But Vauxhall, somebody told me you were 
 going to join the Carlists in Spain,*" said 
 Vanely : " Is it true ?" 
 
 " Why, I have some idea of it,' returned 
 the other, " I like the cause, and I think some 
 example should be set, as a matter of principle." 
 
 *' Ah! then it is as I said," rejoined Vanely, 
 
HORACE VERNON. 277 
 
 " I said no man was more likely to volunteer in 
 such a cause than yourself." 
 
 " Did you ? well Fm much obliged to you 
 for the compliment, upon my soul I am," said 
 Vauxhall, " for you seldom say so civil a thing." 
 
 " Why, I could not help saying as much," 
 observed Vanely, " for I know that few men 
 have greater need of the Spanish."" 
 
 " You are too bad, upon my soul you are," 
 said Vauxhall, colouring slightly on observing 
 the others repressing their mirth at the sally, 
 " but you are always drawing upon somebody 
 for your amusement." 
 
 " And I dare swear you would excuse them, 
 if your tradesmen drew upon you from the same 
 fund," returned Avonlay ; " but joking aside, 
 you must be a lad of some pluck, to venture on 
 such an expedition, and I give you credit for 
 it." 
 
 " But have you calculated on the privations 
 you will necessarily undergo in such a warfare .'^" 
 asked Mr. Clively. 
 
278 HORACE VEllNON. 
 
 " Oh, he has been in service," interposed 
 Vanely ; " the fatigues of a campaign are no- 
 thing new to him ; his regiment marched from 
 Manchester to Hounslow in the most inclement 
 season. They said it rained almost the whole 
 way, and several officers fell sick with the 
 measles, from sheer hardships." 
 
 " What an extraordinary invention !" ex- 
 claimed Vauxhall, who took it seriously ; " we 
 suffered from nothing that I recollect, but the 
 execrable wine and the hard beds at inns on the 
 road ; but thank God, I am not particular ; any- 
 thing does for me.'"* 
 
 " So Walgrave says," returned Vanely ; 
 " that you are more easily contented on service 
 than any man he knows." 
 
 " Well, that is true — upon my soul it is." 
 
 " He says that you came to see him when he 
 was on duty at the Tower, and that though he 
 could only get you a sole, a broiled chicken, 
 and a bottle of claret for your dinner, you bore 
 it without a murmur.'" 
 
HORACE VERNON. 279 
 
 " Well, that is true enough ; a man has no 
 right to be particular on such occasions." 
 
 " And that you actually bivouacked for the 
 night on a sofa, with only your cloak and some 
 blankets to cover you, and a fire in the room. 
 Nobody can say after that, that you are a 
 feather-bed soldier." 
 
 Lord Yauxhall looked at him as if in doubt 
 whether he was bantering or not, but the ex- 
 treme gravity of Vanely reassured him. 
 
 " Well, and you will find that I can do it 
 again ;"" said Vauxhall decidedly ; " if a man 
 embraces the arduous duties of a military life, 
 he must be prepared for such rubs ; and as I 
 said before, thank God, I am not particular. 
 But what is the plan for the evening — does any 
 one know ?" 
 
 " I believe we are to have a rubber," said 
 Scampington ; "but they expect somebody else 
 to make up a set."" 
 
 " Oh, ah, I know," said Vanely, *' they are 
 looking for Vernon the banker. I wonder he 
 
280 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 is not come, for he is as fond of a rubber as any 
 man in the kingdom." 
 
 At this moment the servant announced Mr. 
 Vernon, who was warmly received by Mrs. 
 Maxwell, and by her introduced to Lord Wal- 
 grave and the other gentlemen. Lord V^anely 
 he appeared to know slightly, and Mr. Robinson 
 intimately ; the latter greeted him with all the 
 respect which he usually paid to rank or wealth. 
 
 Mr. Vernon appeared to be about six and 
 thirty years of age, about the middle size, and 
 rather stout. His countenance was prepossessing ; 
 there was an air of frankness and good humour 
 about it; but the uncertainty and wavering of his 
 very light grey eye, bespoke irritability and in- 
 decision. His complexion was what is usually 
 called sanguine, his teeth were very even and 
 white, and his hair was light and curling, 
 though scanty. An almost imperceptible shade 
 of heightened colour came over his countenance 
 on seeing Walgrave seated in so very familiar 
 a manner beside Mrs. Maxwell; but the feeling 
 
HORACE VERNON. 281 
 
 whatever it might have been, was instantly 
 checked. Mrs. Hillary rising under the pre- 
 tence of conversing with Mr. Robinson, Mrs. 
 Maxwell beckoned the banker into her vacant 
 place. 
 
 " I was wondering what had made you so 
 late,'' said Mrs. Maxwell to Vernon ; " we have 
 been waiting to make up a rubber ; for Scamp- 
 ington and some of them want hazard, and Lord 
 Walgrave never plays it." 
 
 " I shall be glad to make one,'* said the 
 banker ; ' ' for I am not fond of hazard, my- 
 self." 
 
 *'Then we can manage very well," observed 
 the mistress of the house, " for Mr. Clively and 
 Mr. Robinson are both whist players. I shall 
 engage the duke in a game of picquet, and the 
 rest can manage for themselves." Upon this 
 intimation, the parties were soon formed, and on 
 cutting for partners. Lord Walgrave and Mr. 
 Robinson were opposed to the banker and Mr. 
 Clively, at short whist and five pound points. 
 
282 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 The duke was soon dozing over a game at 
 picquet with Mrs. Maxwell, and the dice were 
 heard rattling in a distant room. Lord Vanely 
 and the Marquis of Marigold were lounging 
 upon a sofa, in the neighbourhood of the whist 
 players ; the marquis had pocketed the Bucks 
 Gazette, and was discussing with Vanely, 
 various points of play, in the mysteries of 
 which, though politician and patriot, he seemed 
 by no means deficient. 
 
 Play had now proceeded a considerable time, 
 and refreshments were handed about in profu- 
 sion. Vernon's face was flushed, and his hand 
 slightly trembled, as he dealt the cards ; he had 
 already lost to a considerable amount with Wal- 
 grave, by heavy betting. As the wine came 
 round, he drank larger draughts of Champagne, 
 which, instead of allaying his excitement, only 
 tended to increase it. 
 
 " Yonder Mr. What- d'ye -call-him, opposite, 
 plays more like a madman than a man of busi- 
 ness,'* said the marquis in an under tone; " such 
 
HORACE VERNON. 
 
 283 
 
 a fellow as Walgrave would ruin him, if be 
 had the Bank of England to draw upon." 
 
 " Yes ; he is in very good hands" coolly ob- 
 served Vanely, " do you observe, what ex- 
 traordinary goad fortune Walgrave has to- 
 night ?'' 
 
 " Vanely, ten pounds upon the odd card this 
 hand," said Walgrave. 
 
 " Done !" said Vanely, " and I am done,' 
 he added in an under tone. 
 
 " He is devilish lucky," said the marquis. 
 
 " I'll bet the odds that he turns up an ho- 
 nour this deal," said Vanely. 
 
 " Done ! in fives or tens ?" 
 
 " Tens, if you like." 
 
 '-' Done !" 
 
 The card was turned up. 
 
 " An ace by G — d," said the marquis ; " why 
 he has done nothing but cut aces and kings all 
 the evening." ^ 
 
 "Yes ; he is a remarkably fortunate player," 
 said Vanely, a smile of sarcasm, unobserved by 
 
284 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 his companion, rising on his lip : — " Til make 
 it a standing bet, if you like, for the evening." 
 
 " No, no, thank you,"' replied the other 
 shaking his head ; " I don't like betting against 
 luck ; I like to back the winning colour. But 
 Vanely, how is it that Walgrave, whenever 
 he deals, is always seized with a fit of coughing ? 
 There he is again, almost black in the face, and 
 his bands under the table." 
 
 "Does our bet stand ?'"' said Vanely care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " No, no, thankye ; he has it again, by Jove! 
 the king of hearts. It is very singular." 
 
 " Very !'' 
 
 " And he plays up to his partner's hand, as 
 though he knew where every honour was placed." 
 
 " Superior tact." 
 
 " Egad ! I hardly know what to make of it ; 
 the devil must be at his elbow." 
 
 " IVe thought so for some time,"" muttered 
 Vanely. 
 
 " My dear sir, shall we change places, or cut 
 
HORACE VERNON. 285 
 
 in for fresh partners ?"" asked Robinson of the 
 banker, in the most conciliating tone ; " luck 
 seems to have set against you." 
 
 '' No, no, we will remain as we are," returned 
 Vernon abruptly, who, in the true spirit of 
 gambling, seemed to hug his ill fortune. 
 
 *' I am concerned to see you such a loser," 
 remarked Lord Walgrave courteously ; "I 
 really think you had better adopt Mr. Robin- 
 son's advice." 
 
 " No, my lord, I thank you, fortune must 
 surely turn some time,'' said Vernon ; "we will 
 double our stake on this rubber." 
 
 " As you please," said Lord Walgrave. 
 
 By this time, the rumour of very high play 
 had brought some from the hazard table. The 
 duke had laid aside his hand at picquet, and 
 was watching the proceedings with some in- 
 terest, whilst Scampington and others were bet- 
 ting on the points and odd cards. 
 
 " Do you know anything of this Vernon .^^ 
 asked the marquis of Vanely. 
 
286 HOllACE VERNON. 
 
 " No ; I have met him once I believe, but 
 when, I forget. His name is down at Crock- 
 ford's ; that is all I know of him." 
 
 " But how came he here ? who introduced 
 
 him r 
 
 " I believe he is a friend of — " nodding 
 towards Mrs. Maxwell, who was standing at 
 the card table, leaning on the arm of the duke, 
 and listening to the interesting prattle of Lord 
 Vauxhall. 
 
 " Ah I but does Partington know any thing 
 of him .?" 
 
 ''Between you and me, I believe he neither 
 knows nor cares ; I think Partington is getting 
 rather tired of his bargain." 
 
 " Likely enough ; he has spent a little fortune 
 in the place." 
 
 " Which he would be glad to let the banker 
 have at a considerable discount, or I am much 
 mistaken."" 
 
 " Walgrave is nicking the banker nicely to- 
 night, by G — d,*" said Scampington in a half 
 
HORACE VERNON. 287 
 
 whisper to Vanely, whom he had just ap- 
 proached. 
 
 "He has got him on the nail,'^ returned 
 Vanely, in a tone of peculiar intelligence. 
 
 The Honourable Mr. Scampington hinted 
 that he understood the allusion, by a knowing 
 wink. 
 
 The game had now assumed an exciting de- 
 gree of interest. Both parties were at nine, 
 and it was to decide the rubber, on which was 
 staked between the banker and Walgrave nearly 
 a thousand pounds. It was the nobleman's 
 deal, and, with the cards in his hand, he was 
 again seized with such a violent fit of coughing 
 as to oblige him to bend over the table and 
 drop his hands. 
 
 *' Marigold, won't you bet again on the turn- 
 up card ?" said Vanely, in a whisper. 
 
 " Not a maravedi !*" 
 
 Vanely laughed, and turned to Scamping- 
 ton, making him the same offer he had before 
 made to the marquis. The Honourable Mr. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 
 
 Scampington most facetiously thrust his tongue 
 into his cheek by way of reply. 
 
 " My lord !" said Vernon to Walgrave, in 
 a state of great excitement, which he did not 
 appear able to control, " as we play heavy 
 stakes, I will thank you not to remove the 
 cards from the table." 
 
 " Sir, your remark is offensive,'"* said Lord 
 Walgrave, with cold hauteur, whose cough 
 seemed checked on the instant. 
 
 " I do not intend it so,'' returned Vernon, 
 with as much indifference as his temper would 
 allow him ; " but I always like to see the cards 
 before me." 
 
 " We will speak further on this matter, sir, 
 when this game is decided," said Lord Wal- 
 grave, dealing the cards round, and turning up 
 the ace of spades ! The marquis looked at 
 Vanely, and the Honourable Tom touched 
 him on the ribs with the point of his fore- 
 finger. 
 
 The play continued to excite the most intense 
 
HORACE VERNON. 289 
 
 interest : not a word was breathed during its 
 progress. The game proceeded equally — each 
 had five tricks. Drops of perspiration stood 
 on Vernon's forehead, and the muscles of his 
 face worked convulsively. Wal grave was 
 rather paler than usual, but his manner was 
 quite composed ; not the slightest emotion 
 could be detected in his stoic-like features. 
 
 " The man must surely be either drunk or 
 mad," whispered the marquis to Vanely, and 
 looking towards Vernon. 
 
 "He is neither the one nor the other," re- 
 plied Vanely, indifferently ; " he is only 
 ruined.*" 
 
 " Not with this night's work, surely ?" 
 
 " This crowns it." 
 
 The parties at the game had now gained six 
 tricks each ; another only remained to be 
 played, which, like the seventh charmed bullet, 
 must be fatal to one. Vernon played the eight 
 of diamonds. 
 
 " You have lost it, sir," said Walgrave, 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
290 HOE. ACE VERNON. 
 
 playing the deuce of hearts ; " my partner 
 must have a better diamond." 
 
 *' You mistake, my lord,"" said Clively, play- 
 ing the nine, " it is our's." Mr. Robinson 
 played the knave of clubs. 
 
 " Bravo !" shouted the banker ; " thank 
 you, Mr. Clively : a glass of champagne !" one 
 was immediately foaming at his elbow. 
 
 " Do not be too hasty, gentlemen," said Lord 
 Walgrave, calmly ; '* I believe Mr. Clively 
 refused diamonds when he trumped my king ; 
 you will find it in the third trick." It was 
 displayed in an instant, and found to be so. 
 
 Vernon had raised the glass to his lips, but 
 the wine remained untouched. His face, hither- 
 to painfully flushed, became ashy pale, and, 
 with a desperate and reckless feeling engendered 
 by mental agony, he dashed the glass and its 
 contents on the floor, and then, as if careless 
 as to the place, the company around him, and 
 of consequences altogether, he started upon his 
 feet. 
 
HORACE VEimON. 291 
 
 " By G — d !" he cried, looking wildly around 
 him, " by G — d I am in a knot of sharpers !" 
 The sound of every voice seemed hushed as by 
 a spell, the moment the words were uttered. 
 Such a charge, and so conveyed, appeared so 
 monstrous as scarcely to be comprehended. 
 No one seemed inclined to take it to himself by 
 replying. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Vernon," said Mr. Robin- 
 son, after a short pause of astonishment, but in 
 a voice as soft as a lute, " surely you are acting 
 under some strange misapprehension. You 
 cannot fancy that I could possibly be an inten- 
 tional party to your losses .?'** 
 
 " No, no, Robinson ; I believe you my 
 friend," said Vernon, hurriedly, and taking 
 Robinson's arm for support ; " but — " 
 
 " Then, sir, I presume I am to take your 
 remark to myself,"" interposed Lord Walgrave, 
 rising. 
 
 "Take it as you please, sir," said Vernon, 
 fiercely. 
 
 o 2 
 
292 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 " Come, come," said Robinson, gently with- 
 drawing the banker to another part of the room, 
 and casting a significant glance towards his 
 lordship ; — " pray, sir, calm yourself." 
 
 " My God, Vernon, you will certainly ruin 
 me!" exclaimed Mrs. Maxwell, who hastily 
 approached, and in whose countenance anger 
 seemed to struggle with fear. " Say something 
 to Lord Walgrave, as an apology : do, Mr. 
 Robinson, make him say something." 
 
 " I shall make no apology. I have said the 
 truth — I am convinced of it." 
 
 *' Good Heavens ! what shall I do ? he is 
 mad ! he is certainly mad !" cried Mrs. Max- 
 well, lifting up her hands as if bewildered. At 
 this moment a servant entered, and presented 
 Vernon with a letter, which he mechanically 
 took, and then crushed together in his hand. 
 ^' Pray, Mr. Robinson, persuade him to do 
 something, or we shall have murder," conti- 
 nued Mrs. Maxwell, " Lord Walgrave will 
 never look over such an insult ! O do, Ver- 
 
HORACE VERNON. 293 
 
 non, do, for my sake !" and she placed her hand 
 gently on his shoulder, which he shook off 
 with every mark of violent agitation and 
 anger. 
 
 '"' Had you not better see what that note con- 
 tains.?'"* said Mr. Robinson, disengaging the 
 letter from his hand, and looking at the super- 
 scription ; " it is from your sister." Vernon 
 seemed to be recalled to himself at the word, 
 and, with a trembling hand, tore it open ; but, 
 as he cast a hurried glance over the contents, 
 he let it fall upon the floor, and clasped his 
 forehead with both hands. 
 
 " Good God !" he exclaimed ; " my poor 
 mother ! read it — read it." 
 
 Robinson read the note. " You had better 
 lose no time,"' he said ; "go at once." Vernon 
 rose to go, and the solicitor whispered to Mrs. 
 Maxwell — '' Make the best you can of it ; say 
 he is drunk ! mad ! anything ! I will see him 
 safely out of the house, or, perhaps, home." 
 
 " For God's sake return." she said nervously. 
 
294 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 *^' and quickly ; I do not know what I shall 
 do. — O my God ! that this should have hap- 
 pened !" 
 
 Robinson took Vernon's arm as he reached 
 the door, and they left the room together. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 29$ 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " I feel death rising higher still and higher 
 Within my bosom ; every breath I fetch 
 Shuts up my life within a shorter compass; 
 And like the vanishing sound of bells, grows less 
 And less each pulse, till it be lost in air." 
 
 It was in a state of feeling little to be envied 
 that Vernon, followed by the obsequious Mr. 
 Robinson, hastened from the house of Mrs. 
 Maxwell towards his own home. The wine 
 he had drunk, the misunderstanding between 
 Lord Walgrave and himself, which he now 
 began half to suspect was the effect of it, and 
 the sudden, although not altogether unexpected 
 tidings by which the quarrel had been inter- 
 rupted, tended to accelerate his steps, and, at 
 the same time, to increase the anxiety and re- 
 luctance with which he was about to meet a 
 
296 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 trial which had been long foreseen, and yet 
 for which he was altogether unprepared. 
 
 " You will stay with me, to-night, Robin- 
 son,'' said he, as having entered the hall, he 
 turned towards his companion. 
 
 " Why, my dear Mr. Vernon," replied the 
 solicitor, wiping his forehead, " I am, as you 
 may well believe, always anxious to be of ser- 
 vice to my friends ; but, I fear, Mrs. Maxwell 
 will expect me ; I promised — " 
 
 " That can easily be arranged," said Ver- 
 non ; " my servant shall be sent with an 
 apology. You must yield to me to-night ; I 
 may want you — on business — professional busi- 
 ness, Robinson." 
 
 " In that case," said the other, " what is to 
 be said ? always at your disposal, Mr. Vernon," 
 and he followed his patron into the parlour. 
 
 "My dear brother, I am so glad you are 
 come at last," said a young lady, as she hast- 
 ened forward, and threw herself, weeping, into 
 the arms of Vernon ; " my poor mother !" 
 
HORACE VERNON. 297 
 
 " Compose yourself — all may yet be well," 
 said Vernon, pressing her cheek tenderly with 
 his lips : — " where is Mary ?" 
 
 « She is—" 
 
 " I should have remembered," resumed Ver- 
 non, hurriedly ; " but, Charlotte, you do not 
 see Mr. Robinson, who has been kind enough 
 to accompany me home.'"* 
 
 " And you have not seen '^— and, with a hasty 
 obeisance to the solicitor, the eyes of the young 
 lady glanced towards a gentleman seated at the 
 further extremity of the room — " you have not 
 seen Captain Laurence."" 
 
 *' Ha ! Laurence," said the banker, ap- 
 proaching him, and grasping his hand warmly, 
 " I am glad to see you. You are come at a 
 melancholy time.'" 
 
 " I heard of Mrs. Vernon's dangerous ill- 
 ness,"" replied Laurence, " and hastened hither, 
 hoping to find her better than, I fear — '' 
 
 " It was kind of you,"' interrupted the other. 
 " You must stay here to-night. You know 
 o 3 
 
298 HOB-ACE VERNON. 
 
 my friend Robinson ? Robinson, you have met 
 Captain Laurence before ?" 
 
 A cold and somewhat formal inclination of 
 the head on the part of the captain, and a very 
 elaborate bending of the body on the part of 
 the solicitor, indicated the mutual recognition. 
 
 ''But why are we all standing ?" said Ver- 
 non, as if suddenly recollecting himself ; " let 
 us be seated," and waving his hand to the 
 others, he flung himself into a chair, and, with 
 compressed lipS; and brows painfully knit to- 
 gether, he appeared to be endeavouring to 
 check some strong inward emotion, which he 
 feared might vent itself in words, or be detected 
 on his pale and haggard countenance. 
 
 During the pause that ensued, Mr. Robin- 
 son had full leisure to remark, through his 
 green spectacles, the vast improvement that 
 had taken place in the person of Miss Charlotte 
 Vernon, since he had. last done himself the 
 curiosity of critically examining her preten- 
 sions. She might be, in the opinion of Mr. 
 
HORACE VERNON. 299 
 
 Robinson, about two and twenty years of age 
 at that present writing. Her face had lost 
 some of its former roundness, and was now of 
 that oval shape so indispensable to beauty : it 
 was, perhaps, a leetle too pale and pensive for 
 the solicitor's taste ; but present circumstances 
 might easily account for that. But then her 
 form had attained its full and perfect develop- 
 ment; and, in a word, Mr. Robinson thought — 
 and thought justly — it would be difficult to fix 
 his spectacles upon a more charming creature. 
 Such azure eyes ! such clustering and auburn 
 locks ! such even and pearly teeth ! Mr. Robin- 
 son felt it necessary to put a curb upon his wan- 
 dering imagination and too susceptible nature. 
 
 As a relief from the pleasing pain caused by 
 these furtive glancings, the solicitor directed his 
 glasses and attention towards the noble form 
 and handsome countenance of Captain Lau- 
 rence. Is it wonderful that a combination of 
 two simple ideas should have revealed to him 
 a mystery ? Mr. Robinson, apart from his pro- 
 fessional avocations, and all the straightforward, 
 
300 HOEACE VERNON. 
 
 slanting, curved, circular, and zig-zag contri- 
 vances incident thereto, was a man of senti- 
 ment ; that is to say, he had not perused so 
 many novels, to so little purpose, as not to be 
 aware that when a young and handsome couple 
 were brought into juxta-position, they are apt 
 to come together; nor was he so Mephisto- 
 phelian a person as not to wish that they should 
 do so. I will not undertake to say that a very 
 tolerable chance of being employed in making 
 out handsome marriage settlements, and thence- 
 forward attaining the legal advisership of the 
 captain, had not something to do with the com- 
 placency with which he regarded the lovers. 
 
 The pleasing reverie of the solicitor was ab- 
 ruptly dissipated by a sudden movement on the 
 part of Mr. Vernon. 
 
 '*■ Be so kind, Mr. Robinson, as to hand me 
 the decanter and a wine-glass," said the banker, 
 drawing to the table; *' they are on the side- 
 board behind you. My throat is dry and 
 parched.'' 
 
HORACE VERNON. 301 
 
 " Might I prevail upon you, my dear sir," 
 said Mr. Robinson, seductively, as he placed 
 the wine on the table, " not to indulge too 
 much to-night ? Remember, we have already — " 
 
 " Pshaw !" said Vernon, taking the decanter, 
 and pouring out a glass of wine, which he 
 swallowed hastily, replenishing his glass at the 
 same moment. 
 
 Mr. Robinson foresaw that another awkward 
 pause was about to ensue, and began to apply 
 his mind to a consideration of the topics most 
 likely to interest the company present. 
 
 " May I hope," said he, " that Mrs. Vernon 
 is not so very unwell as, from the message of 
 your servant, we were led to fear ?''"' 
 
 " Mrs. Vernon, sir," said the captain, ob- 
 serving that neither the banker nor his sister 
 appeared disposed to answer the question, 
 " Mrs. Vernon, it is to be apprehended, is in 
 a very dangerous state ; but — " 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and a lady 
 of dignified presence, and almost majestic 
 
302 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 person, entered the room. With a slight, and 
 perhaps haughty bow of recognition addressed 
 to the solicitor, she advanced calmly towards 
 the banker. 
 
 " Horace," she said, in a low tone, " I wish 
 to speak with you apart for a moment.^"* 
 
 Vernon followed her in silence to the window. 
 
 " It was very wrong of you," said his elder 
 sister, in a voice ot mournful rebuke, " to have 
 left us to-night. Your mother has felt it — 
 felt it deeply, Horace ; and the time is at hand 
 when the reparation of sorrow will be useless 
 and unavailing."" 
 
 '' I know I have been wrong — I feel it now ; 
 I do, by Heaven !" cried Vernon, passionately. 
 " But, my dear sister," and he took her hand, 
 " our mother is better ; she will yet recover. 
 Dr. Ellison is with her, is he not ? what does 
 he say ?" 
 
 Miss Vernon shook her head. '' We must 
 not deceive ourselves," she said quietly ; '* my 
 mother is dying. We have known it long. 
 
HORACE VEUXON. 303 
 
 This is no sudden blow, and it is now time 
 that we should meet it with becoming re- 
 signation." 
 
 " I cannot — cannot, Mary," said her brother, 
 covering his face with his hands. " Oh ! it is 
 too late now to think of retracing my steps. I 
 have already advanced too far in a course which 
 — but — " and he paused for a moment, and 
 having looked round cautiously, continued in a 
 lower tone, *' my solemn assurance that the 
 life to which I have too long abandoned my- 
 self shall be renounced — this might comfort 
 her— might it not ? It might relieve her mind — 
 it might, perhaps, preserve her." 
 
 '•' Compose yourself," said Miss Vernon, 
 pressing his hand affectionately ; "for my sake, 
 for your own, and for her's ;" and she directed 
 her eyes towards the other end of the room, 
 where her sister sat weeping bitterly. 
 
 Vernon observed the look, and appeared im- 
 pressed by it. " I will strive to do so," he 
 said, with more calmness. " Yes, for your 
 
304 HORACE VERNOX. 
 
 sake, and for her's, I must bear this : it would 
 kill her — no, no, I must not do that.'''* 
 
 " Come, let me lead you to her now ; she has 
 been anxious to see you,"*** said his sister ; " col- 
 lect your spirits. You will but distract the 
 dying moments of your mother by a betrayal 
 of weakness, which, upon such occasions, is 
 sinful." 
 
 " True, true, you are right, as you ever have 
 been," said Vernon, as he followed her from 
 the room ; and, as he ascended the stairs, he 
 endeavoured to enforce upon himself that de- 
 gree of calmness which, he felt, he must at 
 least assume. 
 
 " Wait in the ante-room for a few minutes, 
 and I will prepare her for your coming," said 
 Miss Vernon, in a whisper, as she softly opened 
 a door, and entered her mother's apartment. 
 
 The death of those we love, and whose affec- 
 tion for us we have ill or insufficiently requited, 
 is one of those trials from which few, perhaps, 
 are spared. We are none of us exempt from the 
 
HORACE VERNON. 305 
 
 frailty of human nature, or from the conscious- 
 ness attending it, which is its only palliation ; 
 and, at a time like this, the conscience is prone 
 to magnify every slight into an injury, and 
 every act of weakness into a crime. 
 
 Vernon was a weak man, but vice had not 
 yet hardened his heart, and he had not hitherto 
 seen so much of affliction as to render himself 
 insensible to its approach. If he had ceased 
 " to justify his actions to himself," it was be- 
 cause he feared to undertake the office ; and he 
 could not but feel poignantly at this moment 
 that he had, upon too many occasions, neglected 
 the performance of obligations which, at his 
 father's death, he had held sacred. What 
 would he not now have given, could he have 
 averted his mother's death ! what reparation 
 would he not cheerfully make, were she spared 
 to be sensible of it ! But would he have made 
 the reparation which his heart dictated ? It 
 will be seen hereafter. 
 
 The opening of the door recalled him to 
 
306 HOKACE VERNON. 
 
 himself. It was Dr. Ellison. He approached 
 Vernon. 
 
 " You may see your mother now,""* said he ; 
 " but you must permit me to lay my injunctions 
 upon you, not to protract your interview longer 
 than is absolutely necessary, nor to advert to 
 any subject which may be likely to agitate her. 
 She is in too weak a state to bear any commu- 
 nication of a painful nature ; you must there- 
 fore defer — '''' 
 
 " Defer !" interrupted Vernon, rising sud- 
 denly ; " then we may yet indulge a hope, 
 doctor, that my mother is not dangerously 
 ill ?" 
 
 The doctor took the hands of Vernon be- 
 tween his own. " I must be plain with you. 
 No hope must be indulged, for it will deceive 
 you. Mrs. Vernon cannot recover. Her last 
 moments must not be occupied with matters 
 that have, most probably, been finally settled 
 before this. I have said enough. I remain 
 here to-night, and am now retiring to my own 
 
HORACE VEflNON. 307 
 
 room. The servants have received orders to 
 summon me, should I be required. Good 
 night." 
 
 It was with trembling steps and a palpitating 
 heart that Vernon entered the room of his 
 dying mother. She extended her hand towards 
 him, and received him with a faint smile. He 
 seated himself in a chair by the bedside. 
 
 There was a silence of some minutes. 
 
 " Mary, my love," said Mrs. Vernon, with 
 apparent difficulty, addressing her daughter, 
 *' You may retire for a short time. I have a 
 few words to say to your brother, which must 
 be spoken in private." 
 
 Miss Vernon retired softly from the room. 
 
 " I have wished to see you, my dear son," 
 said the dying lady. " I had much to say to 
 you, but my strength is fast leaving me, and it 
 is perhaps better that I am forbidden to speak 
 much. What I may omit to mention, will be 
 recalled to you, when I am gone, more strongly 
 than can be at this moment conceived." 
 
308 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 She paused, unable to proceed ; and Vernon 
 did not, and, indeed, had no power to reply. 
 He felt a presentiment, which conscience fre- 
 quently superinduces upon less important occa- 
 sions, that his mother was about to question 
 him upon a subject which he dreaded to enter 
 upon. Nor was he mistaken. 
 
 " My dear son," said Mrs. Vernon, at length, 
 " you must forgive me for adverting to a topic 
 which, of all others, is most painful to me to 
 refer to ; but I feel that I have delayed it too 
 long; and, at a time like this,'"* and she pressed 
 his hand gently, "you will pardon my anxiety, 
 and the abrupt manner in which I am compelled 
 to address you. Your sisters' fortune — " 
 
 Vernon motioned, as if about to speak ; but 
 not a syllable passed his half-opened lips, and 
 she proceeded — 
 
 " Your sisters' fortune, which they entrusted 
 to you two years ago, and about which I know 
 it is not their wish that I should speak — tell me 
 — tell me frankly, my dear Horace — a mother 
 
HORACE VEENON. 309 
 
 sees many things which one less interested would 
 fail to observe, and I have marked an alteration 
 of late in your appearance and manners. Have 
 you been unfortunate lately ? have you met 
 with losses in your business? is their fortune 
 secure ?" 
 
 " It is — it is, by Heaven ?" said Vernon, 
 solemnly, but in a broken voice ; " my dear 
 mother, could you suppose me capable of in- 
 juring—" 
 
 " No, no,*" said Mrs. Vernon, faintly, " I 
 know you better, Horace; but, with every 
 wish on your part to be just and generous 
 towards them, circumstances might have oc- 
 curred to prevent your being so." 
 
 " Your apprehensions are groundless," said 
 Vernon, hurriedly ; " nothing has occurred, 
 my dear mother, I assure you — solemnly assure 
 you ; their fortune is secure ; I have taken care 
 of that." 
 
 " I am satisfied," said Mrs. Vernon ; " your 
 solemn assurance was needless. I can believe 
 
310 HOllACE VEKNON. 
 
 you, Horace, without such a confirmation. I 
 could wish, however, for I have made no will, 
 that the sum of two thousand pounds should be 
 added to each of their fortunes out of my own 
 property. Will it be inconvenient to you that 
 I set apart that portion for them .^'' 
 
 Vernon sank upon his knees by the bedside, 
 and was silent for some moments. " My dear 
 madam," he said at length, and his eyes filled 
 with tears, " you have ever been too kind, too 
 liberal towards me, who have but ill repaid 
 your affection. It will be my duty, and my 
 happiness, to obey all your wishes." 
 
 "It is well, and I shall die happy now," said 
 Mrs. Vernon. " Horace, I have one other 
 point to impress upon you. Your elder sister 
 will, perhaps, require little of your attention. 
 Her fortune is sufficient to support her as a 
 lady, and I know her principles too well to 
 feel much anxiety respecting her future course 
 of life, so far as it is to be determined by her- 
 self. But, respecting Charlotte, I feel some 
 
HORACE VERNON. 311 
 
 anxiety — I should rather say interest. You 
 know the engagement subsisting between Cap- 
 tain Laurence and your sister. He is an ho- 
 nourable man, and entertains a sincere affection 
 for her. I wish, at an early period after my 
 death, that they should be married. Do you 
 approve my choice ?^^ 
 
 " Perfectly," said Vernon, more composedly ; 
 " and I am happy he is below, that he may hear 
 your consent from your own lips." 
 
 " I am glad of that, too, and I will see him 
 presently ;"" and the old lady sank back in a 
 state of apparent exhaustion. A shade of pain- 
 ful emotion, observed by Vernon, overspread 
 her brow, and dwelt there for a time, and when 
 she again raised her eyes, and directed them 
 towards her son, there was a melancholy ex- 
 pression in the face, which, many times during 
 her illness he had remarked, but which, at 
 this moment, he had not fortitude enough to 
 withstand. 
 
 " Compose yourself, my dear mother," said 
 
312 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 Vernon, softly, '' will you not try to get a little 
 sleep ? I will call my sister." 
 
 " Not yet — not yet. One word more, Ho- 
 race. I had hoped, before my death, to have 
 seen you, also, settled — I mean married." 
 
 Vernon started suddenly, and averted his 
 face. 
 
 " Nay, nay," continued his mother, " 1 did 
 not mean to awaken a remembrance which I had 
 thought time had subdued. Forgive me ; 
 there is one thing that still weighs upon my 
 heart. May I speak.?"" 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 She continued — " Who is this Mrs. Max- 
 well, at whose house you have been so frequent 
 a guest ? Horace, it is your mother who now 
 addresses you, and for the last time. Let me 
 implore you to break off a connexion — but it is 
 not that yet — let me implore you to break off 
 an intimacy with one whose acquaintance is no 
 honour to a respectable man. Or, has the world 
 slandered her ? Is she a virtuous woman ? 
 
HORACE VERNON. 313 
 
 If SO, for her sake you must relinquish her 
 society ; if otherwise, for your own." 
 
 " I will obey you,'' said Vernon, with emo- 
 tion : "yes, it is better that it should be so," 
 he repeated to himself. 
 
 " May I die, assured of that ?" said Mrs. 
 Vernon, anxiously. 
 
 " You must not talk of death," said Vernon, 
 kissing her forehead. " In all things, as 
 Heaven is my witness, and my judge, will I 
 fulfil your wishes. Endeavour to compose 
 yourself now ;" and he arose, and opening the 
 door softly, he recalled his sister, who, followed 
 by Charlotte and Captain Laurence, entered 
 the room. 
 
 " Robinson," said Vernon, as he advanced 
 towards that gentleman, who had remained in 
 the parlour below, " I believe you are my 
 friend ; I think, also, you are under some obli- 
 gations to me, and would go out of your way 
 to serve me." 
 
 " Really, my dear Mr. Vernon," said Robin- 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
314 HORACE VERNON. 
 
 son flurried, "I do not comprehend; — pray sit 
 down. What is the matter ? How can I be of 
 service to you ?" 
 
 *• I will tell you," said Vernon hastily, and 
 he closed the door, which he fastened ; " Ro- 
 binson, you may consider me a scoundrel, but T 
 am not — I am not, sir." 
 
 " My good sir—" 
 
 " Two years ago, I borrowed ten thousand 
 pounds of each of my sisters, for the purpose of 
 entering upon a speculation which may yet 
 prove successful. My mother is dying, Robin- 
 son — dying. She has been anxious to know 
 that this money is secure. — It is so, — and I have 
 said as much. It shall be so, Robinson, in a 
 few days, and you shall do that business for 
 me ; but — *" 
 
 " But what, my dear Mr. Vernon ?''^ said 
 Robinson, somewhat interested. 
 
 "In the meanwhile, I want that assurance 
 confirmed ; it will ease my heart of a load that 
 oppresses it." 
 
HORACE VERNON. 315 
 
 " But Mrs. Vernon surely does not suspect — '' 
 began Robinson. 
 
 " No, no, perhaps not," said Vernon musing; 
 "but still—. Well Robinson, you will say 
 that I have invested the money safely — that you 
 know it — that I have employed you to do it, 
 and that it is done." 
 
 "Surely,"' replied Robinson, •' I can have no 
 objection to say this, especially, my dear sir, as 
 you purpose doing it in a few days. If any 
 confirmation on my part be wanted, of course I 
 am at your service." 
 
 " Come, then," said Vernon starting up. 
 
 " Where ?'^ said Robinson in surprise. 
 
 " To my mother ; one word will suffice.'' 
 
 " Good God ! Mr. Vernon,"" exclaimed Ro- 
 binson, who, although a man of no more feeling 
 than he knew what to do with, and whose method 
 of doing with it was, to thrust it to the very 
 remotest possible corner of his bosom ; ^al- 
 though a man of no great feeling, Mr. Robin- 
 son was a man of rather weak nerves, and 
 p 2 
 
316 HORACE VERNON 
 
 entertained a decided objection to death -bed 
 scenes, more especially since the demise of the 
 Earl of Charleston. 
 
 " My dear sir," remonstrated the solicitor ; 
 " only reflect for a moment — it would not be 
 decent, it would not be proper to intrude at a 
 time like this.""* 
 
 " True, true," said Vernon, striking his fore- 
 head with his hand ; " it were horrible, too 
 horrible to repeat that lie — coolly — coolly : 
 no, no, you shall not go with me, Robinson, 
 you shall not go," he repeated with energy ; — 
 " but do not stir from the room." 
 
 There was a knocking at the door, Vernor 
 opened it. It was Dr. Ellison. 
 
 " Come directly," said he, " or you will be 
 too late ; your mother is dying." 
 
 Vernon hastened up stairs, and entered the 
 room ; Captain Laurence and his younger sister 
 were kneeling by the side of the bed, one hand 
 of his dying mother clasped in theirs. Miss 
 Vernon was seated on the bed by her mother's 
 
HORACE VERNON. 3\^ 
 
 side, smoothing the pillow, and softly raising 
 the head of the dying lady. " Horace," she 
 said, " kneel down and take the hand of your 
 mother ; she has blessed you — she has blessed 
 us all ; she will never speak more ;" — and as 
 Vernon fell upon his knees, and took the cold 
 and wasted hand of his parent, his sister turned, 
 and rising from the bed, said solemnly : " Our 
 mother is dead !" 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 P?vlNTED BY LEIGHTON AND MLRPHY, 
 
 Johnson's Court, Fleet Street. 
 
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