LI B R A R.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVLR.SITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 H7G 
 sev.2 
 
 J. 
 
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SAYINGS AND DOINGS, 
 
 OR 
 
 SKETCHES FROM LIFE. 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 Full of wise saws and modern instances. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBLKN 
 NEW BURLINGTON-STREET. 
 
 1825. 
 
<79 ^ 
 
 VV 
 
 ) v. \ 
 
 PttlUTEB BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET. 
 
.3 
 
 Co 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The success of the first series of Sayings 
 and Doings, having induced me to publish a 
 second, I avail myself of the opportunity thus 
 afforded me, of saying a word or two upon the 
 strange propensity in some persons to snatch at 
 every cap exposed to public view, and clap it 
 on their own heads as their exclusive property. 
 Nothing can be more silly than for men to at- 
 tract the attention of the world to their failings, 
 by identifying themselves with every imaginary 
 portrait of knave or fool, which may appear 
 in black and white before the public ; but there 
 is no remedy for such an epidemic. 
 
 I have no doubt that in printing the follow- 
 ing additional sheets, I shall furnish fresh ma- 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 terials for caps, and I have no desire to prevent 
 any gentleman from fitting on as many of them 
 as in his discretion he may think proper. But 
 in one instance, as to what is past, it is per- 
 haps necessary to say a word or two, somewhat 
 more seriously upon the subject. 
 
 An individual, who, a year or two since, was 
 much spoken of in fashionable society, has 
 thought proper, not only to put a cap upon his 
 head, out of my last Series, which was never 
 made for him, but to persevere in drawing 
 public attention to the nicety of the Jit ; after 
 having received the most unquestionable evi- 
 dence that he never entered my mind while I 
 was writing the story. 
 
 I do not here repeat the denial, for any pur- 
 pose whatever, but to dispel any doubt about 
 the sincerity of my first assertion. That there 
 may be certain points or incidents, perhaps situ- 
 ations, in the life of Mr. Burton Danvers, 
 which correspond with the history of the 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 gentleman in question, is not only possible 
 but probable. This is only the consequence 
 of drawing upon nature for materials. One 
 man differs so little from another in reasoning 
 and conduct, under similar circumstances, that 
 it is scarcely possible to exclude the individual 
 from all resemblance to the genus described. 
 
 That this is most true, it is clear ; for I am 
 told, that I have been suspected by some, of 
 intending Burton Danvers for a totally dif- 
 ferent person; a man of rank and high birth, 
 whose friends good-naturedly appropriated the 
 same cap to his use; but I believe he had too 
 much good sense, either to put it on, or hand 
 it round to his acquaintance, to decide whe- 
 ther it would suit him or not. 
 
 At all events, I really do think that the 
 character of Mr. Burton Danvers, faulty as 
 he may be, would suffer as much by a com- 
 parison with many of those who affect to dis- 
 like the resemblance, as they possibly could, by 
 
Vl PREFACE. 
 
 being identified with Mm. Burton Danvers 
 is no monster of virtue — indeed black swans, 
 though no longer rare in ornithology, are yet a 
 desideratum in the human race ; but whether it 
 be with his virtues or his foibles, that the gen- 
 tleman in question has quarrelled, there is no 
 reason why he may not sit down in peace 
 amongst the crowd, each of whom might with 
 equal justice exclaim, 
 
 <f that was levelled at me." 
 
 I merely described one of those nouveaux riches 
 (whose heads are turned, like those of aero- 
 nauts by sudden exaltation,) characterized by 
 some of the errors and extravagances perfectly 
 natural to such a situation, and which inevitably 
 lead the very best of them astray ; and I cannot 
 but think that the moral, which is evident to 
 every body capable of drawing an inference 
 from facts, might be appropriated and adopted 
 with infinitely more benefit by such persons, 
 than any thing likely to be derived from the 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 vanity of supposing themselves to be subjects 
 either of public curiosity or critical animad- 
 version. 
 
 I leave the following stories to speak for them_ 
 selves ; and, however careless I may be of the 
 past, I am most anxious it should be clearly and 
 distinctly understood, that although I sketch 
 from nature, I am no portrait painter; — and 
 that no resemblance is intended in the follow- 
 ing Sketches to any living individuals. If I 
 had the intention, I would take special care 
 that the likenesses should be sufficiently striking 
 to admit of no doubt. 
 
 Since the world, however, is so matter-of-fact, 
 I feel that I ought to say one word in explana- 
 tion of a coincidence which occurs in one of the 
 tales now published. I have used a name in it, 
 which, I have just learned, is actually borne by 
 a most respectable family, inhabiting the iden- 
 tical village in which my imaginary characters 
 are supposed to reside.— I think I need not dis- 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 claim any intentional attack in this case; but, 
 lest I should unwittingly give a moment's un- 
 easiness to individuals wholly unknown to me, 
 I think it " safest and best" to explain the cir- 
 cumstance here. 
 
 London, Jan. 19, 1825. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 VOL. I. page 281. 1.7. for double entendre read double entente. 
 
 — 320. 1. 4. — papilliotes — papillotes. 
 
 VOL. II. — 22. 1.5. — a heiress — an heiress. 
 
 — 23. 1.11. — • continuance — a continuance. 
 
 — 33. I. 18. — extraordinary — extraordinarily. 
 
 — 87. 1. 6. — will — will not. 
 
 VOL. III. — 23. 1. 16. — no — - nor. 
 
 — 34. I. 14. — shortenig — shortening. 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS 
 
 The Sutherlands were people of some con- 
 sequence in one of the midland counties — I am 
 now speaking of three or four years since; 
 and the family at Ringsworth House (where 
 they resided at the time this narrative com- 
 mences) consisted of old Mrs. Sutherland, her 
 daughter Jane, and her sons George and James. 
 
 George had then recently succeeded to the 
 valuable estates of his most respectable father, 
 who quietly reposed in Ringsworth Church, 
 beneath the very pew in which he had hebdomi- 
 nally slumbered during many years of his ex- 
 emplary life ; and James, who was originally in- 
 tended for the law, but had latterly thought of 
 taking orders, resided with his mother and sister 
 at his brother's place. 
 
 They were, I believe, a happy, although not 
 contented family; that is to say, they were 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 happy amongst themselves. The old lady was 
 an excellent mother, Jane an exemplary daughter 
 and affectionate sister, and George and James 
 were both rigidly scrupulous in the fulfilment of 
 every filial and fraternal duty ; but they were 
 nevertheless dissatisfied in different degrees, and 
 for different reasons, with the world. 
 
 In the first place, Jane was plain ; and per- 
 haps, owing to that very circumstance, not the 
 best-tempered person imaginable ; some said she 
 had been crossed in love, and sure it is that in 
 her manner she was cold even to freezing : but 
 whether this frigidity was the result of past dis- 
 appointment, or simply constitutional, I never 
 became sufficiently intimate with her, during a 
 twelve years acquaintance, precisely to ascer- 
 tain. 
 
 George, who had inherited the very fine pro- 
 perty of his father, was exactly the reverse of 
 Jane in temperament ; he was the most suscep- 
 tible creature upon earth, overflowing with en- 
 thusiasm about beauty, and all the witching 
 attributes of women, in expressing his admiration 
 of which, he was much too free and liberal to 
 please his icy sister, who affected to despise per- 
 sonal attractions, and descanted continuously 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 3 
 
 upon intellectual excellence and the beauties of 
 the mind. 
 
 Mrs. Sutherland, from her intimate know- 
 ledge of her son's character and constitution, 
 frequently expressed her apprehensions that 
 George would, upon some occasion, too suddenly 
 surrender his heart in exchange for a fair hand, 
 and only hoped and trusted that his extreme 
 impetuosity might not involve him in any 
 serious calamity ; which apprehension on her 
 part, tender and maternal as it was, was con- 
 strued by her second son James into a dread of 
 innovation, and a fear that his brother should 
 introduce a young Mrs. Sutherland to super- 
 sede the existing head of the establishment. 
 This was James's opinion of his mother's genu- 
 ine anxiety for her volatile son ; but James was 
 a calculating, narrow-minded person, prone to 
 attribute the worst motives to the best actions. 
 He was dissimilar in every point of character to 
 George, who had neither guile nor concealment 
 in his composition, and never feared or sus- 
 pected either in any body else ; he was always 
 gay, always happy, liberal to profusion, and 
 generous to excess. 
 
 James, whose small income, to be sure, justi- 
 b2 
 
4 THE SUTHERLASDS. 
 
 fied his economy, was frugal even to parsimony ; 
 and having been taught when a child by his 
 nurse, that sixpence per day amounts to nine 
 pounds and half-a-crown per annum, never 
 allowed the calculation to escape his memory, 
 but, on the contrary, appeared constantly en- 
 deavouring to illustrate its excellence by his 
 conduct. 
 
 While George was roaming and roving about 
 the country, the envy and delight of all the 
 blooming damsels in his vicinity, James had 
 coolly and deliberately made a " dead set" at a 
 " fortune ;" his pursuit could not even be called 
 " fortune-hwiting" it was regular slaughter — 
 killing the game sitting, without either glory or 
 sport. Many were the times when honest, 
 open-hearted George, rallied his wary brother 
 on the steady-going devotion which he paid 
 to Miss Grace Lazenby, a young lady domesti- 
 cated in their neighbourhood with an elderly 
 gentlewoman of the name of Trainer, who pro- 
 fessed to take two or three pupils upon the most 
 liberal scale of accommodation, and the most 
 extravagant terms. 
 
 With this elderly gentlewoman Mr. James 
 Sutherland happened to be a favourite, and 
 at he?' house many of his evenings were passed 
 
THE SUTHEKLANDS. 5 
 
 during those seasons when her other protegees 
 were gone to their families, and when Miss 
 Lazenby, whose father was rich beyond calcu- 
 lation, and a Member of Council at Calcutta, 
 remained at " Belmont Establishment,*" seeing 
 that she had no relations in England with 
 whom to pass the holidays. 
 
 James Sutherland, shortly after the arrival of 
 Miss Grace in the neighbourhood, had pro- 
 ceeded to London on the outside of a stage- 
 coach, to collect information as to her father, 
 and learned, to his heart's content, that the 
 reports of the old gentleman's wealth were well- 
 founded; that Grace was actually his only 
 daughter, that her mother was dead, that he 
 was very much attached to his child, and that, 
 in short, if he did not die worth a couple of 
 hundred thousand pounds, he was very much 
 calumniated in regard to his circumstances. 
 
 My reader may perchance have seen a cat 
 set a mouse — fix her eye upon the poor little 
 harmless thing — watch it — never look from it — 
 but sit ready to pounce down and snap it up if 
 it attempted only to wriggle its little tail. So 
 sat James Sutherland, and watched Grace La- 
 zenby : — with the same care, the same assiduity, 
 and with the same hope — did the young aspirant 
 
6 THE SUTHERLAXDS. 
 
 to wealth and contentment, apply himself to the 
 movements of his intended prize. 
 
 It was upon his return from London that he 
 commenced the systematic siege : and though 
 neither of the parties were talkative, and some- 
 times the whole evening would pass away with- 
 out any conversation at all, still he read up, to 
 make himself interesting in the eyes of his Dul- 
 cinea by a knowledge of India and Indian cus- 
 toms, until he was able to navigate the Ganges 
 with her from Bally Xuggur to Chandpoorah, 
 and from Sickery Gully even up to Futtygur, 
 as correctlv as if he had been smoking his 
 chilum in her illustrious father's budgerow. 
 
 George, in the mean while, had announced his 
 intention of visiting Leamington, and pressed 
 James to accompany him thither ; but neither 
 the attractions of the Spa, nor the still greater 
 inducement of being franked by his brother 
 during his >tay there, could allure the persever- 
 ing lover from " Belmont Establishment,' 1 and 
 the fair object of his prudent adoration. George, 
 therefore, went alone, and some weeks had 
 elapsed after his departure, before he even pro- 
 posed returning; and when the day had been 
 twice fixed, and the return twice delayed, his 
 
THE SUTHERLA.NDS. 7 
 
 mother began to feel a little apprehensive that 
 her long-cherished fears with regard to his 
 acknowledged susceptibility were about to be 
 realized : — a third time he was by his own ap- 
 pointment expected at Ringsworth. Jane kept 
 perpetually straining her dull grey eyes from 
 the windows of the library towards a point in 
 the distance, where the undulations of the 
 country afforded them a view of the high road : 
 but all in vain. The first dinner-bell was rung 
 — no George; the second dinner-bell — no George 
 — half an hour's law — (unusual grace in a family 
 so regular) — was allowed — alas ! all to no pur- 
 pose, — still the wished-for member of the circle 
 was absent. Evening came, and Jane covered 
 up her moping Java sparrows with the accus- 
 tomed green baize — and made her weak-eyed 
 poodle's bed — and still no George. James re- 
 turned from " Belmont Establishment," and 
 kindly contributed his gloomy surmises and 
 apprehensions to the general stock, and the 
 family retired to rest, wondering what on earth 
 could have happened to the roving " Squire." 
 
 The season of doubt, however, was brief. 
 The following morning brought intelligence 
 exactly such as his anxious mother had always 
 
8 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 anticipated. It was announced that he had en- 
 gaged himself to be married to Miss Emily Bus- 
 bridge, a young lady, who, by his account of her, 
 was the most beautiful, most fascinating, and 
 most amiable creature in all the known world. 
 
 " I knew it," said his aged parent, laying 
 down his letter : " now, Jane, what do you say ? 
 did I not judge his disposition accurately? 1 ' 
 
 " The name," said Jane, " does not sound 
 aristocratic : however, I shall be perfectly satis- 
 fied if she have but a mind and a heart." 
 
 " And a fortune," said James. 
 
 " Oh, I shall not care for that, if she be but 
 companionable," said Jane. 
 
 u Companionable !" exclaimed her brother. 
 u Of course, my dear child, she will not be a 
 companion for us ; you will find that we must 
 retire and leave her and George in possession of 
 Ringsworth." 
 
 Jane expressed her doubt by a humming noise, 
 which I cannot attempt to describe, but which 
 was quite understood. 
 
 " There can be none," continued James : " it 
 is true, / may hang on, as long as I continue 
 single, and it will be convenient, and perhaps 
 better, that I should, for it will save the expense 
 
THE SUTHEltLANDS. 9 
 
 of an establishment ; but depend upon it, George 
 will not, and if he would, his lady will not, 
 allow his mother and sister to reside in her 
 house." 
 
 " I dare say you are right," said his mother ; 
 " it is quite the way of the world, James; as the 
 old proverb tells us: 
 
 * My son is my son till he gets hirn a wife ; 
 My daughter's my daughter all days of her life.' 
 
 However, this world is but a transitory one ; we 
 all have our turns, and I must make way for 
 others, as others made way for me. I have 
 always intended whenever this event should 
 take place, as I clearly foresaw it would, to 
 retire to Bath with Jane, and there we must 
 make ourselves as happy as we can." 
 
 " I wonder what sort of girl she is," sighed 
 Jane. 
 
 " I wonder if she has much money," mur- 
 mured James. 
 
 " I hope she is amiable," said the mother. 
 
 " I trust she will be prudent," said the son. 
 
 " I think she must be intellectual," ejaculated 
 his sister ; " George would not marry any body 
 very silly." 
 
 B5 
 
10 THE 5UTHERLANDS. 
 
 " When is the ceremony to take place ?" en- 
 quired James. 
 
 " I suspect it is over ;" said Mrs. Sutherland, 
 " he writes, as if he were married, but yet 
 surely he would at least have made us acquainted 
 with his bride before he irrevocably constituted 
 her one of his family."" 
 
 In such consultations as these much time 
 was consumed, which might have been spared ; 
 for it turned out that Miss Busbridge actually 
 became Mrs. Sutherland on the ninth day of 
 George's acquaintance with her. 
 
 He first saw her at a ball, where she seemed 
 the magnet of attraction. Lordlings and lan- 
 cers, the gayest of the gay, were in her train, 
 and hovering round her as flies congregate 
 about sugar : he enquired her name ; grew un- 
 easy at the attentions which were paid to her 
 by a tall gentleman in stockinet pantaloons ; 
 worried himself into a fever about her ; got in- 
 troduced by the master of the ceremonies ; 
 danced with her ; made himself extremely 
 agreeable; pushed the acquaintance in a 
 waltz, as far as he decently could ; found 
 her all soul and sensibility, all gentleness and 
 feeling ; continued the intoxicating whirl 
 
THE SUTHERLAND S. 11 
 
 until she grew giddy ; she complained of her 
 head ; leaned heavily on his arm for support ; 
 begged to be taken to her aunt ; and when 
 George had acceded to her request, immediately 
 introduced him to that portly and particularly 
 well-dressed lady, Mrs. Malooney. 
 
 From this moment he devoted himself to 
 Emily — his dear Emily — his bright-eyed Emily 
 — his downy-cheeked Emily, goaded by the oc- 
 casional smiles she bestowed upon her various 
 sighing cavaliers, and driven still harder by 
 the information she herself gave him, that her 
 aunt Malooney had expressed an intention of 
 forcing her into a match with the tall gentleman 
 from Cork, in the stockinet pantaloons, who was 
 the said Mrs. Malooney 's nephew. This little 
 history, added to the intelligence that she would 
 rather die than marry the said tall gentle- 
 man, forced our impetuous hero into that most 
 decisive measure which he had announced to 
 his family, as we have already seen, somewhat 
 suddenly. 
 
 The girl, who seemed all candour, evinced, 
 by her unreserved manner to George, an un- 
 questionable degree of pleasure and satisfaction 
 in his society ; and such was the amiable in- 
 
12 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 genuousness of the sweet young creature, that 
 three days after their first meeting, she actually 
 burst into a flood of tears at hearing of his 
 wealth and property, fearing, as she said, that 
 they would be insuperable bars to their farther 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Oh ! those tears, those plaguy tears — what 
 mischief they do! His heart palpitated at 
 the sight of them. He felt half wild with the 
 idea that so much beauty, so much unsophis- 
 tication should at once have become thus deeply 
 interested for him ; and when she turned from 
 his scrutinizing glance, and, raising her be- 
 witching countenance and melting eyes towards 
 heaven, murmured — " What would I give that 
 we had never met !" it was all over — the thing 
 was settled. 
 
 Here was a lovely creature, with cheeks 
 like maiden-blush roses, downy as peaches, 
 eyes like diamonds, and teeth like pearls, by 
 turns all softness and animation, with features 
 full of the sweetest expression, a figure all 
 symmetry, and a mind all sensibility. Here, 
 too, was George, who, like Caesar, had come, 
 had seen, and evidently had conquered ; and it 
 
the Sutherland's. 13 
 
 was clear, not only to himself, but to Mrs. Ma- 
 looney and the tall gentleman in the stockinet 
 pantaloons, that it was " une affair ejinie." 
 
 George, in the ardour of his enthusiasm, 
 opened his whole heart to Mrs. Malooney, who 
 received his overtures with great complacency, 
 eulogized Emily, as the most angelic person upon 
 earth, " quite a treasure ;" expatiated upon the 
 sacrifice she should make in relinquishing her 
 dear companion ; she had known her from a 
 child ; never was such a disposition, such a heart, 
 &c. &c. — in short, so devoted was she to the 
 dear creature, that she could not endure the 
 society of any other female ; which George in- 
 clined to think extremely probable, for, ex- 
 cept in public rooms, he never saw any ladies 
 with his dear Emily and her amiable chaperone. 
 However, Mrs. Malooney described her as per- 
 fect. She was poor, she admitted, — but what of 
 that ? George had plenty of money, and, mad- 
 dened by the intelligence that she was actually 
 beset by admirers, and persecuted with pro- 
 posals, he concluded the treaty by an offer of 
 his hand and heart; and, much to his gratifica- 
 tion and delight, Miss Emily Busbridge sur- 
 
14 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 rendered herself and all her attractions to her 
 devoted adorer at one of the churches of War- 
 wick, as I have before mentioned, on the ninth 
 morning of their acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Malooney, and her tall friend in the 
 stockinet pantaloons, however, left Leamington 
 before the ceremony, which would perhaps 
 have surprised George had not the old lady 
 explained to him that she thought it not at 
 all impossible, if she delayed her departure, 
 that her tall friend in the stockinets might 
 offer something like a remonstrance against the 
 match : having done so, George was quite 
 charmed with the old gentlewoman's care and 
 consideration of his dearest interests, and felt 
 that she exhibited altogether so much kindness 
 in her conduct towards him, that she entirely 
 won his heart, and having previously to her de- 
 parture presented her with a magnificent set of 
 amethysts, for which she had chanced to express 
 great admiration, the ardent youth conveyed 
 his lovely blushing prize to a sweet and care- 
 fully selected seclusion, where he devoted him- 
 self to her bewitching society, and all the joy- 
 ous world-defying pleasures of the honey-moon. 
 
 George, it must be understood, warm and 
 
THE SUTHEItLANDS. 15 
 
 enthusiastic as he was, was clever and intelli- 
 gent ; and if his judgment were blinded by the 
 dazzling splendor of Miss Emily's charms, 
 yet, as he became by degrees more and more 
 accustomed to their radiance, so did his " mind's 
 eye" gradually perceive things more clearly ; 
 and on the third day of his domestication at 
 Eglantine Cottage, (for so was the ready-fur- 
 nished harbour of love and happiness denomi- 
 nated by the landlord, a respectable tallow- 
 chandler) he began to fear that his bride's 
 manners were, perhaps, a little less fine, and 
 a little more abrupt, than they had at first 
 appeared to be : she contradicted him most 
 decidedly, and most unceremoniously ; and 
 even went so far as openly to declare that she 
 found their " bower of bliss" " uncommon 
 stupid," and to propose a speedy return to the 
 gaieties of more general society. 
 
 George, who was a devoted son, immediately 
 seized upon this expression of her desire to 
 change the scene, as a favourable circumstance 
 whereon to found a proposal for taking her 
 home to Ringsworth ; a measure which she, 
 by the way, did not appear in the smallest 
 degree to approve. She had all along evinced 
 
16 THE SUTHE11LANDS. 
 
 the greatest disinclination from being intro- 
 duced to her husband's mother and sister, 
 which he, kind soul, naturally attributed to 
 diffidence, to the delicacy of her situation under 
 the circumstances, and that sensitive modesty, 
 which, in spite of the ridicule and ribaldry of 
 learned ladies, makes beauty doubly winning, 
 and talent twice bewitching. 
 
 George, however, pressed his wishes upon 
 this particular point so earnestly and strenu- 
 ously, that she found any farther resistance 
 would be unavailing; and accordingly it was 
 arranged, that at the end of the following week 
 he should present the blushing bride to his 
 expectant family. 
 
 After George and his beloved had been 
 married some eight or nine days, the husband 
 expressed his surprise that his beloved Emily 
 had not written to the kind good-hearted Mrs. 
 Malooney, since her departure from Leam- 
 ington. 
 
 " La !" said Emily, " as if I had not— why I 
 have written to her twice since she has been 
 away." 
 
 " I never saw your letters, my love— " said 
 George. 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 17 
 
 " No, I should not think you did,* replied 
 the bride — " I always keep my letters to my- 
 self. Tracy, my maid, always puts them into 
 the post for me. You don't think I am such 
 a fool as to trust strangers — " 
 
 " I am no stranger, dearest," soothingly mur- 
 mured her devoted George. 
 " No, you are no stranger." 
 " And moreover I do happen to be your 
 husband, into the bargain," added he, half 
 pettishly, and feeling, if the truth must be 
 spoken, somewhat grieved at seeing that his 
 adored partner preferred Tracy as a confidante 
 to himself. — " I know, however, that you have 
 not heard from your Aunt." 
 
 " Oh ! but I have," said Emily, " twice." 
 u You never mentioned it to me." 
 " I did not know you wanted to know." 
 " But I have seen no letter for you." 
 " No, to be sure, Tracy always gets my 
 letters ; because, as I said before, I don't want 
 everybody to know my business." 
 
 " Umph," said George ; and he rose from 
 his chair, and walked to a window, not quite 
 so well satisfied with the point of this little 
 dialogue. 
 
18 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " My father is coming over to England al- 
 most directly," said Emily carelessly. 
 
 This was, indeed, the tenderest of tender 
 ground. George had only heard the name of 
 that respected personage mentioned once be- 
 fore ; he knew that he held some important 
 situation in a foreign country, but, as Mrs. 
 Malooney had hinted that the lovely girl was 
 not on the best terms with her parent, he had 
 studiously avoided in his leisure to make such 
 enquiries upon this very important point, as 
 he had overlooked in his haste. 
 
 " Is he?" said George. 
 
 " Yes ; Mrs. Malooney tells *ne he h»^ 
 given up his office abroad," said Emily. 
 
 " What — might — that — have— been ?" en- 
 quired George, with a trepidation proportionate 
 to the importance of the question. 
 
 " He was appointed Surveyor General of 
 Poyais," said Emily. 
 
 " Ah ! I believe that has been rather an 
 unfortunate speculation, " said George. 
 
 " I believe so too," answered his lady, " but 
 you see, there 's a lot of us in family, and he 
 embarked in the expedition with great promises 
 from Edinburgh; and one reason why my 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 19 
 
 father and I quarrelled, was his not taking me 
 with him, for he said I should do better at 
 home. However, as it has turned out, it 's all 
 for the best.' 1 
 
 This mode of referring to the extent of her 
 family, the language adopted in that reference, 
 the equivocal state of her father's circumstances, 
 and, above all, the extraordinary way in which 
 she alluded to her marriage with her devoted 
 lover, were any thing but satisfactory to George; 
 indeed, such was his feeling at the moment, that 
 he dreaded to seek any farther, and purposely 
 changed the conversation, in order that he might 
 remain in that blissful ignorance, the enlighten- 
 ment of which, he, with the Poet, seemed to 
 think would have been folly. It must be ad- 
 mitted that the appearance of things was not 
 quite unsullied; however, the matter was set- 
 tled, the bargain concluded, and the wisest 
 thing he could now do, was to make the best of 
 it. Even supposing her father had been indis- 
 creet — " nemo mortalium, : ' &c. — even suppos- 
 ing him to be poor, George had sufficient to 
 ensure his happiness, and that of his adored 
 Emily, and what more was wanting? and in 
 this manner he went on soothing and satisfying 
 
20 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 himself that he had most wisely consulted his 
 comfort, and acted most prudently in connecting 
 himself with the numerous and respectable fa- 
 mily of the Busbridges. 
 
 George having duly announced his intention 
 of presenting himself before his respected and 
 respectable parent on the Thursday following, 
 made all the proper and necessary preparation 
 for removing his blooming treasure. His own 
 man and Mrs. Tracy (who was a smart, arch- 
 looking, bright-eyed Irish girl, pert, humorous, 
 and mightily familiar) being in due form packed 
 and installed in and about his travelling car- 
 riage, the bridal party moved homewards ; 
 Dixon the servant, and Tracy the soubrette, 
 imitating, as I believe, in the minutest particu- 
 lars, the conduct of their master and mistress 
 upon this memorable expedition. 
 
 The interesting moment at length arrived; 
 the equipage of George Sutherland, Esq. was 
 seen from the front windows of Ringsworth ra- 
 pidly traversing the sweep from the ancient 
 gates of his paternal domain. James Suther- 
 land proceeded to the hall-door, and, summoning 
 all the disposable domestics to welcome their 
 master and mistress, stood uncovered on the 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 21 
 
 steps to receive the happy couple. Jane ran to 
 a looking-glass and adjusted her frill, twisted 
 her limp ringlets round her long pale fingers 
 into apologies for curls, bit her white lips to 
 give them a " little red," and smoothing her 
 scant eyebrows, prepared to dress her counte- 
 nance in smiles. Her mother laid down the 
 book she had been reading, and, depositing her 
 spectacles thereon, rose from her seat, and 
 dusted away, as it were, from the folds of her 
 ample black silk gown, sundry furrows of snuff, 
 which had gradually accumulated in her lap in 
 the course of a long morning's sederunt 
 
 She advanced a few steps from the place 
 where she had been sitting, and received from 
 the hand of her son James into her embrace the 
 wife of her son George ; who having, in the 
 first place, saluted the cold lips of his cowslip- 
 coloured sister, succeeded to the arms of his 
 mother, while Emily received the accolade from 
 Jane. 
 
 " My dear daughter-in-law/' said Mrs. Su- 
 therland, who was really prepossessed in her fa- 
 vour by her appearance, " you are welcome to 
 Rings worth ; long may you enjoy the blessings of 
 this world under its roof, and may your life and 
 
22 THE SUTHERLAtfDS. 
 
 that of your dear George, be as happy and as sa- 
 tisfactory to yourselves and your family, as mine 
 has been heretofore in the same spot with him, 
 now gone to a better place !" 
 
 " Thank you, ma'am, 11 said the blushing 
 Emily, " I dare say we shall do uncommon 
 well:' 
 
 James screwed up his mouth and looked at 
 Jane, whose mouth was screwed up already. 
 
 " We are determined to look at the bright 
 side of every thing," said George, who saw in a 
 moment, however amicable his mother's manner 
 or intentions might be, that the younger branches 
 of the family had made up their minds to a 
 totally different line of conduct. 
 
 " Jane, my love," said the matron, " do the 
 honours ; shew your sister-in-law her room. And 
 do you, James, ring for Evans, who will give 
 Mrs. George Sutherland's maid the carte du pay. 
 
 " The what, ma'am ?" said Emily, whose pa- 
 rents thought with Milton, that one tongue was 
 enough for a woman, and had taught her no 
 more. 
 
 " She will shew your maid your dressing- 
 room, my love," said Mrs. Sutherland. 
 
 " Oh ! I beg your pardon, ma'am," answered 
 Mrs. George. 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " This way then, my dear sister," cried Jane 
 to the new comer, and taking her sororially by 
 the hand, she led her forth from the oak par- 
 lour to the principal bedchamber, Mrs. Suther- 
 land having, with the foresight of a prudential 
 lady, removed from her own apartment to ano- 
 ther, as a minister who sees the certainty of 
 approaching dismissal, takes the most favourable 
 opportunity of resigning. 
 
 " Well, James,*" said George, " and how do 
 you make it out ?" 
 
 " Much as usual, George," said James, " to 
 be sure I have not gone quite so far as you, 
 but" 
 
 " Ay, by the way, how is the little Grace ?" 
 
 " As calm, and as cold, and as quiet as ever, 1 ' 
 said James. 
 
 " Not married yet ?" asked George. 
 
 " I suspect the flame is hardly strong enough, 
 George," said Mrs. Sutherland. 
 
 " You have beaten me in your pretensions to 
 beauty, George," said James. 
 
 " You think Emily pretty ?" 
 
 " I think her remarkably pretty," said Mrs. 
 Sutherland. 
 
 " Rather too animated for me, you know," 
 observed James. 
 
24 THE'SLTHERLANDS. 
 
 " Young and wild/' answered George, " but 
 the best-tempered creature upon earth." 
 
 " Grace," whispered James, " expects her fa- 
 ther home from India almost immediately, and 
 then, my boy !" 
 
 " WeU ?" 
 
 " He has two hundred thousand pounds in 
 the funds, and no child but my Grace/' 
 
 "My Grace !" said George—" Oh, oh ! it has 
 got that length, has it ?" 
 
 " I believe," said Mrs. Sutherland, " that 
 Grace Lazenby is as much attached to James 
 as she can be to any thing. I certainly never 
 saw a creature of my own sex so provokingly, so 
 icily cold ; she moves so mechanically, acts so 
 systematically, and affects a tone of philosophy 
 far beyond her age." 
 
 " Ah ! my dear mother,' 1 said George, in re- 
 ference to a past affair, and in vindication of the 
 levity of his bride, from which he anticipated 
 many severe shocks to the family nerves, " the 
 silent and grave, the prim and the prudish, are, 
 in truth, not one whit better than the free- 
 hearted laughers. I always suspect, where I see 
 unnatural pretensions ; I always doubt, when I 
 hear uncalled-for professions; and I dare say 
 
THE SUTHERLAMDS. 25 
 
 there is but little real difference, if we could 
 read hearts, between my joyous rosy-cheeked 
 Emily, and James's little pale, phlegmatic, pla- 
 tonic, prudish Miss Grace Lazenby."" 
 
 " No satire, George," cried his brother ; 
 " we have always differed in our notions of 
 beauty and attraction. I cannot endure your 
 dashers, — they are my horror ; give me the re- 
 tiring modesty, the winning downcast diffidence, 
 the charms that must be sought. My heart is 
 not to be taken by storm — but a truce, here 
 are the sisters." 
 
 And hand-in-hand entered forthwith Mrs. 
 George Sutherland and Jane. She had not 
 made much progress, however, with her new 
 acquaintance ; for Emily, by an untoward want 
 of consideration, had commenced her intercourse 
 with her sister-in-law by an animated and highly 
 wrought attack upon old maids and virgins 
 crossed in love, meaning thereby to show the 
 vivaciousness of her conversational talent ; but, 
 unfortunately, striking at every word a dagger 
 into the still-aching heart of poor Jane. 
 
 Upon their return to the oak parlour, Emily's 
 answers to her mother-in-law's questions were 
 sharp and quick, and now and then had in their 
 vol. i. c 
 
26 THE SUTHERLAXDS. 
 
 character something perhaps undefinable, but 
 which brought the eyes of Jane and James per- 
 petually in contact. Nor was this telegraphing 
 wholly unnoticed by George, who felt rather 
 uneasy at the volubility of his careless wife, 
 which, accustomed as he had always been to 
 address his mother in a tone of deference and 
 respect, kept his blood mounting continuously 
 into his cheeks, and his heart constantly palpi- 
 tating during the rest of the conversation ; but 
 my reader may judge what his sensations were, 
 when, after looking for some moments at the 
 portrait of a gentleman, which hung over the 
 chimney-piece, the lively bride enquired " who 
 that horrid old fright was ?" 
 
 Jane burst into tears and retired — George 
 caught his bride by the arm and drew her to a 
 window — James tendered his support to his 
 agitated mother, and led her out of the apart- 
 ment, the old lady having previously blown her 
 nose twice sonorously, after the fashion of His 
 Majesty's ships, which, upon certain occasions, 
 fire signal-guns previously to sailing. 
 
 " Why, they are all gone, George," said Emily. 
 
 " Yes, my angel/' answered George kindly, 
 yet sorrowfully ; you have driven them away ; 
 
THE SUTHER LANDS. 27 
 
 you should not have spoken so abruptly about 
 that picture, it is the likeness of my poor fa- 
 ther !" 
 
 " Lord bless us !" cried Emily, " and that 's 
 it, is it ? What ! do they keep crying all this 
 time about him ? Well, but," continued she, 
 returning to the portrait ; "he is an old quiz, 
 you must allow that, George." 
 
 George said nothing, in hopes that silence 
 would best mark his disapprobation of the mode 
 in which his adored wife treated the topic ; but 
 he felt, and felt deeply too, that a few events 
 similar to that which had just occurred, would 
 inevitably drive his venerable venerated parent 
 and her sensitive daughter from Ringsworth 
 for ever. Indeed, after the family had separ- 
 ated, in order to dress for dinner, the original 
 members of it, met in close divan, to know how 
 they should comport themselves towards their 
 new connexion ; the result of which congress was 
 an unanimous declaration of their forgiveness of 
 a piece of thoughtless levity on the part of the 
 giddy girl ; and every allowance being pleaded 
 for her single-heartedness and ingenuousness, it 
 was determined that no allusion whatever should 
 again be made to the disagreeable subject ; and 
 
 c2 
 
28 THE SUTHERLAND*. 
 
 as after dinner they should be assembled in the 
 blue drawing-room, where the fatal object was 
 not, a peaceful evening was anticipated by all 
 parties. 
 
 Dinner put down, and Mrs. George seated 
 at table between her mother-in-law and brother- 
 in-law, looking extremely pretty, but making 
 somewhat more of a display of her person than 
 Miss Sutherland, (who was muffled and ruffled 
 up to the chin, and had no display to make) 
 accounted necessary, imagine what the feelings 
 of that young lady and her brother James were, 
 when they beheld their new relation abso- 
 lutely eating fish with her knife ! Their hor- 
 ror, however, was complete, when, in addition 
 to two or three glasses of Champagne, they 
 literally saw her discuss two Brobdignagian 
 tumblers of home-brewed October ale, which 
 tumblers she left perfectly prepared for the 
 trial " supernaculum." 
 
 Jane absolutely stared at her, while James 
 slily and silently made his comments. Jane 
 looked at the impropriety and unsentimentality 
 of her behaviour; James calculated upon its 
 extravagance : and George, who did not know 
 how to give her a hint, as to restraining her 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 29 
 
 appetites, felt more awkward than he had ex- 
 pected to feel, on the occasion of his wife's 
 debut at Ringsworth. 
 
 But, reader, if you had only seen the counte- 
 nance of Carr the butler, when his new mistress, 
 after drinking more Champagne than he had ever 
 seen his old mistress consume during the whole 
 course of her exemplary life, dashed away the 
 flowing ringlets from her snowy forehead, and 
 called for " Some more ale f you would have 
 died with laughing. 
 
 " Ale ! madam, — A— I— e ?" said Carr, slowly 
 and enquiringly ; and shrugging up his shoulders 
 in utter dismay, he retired to the sideboard, 
 and transmitted the foaming goblet to the giddy 
 girl by the hands of a livery servant, as if 
 dreading to administer the copious draught 
 himself. 
 
 When the ladies retired, the brothers were 
 left to a tete-a-tete, and to speak truth, neither 
 of them well knew how to commence a conver- 
 sation, which evidently must turn upon the sub- 
 ject of George's marriage. 
 
 James arranged his glass, and affected not to 
 know whether the claret was u with hinC or his 
 brother. However, at length, and after a pro- 
 
30 THE SUTHERLAXDS. 
 
 tracted and somewhat fidgety silence, George 
 broke the ice by enquiring if James were going 
 to see his beloved Grace that evening. 
 
 " Yes," said James ; " her tender little heart 
 would be pained if I failed to call." 
 
 " Pray now, James," said his brother, " to be 
 candid, because I am sure you don't care three 
 straws about the girl — have you positively ascer- 
 tained her fortune ?" 
 
 " My dear George," replied James, " you 
 little know me, if you suppose that I ever expect- 
 ed wealth to compensate for the absence of good 
 feelings and estimable qualities ; and before I 
 answer your question about Grace's property, let 
 me make you perfectly understand, that if she 
 had not one single shilling upon the face of the 
 earth, I should feel precisely the same interest, 
 and precisely the same affection for her, which 
 I honestly confess I feel at this moment." 
 
 " James," cried George, " we have known 
 each other for a certain number of years, and I 
 know such a little dowdy as Grace Lazenby, 
 
 would have no more chance with you " 
 
 " Dowdy ! — keep terms, keep termr, Master 
 George :" said James, " she is no maypole, I 
 grant you, but what then? — don't you know the 
 
THE SUTHEHLANDS. 31 
 
 established principle, upon which, men are said 
 lo admire that, which they look up to, and love 
 that which they look down upon.'" 
 
 " Very prettily argued indeed, my ingenious 
 brother ; but a bad excuse nevertheless: besides, 
 the poor creature is not straight \ n 
 
 " Straight ! what then ?" cried James ; " did 
 you never hear of the line of beauty — is that 
 straight ? moreover I have actually the authority 
 of one of the first surgeons in London, to prove 
 that not one woman in ten in this happy country 
 of ours, is perfectly straight. Besides which, you 
 talk of nothing but her person, while I am con- 
 sidering her intellect, her heart, her mind." 
 
 " That is your sister Jane's cant !" said George. 
 u - Mind, intellect, heart, — what has mind to do 
 with it ? the only accomplishments I ever saw 
 in Grace Lazenby, were speaking some half score 
 unintelligible Hindostanee words, cracking her 
 joints, and doubling her fingers over the back 
 of her hand." 
 
 " Come come, I called you to order before 
 dinner," said James, "for being severe upon 
 Grace." 
 
 " Inaptly named, you will admit, at all events,'' 
 interrupted George. 
 
32 THE SUTHEBLANDS. 
 
 " Well, but George," said James, t( I really 
 am anxious, however open to criticism Grace 
 may be, that above all men you should see her 
 with favourable eyes." 
 
 " So I would, my dear James/' said George, 
 " if you would but confess openly and candidly 
 that you are inclined to swallow the pill for 
 the sake of the gilding. I honestly tell you I 
 believe there is no earthly harm in the girl's 
 whole composition, and I am quite sure she 
 will make a mighty proper milk and water 
 partner for life; but I cannot allow you to 
 fancy that you succeed in imposing upon me 
 by praising her qualities, and telling me what 
 she is 9 when I know, my dear fellow, that your 
 real attachment is to what she has." 
 
 " I admit readily," said James, "I do not 
 like her the less for having a couple of hundred 
 thousand pounds !" 
 
 " What ! — you were joking, when you said be- 
 fore dinner that she had two hundred thousand 
 pounds I" 
 
 " By Jove, she has though," exclaimed the 
 animated lover. 
 
 " Then," replied George, "my dear brother, 
 make yourself easy : I have done, not one sylla- 
 ble more will I say in her dispraise. I am pre- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 pared to proclaim that she is all beauty and sym- 
 metry; roses bloom on her cheeks, diamonds 
 sparkle in her eye3, and honey dew hangs on 
 her lip ! Your prudence will luckily outweigh 
 my improvidence, and I shall teach my children 
 to look with hope and veneration to their rich 
 uncle and most amiable aunt. But are you 
 quite sure ? — positive ?" 
 
 " I discovered from Mr. Lazenby's agent by 
 a side- winded inquiry, that he is literally worth 
 more than two hundred thousand pounds ; and 
 moreover and above all, that he has but this one 
 only daughter. 11 
 
 " You seem to have made yourself master of 
 the subject," said George. 
 
 " As well as I was able. Of course, I could 
 not go point blank to the man's agent and ask 
 about his daughter's prospects and property as I 
 should about the age and qualities of a horse that 
 I proposed to purchase ; but I have sounded 
 carefully, and happen to know that I am 
 correct in my information. I even astonished 
 Mrs. Trainer herself; for Grace was put undo* 
 her care by a lady who is since dead, and the 
 only communications she has with Grace's family, 
 are half-yearly remittances from the very agent 
 I <peak of. Grace's father writes tenderly and 
 c 5 
 
34 THE SUTHETtLANDS, 
 
 periodically, and the first cessation of a regular 
 intercourse between them, has occurred at the 
 present moment, when he is on his voyage 
 homeward, and is daily expected in England.'" 
 
 " Well, James, I wish you joy with all my 
 heart," said George ; " you certainly have beaten 
 me in this pursuit, as you have in every other 
 where head and consideration are required, 
 Emily, you know, has not a single shilling in 
 the world, but an ample fortune in good spirits 
 and good temper. She is pretty ; don't you 
 think so?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly ; I should say more than 
 pretty; but I must own, she appears to me a 
 little too wild, a little too abrupt, — somewhat 
 unaccustomed to society, I should think." 
 
 " Yes, quite unsophisticated," said George, 
 " but ingenuous, — open as the day.*" 
 
 " Is it a large family ?" enquired his brother. 
 " Why, upon my life, James, to tell you the 
 truth," said George, " I believe I know rather 
 less about that fact than I ought to know. It 
 was but an eight days 1 acquaintance, as you are 
 aware, after all; and I honestly confess I ex- 
 pected to receive a very different letter from my 
 dear good mother on the occasion, from that 
 
THE SUTHEELANDS. 35 
 
 which she sent me. I am sure I never can 
 be sufficiently grateful to her for her kindness ; 
 and that it was, which annoyed me so deucedly 
 before dinner about my poor dear father's 
 picture." 
 
 " Ah J" said James, " that was but a trifle ; 
 there have been some other contre-temps besides 
 that, I believe. Poor Jane has been smarting 
 under some little severe things which your lady 
 has been firing at her, and which, uninten- 
 tionally, have cut her to the very heart." 
 
 " Dear, dear James, what can I do to pre- 
 vent this sort of warfare? — so soon commenced 
 
 too r 
 
 What might have been the pacificatory plan 
 of the anxious husband, I know not ; for at this 
 very critical moment Mr. James's servant an- 
 nounced that his pony was at the door in readi- 
 ness to bear its master to " Belmont Establish- 
 ment," to love, weak tea, and Miss Grace 
 Lazenby. 
 
 It was evident, however, that George knew 
 as little as might be of the family with which he 
 had so hastily connected himself; and a very 
 short time convinced him that the residence of 
 his mother and sister under the same roof with 
 
36 THE SUTHEE LANDS. 
 
 his wife was an impossibility. Not only did 
 Emily counteract and thwart every proposal or 
 plan which the old lady originated, but even 
 condescended to practical jokes upon Jane's 
 poodles and Java sparrows; and it reached the 
 ears of this willow-wearing fair one, that Emily's 
 maid Tracy had told Evans in confidence, 
 that she and her mistress were determined never 
 to rest till they had got the old ones out. 
 
 Jane, all sensitive as she was, received this 
 intelligence with less surprise than distress. 
 She was by far too unworldly to think of main- 
 taining a contest at such unequal odds with her 
 fair sister-in-law, and thought it the wisest way 
 to communicate to her mother the information 
 which had thus circuitously reached her. Her 
 mother saw the matter in precisely the same light 
 as her daughter, and became impatiently anxi- 
 ous to quit Ringsworth before such provocation 
 had been offered as might, perhaps, provoke the 
 guerre ouverte, and necessarily terminate all com- 
 munication between her son's family and herself. 
 
 Her uneasiness for George, however, did not 
 at all diminish, when she found Emily daily and 
 gradually changing the character and situation 
 pf Tracy from that of servant to companion. 
 Whenever they were surprised together, they 
 
THE SUTHEELANDS. 37 
 
 were either seated in close communication, or 
 else in such familiar intercourse, as to leave no 
 doubt that the difference in their relative situa- 
 tions in life was not so great as that which it 
 ought to have been. 
 
 Mrs. George had, long before the projected 
 departure of the old lady, assumed the head of 
 the table ; and the familiarity with which she 
 treated her brother-in-law, whom she invariably, 
 and much to his annoyance, called Jem, so 
 sickened Jane, that she ordinarily affected ill- 
 ness, and dined in her own room. James saw 
 all these things in progress, but George did 
 not ; he only discovered in his wife's conduct 
 the natural assertion of her rights, and, although 
 there was certainly an over-familiarity between 
 Tracy and herself, he considered that Tracy 
 was her oion maid, and justly estimating the 
 influence of such persons over their mistresses, 
 saw nothing peculiar or improper in their fa- 
 miliar association. 
 
 One fine morning, however, two important 
 events were announced in the family circle : 
 one, the return of Mr. Lazenby from India ; 
 the other, the proposed arrival of Mrs. George 
 Sutherland's two sisters on a visit to Rings- 
 worth. 
 
38 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 The former piece of intelligence decided the 
 motions of James; the latter promised to expe- 
 dite those of Mrs. Sutherland and her daughter, 
 who were determined, at all risk of inconve- 
 nience, to avoid the task of encountering two 
 more members of a family, a connexion with 
 which had already disturbed the quiet of their 
 once peaceful home, and disunited the fondest 
 parent from the most dutiful of sons. 
 
 It was painful to see the gradual decline of 
 that once unmixed respect and attention which 
 George at other times had been accustomed to 
 bestow upon his mother ; it was cutting to the 
 wounded heart of poor Jane to hear the re- 
 marks not only of Emily, but of her favourite 
 minister Tracy, upon " plain young women,' 1 
 and " ill-tempered-looking disappointed ladies," 
 which, together with sundry coarse allusions to 
 " mutton dressed lamb fashion," and the " un- 
 fortunate Miss Bailey, who hanged herself for 
 love," were dealt out in her hearing by the 
 amiable pair ; who, if they did not venture 
 to talk to Miss Sutherland in such a strain, 
 found frequent opportunities of talking at her, 
 of which, it must be owned, they never failed to 
 avail themselves. 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 39 
 
 In the midst of their preparations for the 
 removal of the mother and daughter to Bath, 
 James, whose affection for his parent and sister, 
 combined with his dislike of extravagance and 
 detestation of levity, actually made him hate 
 his new connexion, received a summons from 
 Mrs. Trainer, superscribed " Private," and re- 
 questing an immediate interview. He instantly 
 connected this challenge in his mind with the 
 arrival of Grace's father ; nor was he wrong. It 
 was on this very important and delicate subject 
 that Mrs. Trainer wished to speak to him alone 
 and confidentially. 
 
 James proceeded to the " Establishment,"" 
 where he found the matron sola, and evidently 
 prepared for a solemn discussion of the weighty 
 affair : his eyes wandered round the room for 
 Grace, but Grace was not to be seen. 
 
 " I have sent for you, my dear Mr. Suther- 
 land, 1 ' said Mrs. Trainer, " because I know 
 young hearts are sanguine, and young heads 
 inconsiderate ; and if you had heard what I 
 have done, from any body except myself, you 
 would perhaps have blamed me for want of 
 candour, or censured me for want of feeling. 
 — Miss Lazenby has left me." 
 
40 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " Indeed !" said James, and his countenance 
 altered ; " whither is she gone ?" 
 
 " To her father," said the sage matron. 
 
 " Without one word at parting r* 
 
 " I thought it best, — I had my reasons. " 
 
 " But I shall see her again." 
 
 " Often, I hope," said Mrs. Trainer: "she 
 is a good and amiable girl, and with her ex- 
 pectations, her modesty and humility are quite 
 exemplary." 
 
 " When does she return ?" asked James. 
 
 " Perhaps not at all ; but I have not been 
 unmindful of you, Mr. Sutherland ; I saw and 
 knew how both of ye were inclined, and I 
 think, I may safely say I have done my duty. 51 
 
 " Pray explain," said James. 
 
 " The sister of the lady who placed Miss 
 Lazenby with me," continued Mrs. Trainer, 
 " came this morning to fetch her, and take her 
 to London to her father, whose occupations pre- 
 vented his quitting town. I felt bound for the 
 sake of my dear Grace, as well as for yours and 
 my own, to explain to that lady my suspicion of 
 an existing attachment between you." 
 
 " Did you — indeed !" said James anxiously. 
 " I did — and I believe by what I said, I 
 
THE SUTHEKLAXDS. 41 
 
 have secured the interest of that lady in your 
 behalf." 
 
 " But Grace herself ?" 
 
 " Loves you !" said Mrs Trainer. 
 
 " You flatter me." 
 
 " Not I," said Mrs. Trainer ; " however, I 
 have written a letter to Mr. Lazenby, de- 
 tailing the nature and progress of your mutual 
 attachment, exculpating myself for any undue 
 influence over his child's affections ; describing 
 as accurately as I was able, the rank and for- 
 tune of her admirer, and expressing a belief 
 that her happiness is deeply involved and in- 
 timately connected with the successful termi- 
 nation of the intercourse.'" 
 
 " Ten thousand thanks, my dear Mrs. 
 Trainer; how shall I ever repay this kind- 
 ness ?" exclaimed the grateful lover. 
 
 " I will tell you how, James Sutherland, 71 
 answered Mrs. Trainer : " we are now speak- 
 ing, you know, in strict and perfect confidence; 
 I shall therefore be candid and explicit. I 
 have a son ; he married early and imprudently ; 
 he has a wife and four children, and is still a 
 subaltern in the army ; an opportunity pre- 
 sents itself of purchasing a company for him, 
 
42 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 I have not the money, you have ; lend me the 
 necessary sum to accomplish this purpose, and 
 I will secure you Grace Lazenby." 
 
 An attack upon James's purse was indeed a 
 most desperate attempt, and he appeared thun- 
 derstruck at this very abrupt advance. Could 
 Mrs. Trainer be mercenary, could she ha\e for- 
 warded his views upon Grace with an interested 
 motive, yet was he not, in point of fact, in her 
 power, in so far as that assuredly Mr. Lazenby 
 would consult her and take her advice upon 
 the marriage ? 
 
 These considerations crowded into James's 
 small and narrow mind in the space of half a 
 minute ; but they all made room for another 
 still more touching and immediate enquiry ; — 
 " What was the sum she wanted ?" 
 
 James, as I before said, instantly saw the 
 importance of Mrs. Trainer's good opinion ; 
 and although he loved his money dearly, still 
 he was enough of a politician to perceive 
 that the very best way of laying out his 
 capital was that which would secure him the 
 most profitable return ; he readily caught at 
 her proposal. It was clear that by acceding 
 to her desire, he should inevitablv secure her 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 45 
 
 by the double tie of fear and gratitude ; for 
 if she failed to exert herself sufficiently, ex- 
 position to the world, he was resolved, should 
 inevitably ensue. 
 
 But James even refined upon this refinement : 
 he told her that the sum she required, was at her 
 service ; and by way of ensuring her warmest 
 advocacy, and her most strenuous efforts in his 
 behalf, he explained to her, that she might 
 command the amount as a loan at all events; 
 but that, if he married Grace through her inter- 
 vention, the bond she would give him as security 
 for the advance, should be cancelled on the day 
 of the wedding. 
 
 Oh, that corruption such as this, should 
 rankle under the ivy-covered roof of " Bel- 
 mont Establishment ;" or that a library, well 
 filled with the works of Porteus and Tom- 
 line and Horsley, should have been the scene 
 of such a transaction ! Now could James 
 easily divine why things had occurred at " Bel- 
 mont Establishment," which had hitherto been 
 inexplicable ; now could he more readily under- 
 stand the intimacy which subsisted between the 
 respectable head of this seminary, and Mr. Biggs 
 the attorney, who was perpetually in her house, 
 
44 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 and who (no sooner said than done) was imme- 
 diately introduced to forward and complete the 
 arrangement proposed in the present instance 
 by the exemplary guardian of female morality, 
 for the laudable purpose of promoting her only 
 son's interests. 
 
 Mr. Biggs was a prudent, wary, tenacious, 
 taciturn personage, and, as times go, some- 
 what honest, and who, although retired from 
 business, had been selected by the lady of the 
 house as a gentleman quite to be relied on. 
 
 James felt a degree of awkwardness in open- 
 ing the business, but Mrs. Trainer explained to 
 him in a corner, that there was no necessity for 
 any confidential conditions in the obligation; she 
 was quite ready to trust to his honour as to return- 
 ing the bond in the event of the marriage ; and 
 that it needed only to be a simple bond for so 
 much money, covenanting on her part to pay 
 certain interest, and repay the principal at a cer- 
 tain period ; in short, she talked the matter over 
 with so much tact, and knowledge of the sort of 
 thing, that James felt assured that she was 
 a very prudent long-headed person, not alto- 
 gether unaccustomed to similar negotiations : 
 and elated beyond measure with the bright 
 
THE SUTHEItLANDS. 45 
 
 prospects of fortune which this temporary sacri- 
 fice opened to his view, the crafty lover gave 
 the necessary directions to Biggs, and in the 
 course of the following day received the valuable 
 document in return for fifteen hundred pounds, 
 which he paid with the greatest satisfaction into 
 the hands of the Dame ; convinced (as how 
 could he fail to be?) that in so doing, he had 
 laid the foundation of his future wealth aixl 
 prosperity. 
 
 James, who with all his worldliness had never 
 felt the smallest suspicion of his dear friend 
 Mrs. Trainer, was a good deal puzzled what to 
 make of society, when he found this venerable 
 personage, absolutely making a traffic of her 
 pupils ; quite certain in his own mind, that one 
 or two girls who had previously married early in 
 life, after having left the "Establishment," had 
 been disposed of in a similar manner. He de- 
 termined, however, carefully to conceal his 
 proceedings from George, against whom he an- 
 ticipated many future laughs in that golden age, 
 when he should possess his Grace and ten thou- 
 sand pounds per annum. 
 
 In the mean time, Mrs. Sutherland and Jane 
 bade adieu to Ringsworth ; and it was a moving 
 
4G THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 sight to see the old servants take leave of their 
 ancient mistress at the gate : there was scarcely 
 a dry eye amongst them ; and Carr, whose grey 
 locks blew about in the breeze as he stood bare- 
 headed at the carriage-door, looked as if his last 
 hope of comfort was fast fleeting from him. 
 Judge what Jane's feelings were, when, in 
 the midst of this scene, she cast her eyes up- 
 wards towards the house, and beheld Mrs. 
 George Sutherland and her own maid Tracy 
 dancing about wildly and grotesquely, evidently 
 for joy at their departure, in one of the bed- 
 chambers, the windows of which happened for- 
 tuitously to be open. 
 
 Poor Jane said nothing, but drew back in the 
 carriage, in order that the lively tenants of her 
 ancient home might not have the gratification 
 of knowing that she had seen their Terpsi- 
 chorean evolutions. 
 
 Mrs. Sutherland shed tears as she parted 
 with her faithful domestics. It was natural 
 that she should ; and when George kissed her 
 extended hand, she sank backward in the ba- 
 rouche, and uttered a prayer for happiness, which, 
 however fervently she implored the blessings of 
 
THE SUTHERLAND*. 47 
 
 Heaven upon his head, she felt apprehensive 
 might never be his. 
 
 The week in which they took their departure 
 had not passed before Mary Busbridge and 
 Lucy Busbridge, the grace-like sisters of the 
 lady of the mansion, arrived at Rings worth, 
 escorted by two important personages, one the 
 tall gentleman in the stockinet pantaloons, 
 whom my readers may remember to have heard 
 of at Leamington ; the other, a Lieutenant 
 Mullhologan, on the half-pay of a Columbian 
 regiment of Horse-Marines. 
 
 George received this importation of visitors 
 with the good-nature, of which he had an abun- 
 dance, and Emily did the honours of the house 
 with exquisite skill and activity. George could 
 not, however, avoid noticing the extraordinary 
 familiarity which existed between his wife's 
 maid Tracy and the newly-arrived ladies ; nor 
 did the free and easy manner in which the 
 beaux practically asserted their entire intimacy 
 with his sisters-in-law quite gratify James, who, 
 although anxiously awaiting a call to London 
 from Mr. Lazenby, still remained at Rings- 
 worth. 
 
48 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 James observed, moreover, that the Lieute- 
 nant upon half-pay, and the tall gentleman in 
 the stockinet pantaloons, played billiards with 
 uncommon skill, and possessed all the delicate 
 arts of chalking, and twisting, and screwing, and 
 angling in a supereminent degree. He remarked^ 
 too, that they appeared to have an over-addiction 
 to Claret and Champagne, and a peculiarly strong 
 affection for Ruydersheimer and Markbrunner ; 
 and that they were by no means over-scrupulous 
 in ordering out his brother's horses, and gallop- 
 ing them at a pretty sharp rate, in all directions, 
 over the neighbouring country. Late hours and 
 drinking speedily usurped the places of tem- 
 perance and sobriety ; and after five days sejour, 
 the invaders were evidently the conquerors — 
 James gradually trained off from the party, 
 George yielded to all their persuasions, and 
 Carr the butler was confined to his bed. 
 
 On the sixth day, after dinner, and when the 
 wine had circulated pretty freely, the Lieu- 
 tenant observed to our tall friend in the webs, 
 that Emily was very like what her father must 
 have been. 
 
 " D'ye think so," said the other ; " I think 
 Tracy more like old Buz than any of them." 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 49 
 
 James looked at George — it was the last day 
 of his stay at Ringsworth. 
 
 " Buz made a bad end, George, didn't he ?" 
 said the tall gentleman in the stockinets, fa- 
 miliarly, to the head of the house of Suther-* 
 land. 
 
 " Buz ?" repeated George. 
 
 " Buz F* 1 echoed James. 
 
 "Ay, Buz!" said the Lieutenant, "that's 
 what we used always to call old Boniface, after 
 his accident." 
 
 " Boniface ?" exclaimed James. 
 
 " Boniface ?" repeated George — " pray whom 
 do you mean, Major ?" 
 
 By which it is to be inferred that the tall 
 gentleman in the stockinets had attained to the 
 rank of field-officer. 
 
 " I mean your father-in-law," was the reply. 
 
 " Oh P said George ; somewhat ashamed to 
 confess how very little he knew upon the subject. 
 
 " I'll be hanged," said the Lieutenant, " if I 
 don't think the old fellow was ill-used — don't 
 you, Sutherland ?" 
 
 " Upon what occasion," simply, and somewhat 
 coldly, enquired the master of the house. 
 
 " Why, upon the occasion : if he had had good 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 THE SUTHEItLANDS. 
 
 counsel, I do think, by Jove, he would have 
 got off." 
 
 " Off what ?" asked James. 
 
 "Why, that ugly business at Liverpool; — 
 because," added the Lieutenant eagerly and ear- 
 nestly, " his hand never was seen through the 
 broken window, and not one bit of the property 
 was ever found upon him." 
 
 James and his brother opened very wide their 
 eyes and ears. 
 
 " I don't in the smallest degree compre- 
 hend," said James, " what you are talking 
 about." 
 
 " No, no, to be sure," said the Major ; " it is 
 very silly to talk about it at all, Mulhologan ; 
 besides, the servants may overhear, and there 's 
 no use in their knowing any thing of the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 " But who do you mean had his hand through 
 a shop window, and ?" 
 
 (% What, hasn't Emily told you ? She is 
 a sly little devil, to be sure ; that's just like her, 
 Bob, isn't it ?" said the Major, appealing to the 
 Lieutenant. " Just like her, keeping all that 
 story snug about Bill Hayes and the watch." 
 
 " T really should thank you, gentlemen," said 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 51 
 
 George, " to let me a little farther into this 
 history." 
 
 " Why, don't let Emmy know that we have 
 told you, else she '11 be savage with us," said 
 the Lieutenant : " but old Buz, her father, as 
 I supposed you had known, kept the Hog-in- 
 Armour, at Mickleworth, and there failed. 
 The girls were fine showy creatures ; Emmy 
 was the best of the bunch, by the by ; and old 
 Mrs. Malooney, a great ally of the Major's 
 here, who happened to come over from Ireland 
 at the time of the old man's smash, took them 
 up and carried them over to Dublin, and about 
 to Cheltenham and Leamington, and, I believe, 
 she made a very pretty thing of it, one way or 
 the other. Old Buz got off to Edinburgh, and 
 was appointed by somebody, Surveyor-general 
 at Poyais, went out and found no Poyais to sur- 
 vey, so he returned, and being " hard up," as 
 we say, took it into his head to break a shop- 
 window at Liverpool, and take out some trinket 
 stuff, for which he is now hard at work upon 
 the tread-mill at Lancaster, whence he will 
 speedily retire to Botany Bay." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed James in an agony — 
 " My brother's father-in-law, Sir !" 
 d2 
 
52 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " Ah," said the Lieutenant, " the same — 
 that is to say, his nominal father-in-law." 
 
 " Nominal, Lieutenant !" said George. — 
 What do you mean by nominal ?" 
 
 " Why I mean he would be your father-in- 
 law if you were really married to our little 
 Emmy." 
 
 " Really married ! why so I am. Do you 
 imagine that if I had not been really married, 
 I should have brought a female into .my family, 
 the mistress of my house, and the associate of 
 my mother and sister ?" 
 
 " Why !" said the Major, staring at him, 
 much astonished, " you don't mean to say that 
 you are really married to our little friend." 
 
 " But I do," said George. 
 
 " God bless me !" said the Lieutenant, look- 
 ing mightily confused : " Major, I — I didn't, 
 eh ?" 
 
 " 'Gad/' said the Major, " I had no notion 
 of that ; I thought it was only a Malooney 
 marriage: why, then, for once, Emmy has 
 turned to speaking truth." 
 
 James was, by this time, overwhelmed with 
 grief and consternation : not only had the 
 dreadful history of the Busbridges thus un- 
 
THE SUTHEIILANDS. 
 
 53 
 
 expectedly and abruptly burst upon him, but, 
 in addition to every other calamity attendant 
 upon the frightful denouement, the reflection that 
 the whole of this detail would probably reach 
 Mr. Lazenby's ears, and destroy at one fell 
 swoop all his hopes and expectations, drove him 
 half mad. 
 
 As for poor George, he was paralysed. Now, 
 indeed, was the leisure of repentance come : what 
 had he done? had he been duped — cheated? 
 No, it seemed not, — he had duped and deceived 
 himself ; and Mrs. Malooney, whom he soon dis- 
 covered to be a person actually supporting her- 
 self by pandering to the profligacy of the rich 
 and great, had merely allowed him to settle 
 one of her protegees comfortably ; she, the said 
 Mrs. Malooney, having stipulated for a reward, 
 which Emily's mingled ingenuity and cunning 
 soon procured her, by continued drafts upon 
 her husband's purse, not indeed in money, but 
 by the purchase of costly articles at various 
 fashionable repositories, negotiated for her as 
 the wife of George Sutherland, of Ringsworth, 
 Esq. ; the bills for which only lay dormant till 
 the sharp air of the approaching Christmas 
 should rouse them from their slumbers. By the 
 
54 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 artful agency of Tracy, who, it turned out, was 
 neither more nor less than her half-sister, Mrs, 
 George had accumulated sufficient property to 
 gratify her ancient and avaricious chaperone, 
 who, since her departure from Leamington, 
 had been bringing forward her two sisters, 
 under the temporary protection of her depen- 
 dants Lieutenant Mulhologan, and the tall gen- 
 tleman in the stockinet pantaloons. 
 
 No sooner, however, had these worthies, 
 under the influence of a somewhat too copious 
 libation of Chateau Margaut, made this gratui- 
 tous disclosure to their host, than they began to 
 repent of their communicativeness. The truth 
 is, that they doubted the fact of George's mar- 
 riage, and had intended to extract the real state 
 of the case from him, with that art and finesse 
 with which they were quite competent to con- 
 duct an enterprise at once so extremely delicate, 
 and, to them, important : for such was the 
 knowledge of the character of their female 
 friends which the two beaux possessed, that 
 they always believed the history of the wedding 
 to have been made up by Mrs. Malooney and 
 Emily ; Mrs. Malooney, on the other hand, 
 being too well aware of the persons with whom 
 she had to deal in the gallant and exemplary 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 55 
 
 gentlemen, the present inmates of Ringsworth, 
 to trust either of them with more of her affairs 
 than was absolutely necessary to the conduct of 
 her schemes— in short, for various purposes the 
 plot, in all its parts, was composed of trickery 
 and deception ; and these very knaves, who 
 were absolutely swindling the unsuspecting hus- 
 band, were in their turn mere puppets in the 
 hands of the designing sibyl. 
 
 The Major, (who, in justice to our army 
 I should say held his commission in the Third 
 Regiment of Poyasian Green Hussars,) and the 
 Columbian Lieutenant, seeing that George was 
 completely overcome by the intelligence which he 
 had so unexpectedly and abruptly received from 
 them, and James having retired half bewildered 
 to "Belmont Establishment," began to soothe and 
 console their agitated host. They praised Emily 
 to the very echo, talked of her good temper, and 
 argued as to how she could have any thing to do 
 with her father's crime ; and after imbibing some 
 more claret, and directing the illumination of 
 the billiard-room, they so far prevailed upon 
 George, that he promised to take no notice to 
 his wife of the conversation which had passed 
 — a precaution which, it must be admitted, 
 Vvas reasonable ; for, upon the principle that 
 
56 THE SUTHERLAND?. 
 
 " What cannot be cured, must be endured," and 
 that " What 's done, cannot be undone," the 
 only mode of treating the affair was to make the 
 best of it. Their careful anxiety for the peace 
 of the family, however, was not so efficient as it 
 might have been ; for it turned out that Emily 
 and her sisters had posted themselves at the 
 door of the dinner-parlour, with the intention of 
 overhearing that sort of convivial jocularity 
 which is not ordinarily indulged in, while la- 
 dies are present, and which, in society such as 
 the Busbridges were accustomed to, usurps the 
 place of enlightened conversation, and the ra- 
 tional interchange of sentiment and opinion. 
 
 Huddled together on their knees, the ears of 
 two of them close to the pannels, and the eye of 
 the third applied to the key-hole of the dining- 
 parlour door, were this group of Ringsworth 
 Graces detected by Mr. James Sutherland, as he 
 quitted the room on his way to the bower of his 
 beloved Miss Lazenby (in whose absence he 
 constantly visited its guardian angel in the hope 
 of news). As he touched the lock, they took 
 wing like a covey of partridges ; but their 
 flight, though precipitate, was unavailing. The 
 cracking of knees and ancles, and the rustling of 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 57 
 
 drapery, as James " put them up," betrayed the 
 fluttering fugitives ; and their already horrified 
 brother-in-law received in the spectacle of their 
 retreat a fresh specimen of the breeding and ac- 
 complishments by which his newly-acquired con- 
 nexions were so unfavourably distinguished. 
 
 Little did the calculating lover anticipate 
 what was awaiting him at " Belmont Establish- 
 ment." Hardly, perhaps, will my reader expect 
 to hear that Mrs. Trainer had received a letter 
 from Mr. Lazenby, thanking her for her can- 
 dour, and praising her discernment, and inviting 
 Mr. James Sutherland to town — explaining the 
 pressure of his own personal business which in- 
 duced him to take this measure, and actually 
 enclosing a civil note addressed to his intended 
 son-in-law, requesting the pleasure of a visit 
 from him. 
 
 James was completely overcome by the ex- 
 cellence and importance of this communication : 
 he could with difficulty restrain himself from 
 the most violent expressions of joy and satisfac- 
 tion, and instantly resolved that the early dawn 
 of day should find him on his way to London ; 
 in which resolution he was much strengthened by 
 the counsel of Mrs. Trainer, who advisedhis start- 
 d5 
 
58 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 ing forthwith post for town. It would, she 
 said, evince his ardent affection for Grace, and 
 his unmixed respect for her father. " Besides, 
 James Sutherland," said Mrs. Trainer, " there 
 is nothing like striking while the iron *s hot." 
 
 James appeared entirely to agree with his 
 ancient counsellor, but prudently recollected, 
 in the midst of his ecstasies, that there was a 
 heavy night-coach which regularly passed 
 through Ringsworth at eleven o'clock, which 
 would answer all the purpose of a post-chaise, 
 and not cost one quarter as much. Mrs. 
 Trainer, although rallying him upon his ill-timed 
 economy, admitted the justice of his scheme, 
 and accordingly he returned to the home of his 
 fathers — how profaned — he did not stop to think, 
 to put his plan in execution ; and after giving 
 directions to his servant to prepare his luggage 
 for a journey, proceeded to take leave of his 
 brother, and, at the same time, communicate the 
 events of the evening, and the receipt of the 
 amicable letter from old Lazenby. But, alas ! 
 when he reached the billiard-room for that pur- 
 pose, he found George in such a state of intoxi- 
 cation, as to be incapable of receiving the inte- 
 resting intelligence which he had to impart, play- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 59 
 
 mg high at the game which lie did not under- 
 stand with the Lieutenant, who was a first-rate 
 artist, while the care of the score was solely con- 
 fided to the charge of the tall gentleman in the 
 stockinet pantaloons. 
 
 James saw that any attempt at business would 
 be vain in the present state of things : and, 
 therefore, determined to withdraw himself 
 quietly, merely leaving a letter for his unfor- 
 tunate brother, which in the morning he might 
 l>e sufficiently recovered to read. As he crossed 
 the hall, (promising as his own circumstances ap- 
 peared,) his heart felt any thing but light, when 
 he heard the ladies in the blue drawing-room 
 romping and screaming, and laughing immode- 
 rately. He could not fail to reflect upon what 
 formerly were the customs of the house, nor, so 
 reflecting, fail to contrast that, which was, with 
 that, which had been. He retired to his room, 
 and wrote, briefly but affectionately, to George ; 
 and at a quarter past eleven the same evening, 
 found himself in the heavy night-coach, carrying 
 six inside and twelve out : which vehicle con- 
 tained, besides himself, two extensive farmers, 
 both as to real property and personal dimen- 
 sions, and a young person returning to London 
 
OU THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 from a rural excursion on a visit to her friends. 
 But although the men of land descanted some- 
 what diffusely upon the varying prices of wheat 
 and barley; and although the young person 
 seemed vastly well disposed to be extremely 
 sociable with James, James was too much occu- 
 pied with his own thoughts to devote any share 
 of his attention to his fellow-passengers. 
 
 It was impossible for him not to regret the 
 fate of his thoughtless brother ; it was impos- 
 sible not to anticipate the distress of his mother 
 and sister, when they should be informed, as 
 they doubtless soon would be, of the melan- 
 choly change of affairs at Ringsworth; and it 
 was equally impossible for James, with his dis- 
 position and character, to contemplate all these 
 scenes and events, without congratulating him- 
 self upon his superior judgment and prudence, 
 and feeling the futility and injudiciousness of all 
 the satirical observations which his connexions 
 had, during his past life, been pleased to make 
 upon his precocious steadiness and premature 
 carefulness in worldly matters. 
 
 As he slumbered on his way, his dreams 
 presented to his imagination heaps of gold and 
 silver plate and sparkling diamonds ; and he 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 61 
 
 saw his Grace all mildness and calmness, pour- 
 ing from a cornucopia into his outstretched 
 hands, showers of rupees, mohurs, and pa- 
 godas. When he awoke, and found still the 
 same anticipations haunting his thoughts and 
 pervading his mind, the journey seemed length- 
 ened, the horses appeared to creep, so anxious 
 was the ardent swain for the promised inter- 
 view with his intended father-in-law. 
 
 Every thing, " yea, the great globe itself, 1 ' 
 shall have an end; and accordingly, at seven 
 o'clock in the morning, Mr. James Sutherland 
 extricated himself from the stage, and having 
 disposed his " body politic" in a hackney 
 coach, directed the driver to carry him to the 
 Hummums in Covent-garden, where, as he 
 would not be expected to breakfast or dine, if 
 he did not choose to do so, he calculated he 
 could lodge more economically than at any 
 fashionable hotel, where dinners are dressed on 
 the shortest notice, and breakfasts delicately 
 served up at a charge which our prudent youth 
 was pleased to consider exorbitant. 
 
 Long and arduous were the operations of 
 James's toilet; every care was taken by the 
 anxious young gentleman to set off to the best 
 
62 THE SUTHEItLANBS. 
 
 advantage all the good points of his face and 
 figure. He had dispensed, for the present, with 
 the attendance of his servant, because, as he 
 should not immediately want him, he thought 
 he might as well remain at Rings worth, by 
 which his master would be saved the expense of 
 keeping him in the metropolis; but a barber 
 of Tavistock-street celebrity was summoned 
 upon the special occasion, and James's lank 
 hair, under his care, was taught to curl grace- 
 fully a la Brutus; strict orders were issued 
 that his boots might shine in all the "brightness 
 of Day " — and Martin ; and the neckcloth, after 
 four vain attempts, wrinkled round his neck in 
 folds, which would have made a dandy jealous. 
 
 Away to Portland-place did my hero forth- 
 with betake himself; his heart beat rapidly 
 as he knocked at the door of his proposed fa- 
 ther-in-law's house ; his knees trembled, and his 
 hands were chilly cold. But, anxious and ar- 
 dent as was his heart, he was, alas ! doomed 
 to be disappointed ; — " Mr. Lazenby and his 
 daughter were out of town on a visit at Lay- 
 tonstone, and did not return till the day after 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Now was it, that James felt mightily embar- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. Oc> 
 
 rassed how to kill time till the Nabob's re- 
 turn ; now did he rejoice that he had chosen 
 the Hummums, where he could sleep, and dine 
 wherever " cheap and nasty" dinners were to 
 be had ; and accordingly, after wondering a lit- 
 tle at the great man's remissness in leaving Lon- 
 don after having invited him to call, the par- 
 simonious youth proceeded to perambulate the 
 streets, look at every thing which was to be 
 seen gratis, and having thrown a " portion " of 
 tough roasted mutton into his stomach, upon 
 the points of a two-pronged steel fork, at some 
 economical dining-rooms near the Strand, he 
 proceeded at half-price to the pit of the Adel- 
 phi Theatre, where he dissipated his evening 
 in witnessing the freaks of Tom and Jerry, the 
 exhibition of which filled him so completely 
 with alarm and dread, that, upon quitting the 
 house, he ran home to the shelter of his bed- 
 room, where, alone, he fancied himself se- 
 cure from the nocturnal depredations of those 
 well-dressed vagabonds and under-bred fools, 
 who mistake noise for wit, rioting for fun, and 
 all sorts of rascality for " life and spirit." 
 
 The next morning James received an apo- 
 logetic note from Mr. Lazenby, (to whom his 
 
64 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 card had been forwarded,) who was still in the 
 country, whither he had been compelled to go 
 by urgent business, requesting the pleasure of 
 seeing him the day following that on which he 
 would receive his letter, at one o'clock. This 
 note, couched in the most friendly terms, served 
 to soothe all James's ire, destroy his doubts, and 
 re-assure his hopes ; and, as it is almost needless 
 to add, at one o'clock precisely on the following 
 day, Mr. James Sutherland once more raised the 
 massive knocker pendant at the door of Mr. 
 Alexander Lazenby, and in less than half a mi- 
 nute afterwards, was ushered into a magnificent 
 library, where one of some half-dozen servants, 
 who were grouped in the hall when he first en- 
 tered, requested him to wait, and informed him 
 that his master would see him almost imme- 
 diately. 
 
 James gazed round the room with a most 
 pleasurable sensation ; and although, as the 
 reader may easily imagine, the library was not 
 filled with books belonging to the newly-re- 
 turned nabob, who had taken the mansion 
 ready-furnished, still there was an air of af- 
 fluence and comfort about all the accompani- 
 ments, which cheered the hungry eyes of the 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 65 
 
 politic lover. After waiting some twenty 
 minutes, the door of the apartment was sud- 
 denly opened, and the expectant youth sum- 
 moned into the sanctum of the Rajah. 
 
 He followed the servant with anxious trepida- 
 tion ; and, when he entered the small study in 
 which the figure of Mr. Alexander Lazenby 
 first burst upon his sight, he could scarcely dis- 
 tinguish the object of all his hopes and fears. 
 
 " Mr. Sutherland, Sir," said the servant, as 
 he ushered the agitated young man into the 
 apartment. 
 
 Mr. Alexander Lazenby rose, advanced, and 
 extended his hand to James, who bowed pro- 
 foundly and reverentially. 
 
 " Pray sit you down, Mr. Sutherland," said 
 the Nabob. 
 
 Mr. Sutherland tacitly obeyed. 
 
 "lam afraid you have been kept waiting ?" 
 
 " Only a few minutes, Sir," said James. 
 
 " You received my letter, I presume ?" en- 
 quired the Nabob. 
 
 " It was to answer that in person, Sir, that I 
 immediately set off for town and arrived the fol- 
 lowing morning." 
 
 " What! I hope you did not travel all night?" 
 
66 THE SUTHERLAXDS. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, I did," replied James, trusting to 
 good-fortune that the aristocratic Indian would 
 not push his enquiry upon this part of the sub- 
 ject any further. 
 
 " I like this zeal, Mr. Sutherland," said Mr. 
 Lazenby : " it has the air of that gallantry and 
 chivalrous devotion to the fair which distin- 
 guished the cavaliers of the olden time, and 
 which, although some vestiges of it remained in 
 the year seventy-nine, have now, I fear, made 
 way for mere listless attention or common-place 
 civility ; I must congratulate Grace upon so fa- 
 vourable a specimen of your affection." 
 
 " Miss Lazenby, I hope, is quite well, Sir ?" 
 
 " She is quite well," said her father : " she is 
 not here at present, but still at Laytonstone on 
 a visit to the friend whose sister placed her at 
 Belmont Establishment, and who has a very sin- 
 cere regard for her ; she appears perfectly amia- 
 ble, I think, Mr. Sutherland?" added the anxious 
 parent interrogatively, and with a great show of 
 interest. 
 
 " I never met with a sweeter disposition in 
 my life, Sir," stammered out James. 
 
 " She seems to have profited by the care of 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 67 
 
 Mrs. Trainer," said Mr. Lazenby, " of whom I 
 must confess I have heard a very high cha- 
 racter." 
 
 " A very clever woman, I assure you, Sir," 
 answered Mr. Sutherland, whose thoughts re- 
 verted at the moment to her son, his promotion 
 in the army, and the disbursement of his own 
 fifteen hundred pounds. 
 
 " She speaks of you, Mr. Sutherland, in terms . 
 of the most unqualified praise," said the Rajah. 
 
 James bowed. 
 
 " And Grace, I believe, hears that praise with 
 pleasure." 
 
 James blushed, and bowed still lower. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Sutherland," continued La- 
 zenby, " had I not convinced myself of her opi- 
 nion, I should not have troubled you with an in- 
 vitation to London." 
 
 James continued bowing like the Speaker at 
 an impeachment. 
 
 " Your brother, I believe, is lately married ?" 
 asked Mr. Lazenby. 
 
 This was a question to which the answer was 
 full of difficulty. 
 
 " He is, Sir," said James. 
 
DO THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " A beautiful young lady, I am told ?" 
 
 " Very pretty and very young," answered her 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 " I remember your father, Sir," continued 
 the Nabob, "when I was over in England last, — 
 that was before Grace was born, and certainly 
 then we did not anticipate so intimate a con- 
 nexion as in all probability will eventually exist 
 between us, — he was an excellent man, Sir ?" 
 
 James echoed the praise of his deceased pa- 
 rent. 
 
 " I expect Grace to follow me home to-day," 
 observed Mr. Lazenby, " and I honestly con- 
 fess, that I am anxious to see you together. I 
 pique myself upon being a man of the world : 
 Mr. Sutherland, hasty marriages are frequently 
 subjects of long repentance, and — I am sure you 
 will forgive a father — I should feel gratified by 
 living with you both for a short time previously 
 to any definite arrangement — I think I could 
 judge— I—" 
 
 James saw in a moment that the old gentleman 
 very wisely desired to form an opinion of him 
 before he concluded the bargain, and that his in- 
 vitation to London resembled in some sort the 
 permission granted to a servant to " come upon 
 
THE SUTHEELANDS. 69 
 
 trial." This was exactly what James liked ; for 
 he, as well as his intended father-in-law, mightily 
 valued himself upon a certain insight into cha- 
 racter, and a prudential accommodation of his 
 mind, temper, principles, and conversation to 
 the man and his manners with whom he felt it 
 important, relatively to his own advantage, to 
 associate himself; he, therefore, readily caught 
 at the scheme, and began his insinuating system 
 by expressing his admiration of Mr. Lazenby's 
 paternal solicitude for Grace's comfort and hap- 
 piness, lauding the justness of his determination, 
 and announcing his own ready acquiescence in 
 the proposed plan. All he feared was, that, by 
 some unforeseen circumstance, some unexpected 
 denouement at Ringsworth, the history of his 
 inconsiderate brother's rash connexion with the 
 Busbridges might reach the ears of the Nabob 
 pending his probation : having, however, nothing 
 to offer against the arrangement, he chimed in 
 with it most harmoniously. 
 
 It was, as I said before, quite clear that Mr. 
 Lazenby did not intend to advance one step in 
 the negotiation until he had satisfied himself of 
 the real state of his child's feelings towards the 
 person who he had been told was her lover ; 
 
70 1HE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 and when he invited James to dinner at seven 
 o'clock, adding that he hoped so long as he 
 stayed in town he would consider the invitation 
 general, James saw that the conference for that 
 morning was at an end, and accordingly with- 
 drew until the appointed hour, when he was for 
 the first time to be domesticated with his beloved 
 Grace and her opulent sire. 
 
 Never perhaps did James pass a happier 
 morning in London than that which preceded 
 this opening dinner : there was an air of bonhoni- 
 mie about the Nabob, singularly contrasted with 
 the peculiar habits and tramontane manners of 
 the race in general : he appeared as if he had al- 
 ways moved in good society, and had as little of 
 the rust of the resident in his conduct, as of sal- 
 lowness in his complexion : he was quite a phoe- 
 nix of an Indian, and James saw in his candour 
 and amiable solicitude for his daughter, an ear- 
 nest of that liberality and warmth which were to 
 crown his toils and assiduity with wealth and 
 happiness. 
 
 At seven, James entered the drawing-room of 
 his father-in-law's mansion, and there, attended 
 by a smart middle-aged lady, well rouged and 
 much ringleted, sat his beloved Grace. She 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 71 
 
 received him mildly and placidly, and without 
 the smallest emotion allowed him to shake her 
 cold unclosed hand, without indulging even in 
 the relaxation of a smile, and introduced him to 
 her guardian-angel Mrs. Chatterton, unblushing 
 and unabashed. 
 
 From the embarrassment which any other 
 pair of lovers would have felt, the volatile chape- 
 rone speedily relieved this devoted couple : she 
 launched into an animated detail of their morn- 
 ing's drive, their visit to one place, their call at 
 another ; and astonished James not more by her 
 own excellent spirits and vivacity than by the 
 striking contrast they afforded to the still life of 
 his Dulcinea. 
 
 Just before dinner Mr. Lazenby entered the 
 drawing-room, attended by a remarkably hand- 
 some, elegant, well-dressed man, whom he intro- 
 duced as Colonel Fitzmaurice, and who made 
 his advances to the ladies with an air and manner 
 little calculated to gratify the vanity or soothe 
 the solicitude of James, who had hoped that the 
 party would have been strictly confined to the 
 family. He was doomed, however, to more dis- 
 appointments; for almost immediately afterwards 
 two new arrivals were announced — Mr, Currv 
 
72 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 and Mr. Rice, both Directors of that gigantic 
 monopoly which rears its head authoritatively in 
 Leadenhall Street— old friends of Lazenby, who 
 were also presented to the young mistress of the 
 mansion, and then to James, in a manner which, 
 it must be confessed, had something very conso- 
 latory in it, as far as his worldly views were con- 
 cerned, seeing that it was evidently understood 
 amongst them that he was the son-in-law elect : 
 indeed some observations made, loudly enough 
 for him to hear, convinced him that these friends 
 had been collected by Mr. Lazenby to canvass 
 his qualities and manners, as a sporting man 
 musters a party of judges to descant upon the 
 points of a horse which he has formed the 
 design of purchasing. 
 
 At length a relief to James was sounded in 
 the announcement of dinner ; and if any doubts 
 had remained on his mind as to the real inten- 
 tions of the assembled party, they would have 
 vanished, when Lazenby, offering his arm to Mrs. 
 Chatterton, said to the doubting lover, " Mr. 
 Sutherland, will you take care of Grace ? — our 
 other friends are at home," — this sealed the affair, 
 and with trembling steps he led his fair charge 
 down stairs, the Colonel and the Directors fol- 
 lowing tardily, the tediousness of their descent 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 73 
 
 being enlivened by sundry observations made 
 amongst themselves, which appeared, by the 
 mirth which they excited, to be remarkably en- 
 tertaining. 
 
 At dinner James was seated next his amia- 
 ble Grace, and during the repast several sly 
 innuendoes and jests were bandied about, each 
 tending to confirm the determination of all par- 
 ties as to the ultimate fate of our speculator, 
 whose assiduities were received by Grace with a 
 sort of negative satisfaction, occasionally amount- 
 ing to something almost like pleasure. 
 
 Sutherland could not but duly appreciate the 
 studied reserve of the gay Colonel towards his 
 intended. Indeed, so scrupulously cold and 
 distant was he in his manner towards the young 
 lady, that James thought it almost approached 
 to rudeness : even the elders of the party ap- 
 peared to his anxious eyes to treat her with less 
 attention and ceremony than he then felt were 
 due to the daughter of Mr. Lazenby, and which 
 he was quite sure he should have considered 
 wholly inadequate to the claims of the wife of 
 Mr. James Sutherland. 
 
 Dinner ended, and the ladies retired, the con- 
 versation turned upon occurrences long since 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 THE SUTHEKLANDS. 
 
 past, and those olden times, in which the shak- 
 ing of the pagoda-tree was an operation more 
 generally performed, and with greater success, 
 than in these modern days of moderation and 
 economy ; and James, of whom Colonel Fitz- 
 maurice before-mentioned took not the smallest 
 notice, felt himself completely "basketed 1 ' in 
 the midst of discussions upon the relative merits 
 of Civil servants of the East India Company, 
 whose names, however important the personages 
 themselves might be at Bundelcund or Furruck- 
 abad, no civilised human being had ever by any 
 chance heard of before. 
 
 Fitzmaurice, who had rather pleased James 
 in the early part of the evening by his delicate 
 reserve towards Grace, almost excited his anger 
 by the supercilious manner which he assumed 
 towards himself as it grew later ; and a few at- 
 tempts made at conversation with him having 
 been nipped in the bud by the unperturbed 
 serenity with which he replied to James's 
 remarks, nothing like an advance of their ac- 
 quaintance seemed probable, when the master 
 of the house, seeing that his intended son-in- 
 law was uncomfortable, which his manner suffi- 
 ciently proclaimed, endeavoured to draw him 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 75 
 
 out of his dilemma into the debate, by asking 
 him if his brother's wife was a Scotchwoman. 
 
 James was tremblingly alive to any discus- 
 sion upon this ticklish point, and replied that he 
 believed not — from the North, but not Scotch. 
 
 " What was her name ?" inquired Lazenby. 
 
 " Bus — bridge," faltered out James, in a 
 manner studiously slovenly, in the hope of dis- 
 guising her patronymic, so that it might be 
 mistaken for Brasbridge, or Barbridge, or Bain- 
 bridge, or any bridge, in short, but that which 
 it really was. 
 
 " Busbridge," repeated Mr. Lazenby, as 
 dreadfully correct as possible. 
 
 " 'Gad ! w said Colonel Fitzmaurice, who at 
 length seemed disposed to join in the conversa- 
 tion, " I never heard that name but once, and I 
 had no idea there was" any family of distinction 
 who bore it. I had a rascally servant with me 
 in Flanders of the name of Busbridge, and 
 placed the greatest confidence in him. The 
 fellow, one night, marched off during my ab- 
 sence, carrying with him two or three snuff- 
 boxes, a picture or two, and upwards of a hun- 
 dred Napoleons. I set the police after him, but 
 he escaped me, and all that I could learn was, 
 e 2 
 
76 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 that he had a father as great a rogue as himself, 
 and that there was a large family of them quite 
 as bad, and that the female part of the group 
 were as much distinguished for their virtues as 
 the sons, only in a different way. However, I 
 saw there was no use pursuing the thing, and so 
 the fellow got off to America." 
 
 The only doubt in James's mind at this mo- 
 ment was, whether the Colonel actually knew the 
 history of the birth, parentage, and education of 
 his vivacious sister-in-law, and had brought for- 
 ward this anecdote to account to James for the 
 hauteur with which he had treated him during 
 the day; or whether the anecdote was acciden- 
 tally introduced, as many anecdotes are in many 
 places, which, of all others, ought not for the 
 world to be mentioned. 
 
 James smiled, looked awkward, and felt ex- 
 cessively sick. Lazenby made an observation 
 upon the general misconduct of servants, and 
 the great deterioration every thing had under- 
 gone during the last five-and-thirty years ; in 
 which he was ably seconded by one of the im- 
 portant members of Leadenhall-street, to all of 
 whose dicta James most complacently assented ; 
 
THE SUTHER LANDS. 77 
 
 wishing himself, it must be confessed, any where 
 but where he was, and wishing still more de- 
 voutly that the gallant Colonel Fitzmaurice had 
 been fighting his country's battles in Flanders 
 at that very moment, instead of dining in Port- 
 land-place. 
 
 A thundering knock at the door announced 
 an arrival — some refreshers for the evening. 
 Colonel Fitzmaurice became for a moment sud- 
 denly animated. 
 
 " Colonel," said Lazenby, " that is your 
 summon s." 
 
 The Colonel smiled graciously, looked some 
 unutterable things, and began to wash out his 
 mouth; and having proceeded to clean his 
 teeth with the napkin deliberately and in 
 detail, he wiped his hands, folded up the 
 towel, and depositing it upon the table, there- 
 by unconsciously half eclipsing Jameses plate, 
 rose, kissed his left hand to the master of 
 the house, and retired to the drawing-room. 
 
 " That is a very fine young man, 1 ' observed 
 Mr. Curry, as he closed the door. 
 
 " Extremely gentlemanly," rejoined Mr. 
 Rice. 
 
 " He is perfect, I think," said Lazenby. 
 
78 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " Did you ever meet Colonel Fitzmaurice be- 
 fore, Mr. Sutherland ?" 
 
 " Never, sir," replied James, as indeed he 
 thought Mr. Lazenby might have surmised by 
 his manner; wishing, moreover, at the same 
 time, that he never might see him again. 
 
 " How are his affairs getting on ?" enquired 
 Mr. Curry. " Is he recruiting ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," said Lazenby ; " there are trus- 
 tees appointed, and the property is at nurse. 
 Of course, when he comes to the title, his 
 father's entailed estates descend to him, and his 
 object is to keep the rest of the property wholly 
 untouched till that time; he is, therefore, 
 starving himself upon some two or three thou- 
 sand a-year till that event occurs, which I am 
 inclined to believe cannot be very far distant." 
 
 " That place of his in Gloucestershire is a 
 beautiful thing,'" observed Mr. Rice. 
 
 " Magnificent I" said Lazenby. 
 
 " When was his father created a Peer ?" en- 
 quired Mr. Curry. 
 
 " I don't exactly know, but I dare say Emma 
 can tell." 
 
 " Oh, there can be little doubt of that? re- 
 
THE SUTHEHLANDS. 79 
 
 plied Mr. Curry, with a laugh, which evidently 
 meant something. 
 
 Emma ! — now who the deuce is Emma? 
 thought James, and to what Barony is this 
 man heir ? and why is Mr. Lazenby so much 
 interested about him ? — These were all impor- 
 tant subjects of speculation to our young friend, 
 from the consideration of which, however, and 
 from the dinner-parlour, he was summoned in 
 common with the rest of the party to coffee. 
 
 When they entered the drawing-room, James 
 perceived, in addition to Grace and Mrs. Chat- 
 terton, two ladies seated on the sofa. — One was 
 old and haggard, and on her head she wore a 
 sable velvet hat, loaded with plumes of feathers 
 of the same colour ; in her ears hung pendent 
 diamonds, top and drop ; around her shriveled 
 neck and arms were displayed a brilliant neck- 
 lace and bracelets ; purchased roses decked her 
 furrowed cheeks, and borrowed ringlets revelled 
 on her wrinkled forehead. In heaps upon her 
 parchment bosom lay the modest lily pulverized, 
 which, contrasted with her old and bilious- 
 looking point-lace tucker, produced upon the an- 
 cient skin it was intended to adorn, a similar 
 
80 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 effect to that which assiduous poulterers impart 
 to breasts of venerable ducks and geese before 
 they despatch them to their customers. 
 
 This lady was Mrs. Fisherton. At her side 
 sat a young creature, flirting assiduously with 
 James's bane, the Honourable Colonel, who ap- 
 peared to be her devoted cavalier, and who was 
 leaning backward on the sofa, listening listlessly 
 to her agreeable observations. 
 
 She was somewhat above the ordinary height 
 of women, her profile strictly Grecian, her figure 
 perfect symmetry, her eyes full of expression, 
 her manners full of grace and elegance. There 
 was a look of talent in her countenance ; and 
 lighted up as it was by the animated conversa- 
 tion in which she was engaged with Fitzmaurice, 
 it beamed upon James as something of another 
 world. It must be owned that the effect of con- 
 trast, as Grace sat opposite to her, was more 
 striking than satisfactory to our young lover. 
 
 This was Emma, — the elder lady's daughter. 
 
 " Sutherland, 1 ' said Mr. Lazenby familiarly 
 and with a patronizing air, leading him to the 
 sparkling matron, " This is my sister, Mrs. 
 Fisherton, — This, Anne," continued he, " is Mr, 
 Sutherland." 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 81 
 
 Mrs. Fisherton bowed her head courteously, 
 and the diamonds glittered in her ears, and the 
 plumes waved over her head. 
 
 The name of Sutherland caught the ears of 
 Emma ; and as James was undergoing the awful 
 ceremony of introduction to the dowager, the 
 lovely girl turned herself round, and hastily sur- 
 veying him turned back again towards Fitzmau- 
 rice and said something, the purport of which 
 nobody except the Colonel heard — his exclama- 
 tion of " Capital !" however, proclaimed that it 
 must have been of a somewhat piquante nature. 
 
 " Emma, 11 said Mr. Lazenby, " allow me to 
 present Mr. Sutherland to you." 
 
 Emma, suddenly recovering from the languid 
 lounge in which she had been indulging, and 
 drawing her fine features into a freezing state of 
 decorum, rose from her seat, and made Mr. Su- 
 therland a curtsey so profound and serious that 
 it entirely overcame the rustic swain, who, step- 
 ping backward to return her salutation with a 
 graceful bow, most wofully disturbed the eco- 
 nomy of a salver of Sevre coffee-cups, with 
 which a servant was approaching the Colonel. 
 The confusion arising from this little contretemps 
 was quite amusing to Emma, who had previously 
 e 5 
 
82 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 perceived what must inevitably happen, but 
 who was too well-bred to allow any possible 
 danger to interfere with the due performance of 
 the ceremony in which she was engaged. 
 
 The eclat produced by this momentary disas- 
 ter having a little subsided, James, who felt all 
 his fortitude unequal to any further progress in 
 an acquaintance with Miss Fisherton, seated 
 himself beside his Grace, and began, in an under- 
 tone, that sort of conversation in which he was 
 wont to indulge at " Belmont Establishment." 
 Made the most minute enquiries after his fair 
 one's health, and whether she had been troubled 
 with the tooth-ache lately, — asked when she had 
 heard from Mrs. Trainer, — wondered how her 
 favourite black cat was, and recalled to her recol- 
 lection some interesting incidents /vhich had oc- 
 curred at the Establishment, in which the said 
 cat and a spaniel of his own were principally 
 concerned. Grace, who was fully adequate to 
 this sort of colloquy, answered all his questions 
 with a calm precision and an amiable insensibi- 
 lity, which he, unaccustomed to the ways of the 
 world, attributed entirely to un sophistication 
 and amiability ; he was doomed, however, soon 
 to learn the difference which exists between the 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 83 
 
 style of conversation which his fair one adopted, 
 and that in which such girls as Emma Fisherton 
 are pleased occasionally to indulge. 
 
 " Emma, my dear," said Mrs. Fisherton, 
 " what were the names of those people we met 
 at dinner at Lord George^s on Tuesday ?" 
 
 " Whom do you mean, Ma ?" said Emma, 
 — " that hideous old woman with the horrid 
 daughters Y" 
 
 " I mean the girl you nick-named Medusa, ,, 
 said the venerable parent. 
 
 " Oh ! I quite forget what they call them- 
 selves, — the brother was exquisite ! — I never 
 saw such a person in my life ; he sat next me 
 at dinner, and kept pressing me to eat, as if I 
 should have said no if I meant yes ; — he asked 
 me to drink Mine, and when I had got a large 
 glass full of some dreadful Madeira, I think it 
 was called, he kept making enquiries every five 
 minutes why I did not finish it ? — and asked if 
 I did not like wine, and whether I would have 
 any other ?™ 
 
 " I think they were called Hogman," said 
 Mrs. Fisherton. 
 
 " Hogman was the name, my dear Ma," re- 
 plied Emma. " I wish you had been there," con- 
 
84 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 tinued the vivacious girl, turning to the Colonel, 
 " you would have died with laughing at the 
 whole party. I cannot imagine how dear Lady 
 George can allow Lord George to have such 
 people to the house. I asked the beau of the 
 family whether he was at Almack's last Wednes- 
 day ? — He said ' No, but that he was there on 
 Friday. 1 — ' Friday, 1 said I, s surely there was no 
 assembly that evening ?'— and what do you think 
 he answered? — ' Oh ! yes, Miss!!! there was 
 The Caledonian Assembly, for I was at it P " 
 
 A burst of laughter at the savage ignorance of 
 the unfortunate Mr. Hogman rang through the 
 saloon. 
 
 " I am sure,"" said Mrs. Fisherton, ** I really 
 thought I should have expired, as I told Lady 
 George the moment they were gone, with 
 watching the poor young man at dinner — the 
 agony he underwent in eating so as not to dis- 
 turb the economy of his dress! — do you know it 
 really seemed to me as if he had no tie in the 
 world he valued half so much as his neck- 
 cloth r 
 
 " And the quantity he ate P' rejoined Emma, 
 " it reminded me of the day aunt Jane took 
 me to an Easter dinner at the Mansion-house, 
 somewhere in the city P 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 85 
 
 " What were the girls like ?" enquired the 
 Honourable Colonel Fitzmaurice, without en- 
 tirely opening either his eyes or his mouth, and 
 without moving one muscle, or, as it seemed, 
 earing one straw whether his question was even 
 answered or not. 
 
 " Vulgar beyond measure !" said Emma, 
 " with very thick red elbows, and skin like 
 nutmeg-graters, dressed exactly after the prints 
 in the Ladies Magazine, and smelling horridly 
 of musk." 
 
 A general groan resounded. " Monsters V* 
 ejaculated the Colonel; and turning suddenly 
 round to James Sutherland, to whom he had 
 never thought proper previously to address one 
 syllable, said in a patronizing tone, " Mr. Su- 
 therland, are you fond of music ?" 
 
 The abruptness of the question startled 
 James, who, however, recovering from the sur- 
 prise of the moment, answered in the affirmative, 
 concluding that Grace was the object of attack, 
 and that the Colonel was anxious to draw her 
 out and exhibit her accomplishments on the 
 piano-forte. 
 
 " Miss Fisherton," said Fitzmaurice, " here is 
 a suppliant swain, — Mr. Sutherland is dying to 
 hear your harp. 1 ' 
 
86 
 
 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 Emma bowed with affected civility and evi- 
 dent disdain towards James, who felt ready to 
 sink through the floor, conscious that he had 
 said nothing about it, and that he would rather 
 have died than take the liberty of making such 
 a request. 
 
 " Upon my word," said she, addressing her- 
 self in reply entirely to the Colonel, " I would, 
 but Rossini tells me that I spoil his music by 
 embellishing it too much, — and I am quite cross 
 with him, and have vowed not to sing any 
 more." 
 
 " The man is unwarrantably discontented, as 
 I take it," said the Colonel, " and we defy him : 
 — Come, Miss Fisherton, — let me lead you to the 
 harp ?" 
 
 " No, no, we shall disturb the whist people, * 
 said Emma, who had, ten minutes before, made 
 up her mind to astonish James Sutherland with 
 her playing, and had already drawn off her 
 gloves for that express purpose. 
 
 " The whist people," said the Colonel, " will 
 never hear one note of it." 
 
 " Do you know," said Emma to the Colonel 
 in a half-whisper, as if making a flattering con- 
 fidence : " the only reason why I don't like my 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 87 
 
 uncle's arrangements here, is their always hav- 
 ing that doleful rubber !" 
 
 " Upon my honour, it is an extraordinary 
 propensity," said the Colonel. 
 
 " And they don't play shorts !" added Emma. 
 
 " Good Gad !* ejaculated Fitzmaurice. — 
 " Come then, if that is really the case, never 
 mind them. What does it signify !" 
 
 " You play, Grace," said Emma, kindly, to 
 her cousin, " don't you !" 
 
 " Oh ! very little indeed," answered the timid 
 unassuming Grace. 
 
 " Come, come," continued the Colonel, coax- 
 ingly and winningly ; at the same time gently 
 pressing the fair creature towards the instru- 
 ment, and seeming to think that any thing like 
 courtesy or attention to the young lady of the 
 house was quite superfluous — " Come, come," 
 and so saying continuously, with different into- 
 nations, he gently forced her, (" nothing loth," 
 it must be owned,) towards the harp. 
 
 Emma, after this pretty, interesting display 
 of reluctance, proceeded to her pedestal, and ra- 
 pidly striking a few chords, in a manner calcu- 
 lated to give the impression of her being a first- 
 rate performer, she began, first to discover that 
 
88 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 her fingers were cold, then that the harp was 
 dreadfully out of tune, then that it was a dread- 
 ful harp, then that she had no music, and then 
 again that she should disturb the card-players ; 
 till, after a certain quantity of pressing and en- 
 treating, she at length began an air and variations, 
 which she executed with the most surprising and 
 tormenting brilliancy. The sound of the instru- 
 ment brought back Mrs. Chatterton, who had re- 
 tired to watch the whist, in order to give the 
 two pair of lovers fair time and opportunity 
 to carry on their little flirtations, — a favour 
 which James, who was chiefly employed in 
 watching Miss Fisherton, did not appear either 
 duly to appreciate, or properly to avail himself 
 of. Emma, however, grew enthusiastic : she 
 played and played incessantly, with the Colonel 
 languishing on one side of her and Mrs. Chat- 
 terton on the other, until past midnight, when 
 her mother's carriage was announced. 
 
 Mrs. Chatterton could not avoid noticing the 
 reserve of James and Grace, who hardly ex- 
 changed a syllable during this lengthened exhi- 
 bition, Grace having nothing particular to say; 
 and James being sufficiently ignorant of the 
 ways of the world to imagine it necessary to 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 89 
 
 keep silence during a musical performance, 
 whereas in fact, as every body knows, the first 
 chord of a young lady's harp is the established 
 and recognised signal for the commencement of 
 general conversation. 
 
 The cloying kindness of these amateur exhi- 
 bitors is actually overcoming ; for when once 
 the first painful ceremony of solicitation is over, 
 once the " premier pas" taken, (and ce n'est que 
 le premier pas qui coiiie") their liberality is un- 
 bounded, and whole books full of charming 
 morceaux are gone through with a persevering 
 assiduity, which nothing but the happy an- 
 nouncement of carriages, or the absolute defec- 
 tion of the majority of the party can possibly 
 put a stop to. 
 
 James, at the conclusion of Miss Fisherton's 
 performance, thought it but right to declare that 
 he had never heard any thing so delightful in the 
 whole course of his life ; Grace protested that 
 it was perfection. Mrs. Chatterton exclaimed, 
 and the Colonel vowed, and every body thought 
 the matter ended ; — but they were deceived ; for 
 the rubber being concluded, Mr. Lazenby beg- 
 ged Emma to give him only three things, the 
 Persian Air, the Palanquin-bearer's Song, and 
 
90 THE SUTHEltLANDS. 
 
 the Nautch dance, which he had got at Futty- 
 ghur, all of which were duly performed, to the 
 infinite delight of Messrs. Curry and Rice, 
 whose juvenility seemed to return at the sound 
 of the discordant jingling which fell upon their 
 ears ; and innumerable jokes and allusions 
 (which fortunately were wholly unintelligible to 
 the profane) passed between the trio of retired 
 nabobs. 
 
 At length the moment of separation came ; 
 carriages were called up, and the ladies retired. 
 Mr. Lazenby beckoned James aside, and 
 begged to see him at one the next day, adding 
 that he had no doubt that the ladies would en- 
 list him under their banners for the rest of the 
 morning. The Rajah also invited him specially 
 to dinner. James, quite delighted with these in- 
 dubitable proofs of the Burrah Saab's good opi- 
 nion and kind intentions towards him, took 
 leave, and on his departure, fancied that he 
 extorted something like a smile of approbation 
 from Miss Lazenby : he took her little cold 
 hand, as usual, within his own, and pressed it — 
 in vain — it dropped from his grasp as if it had 
 been lifeless, and he quitted the house with 
 all Emma's beauties dancing before his eyes, 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 91 
 
 thinking, charming as she actually was, how 
 much more agreeable Grace would be if she 
 were but a little more animated. 
 
 Such dreams James enjoyed ; such congenial 
 visions flitted before him in his slumbers ; such 
 reflections cheered his waking moments, as are 
 indescribable : the splendour and magnificence 
 of style in which his father-in-law lived; the 
 prospect not only of participating in all the 
 luxuries of his establishment, and all the gaieties 
 of his parties during his life-time, but of ac- 
 tually and entirely possessing the wealth, and 
 the enjoyments which wealth produces, after the 
 old gentleman's retirement to another and a 
 better world ; the calculations which he lay 
 making as to the most economical mode of keep- 
 ing up a great appearance ; the resolutions he 
 formed as to what sum he should receive down 
 by way of portion ; the consideration where he 
 should fix his residence ; the manner in which 
 he should behave towards his brother, under 
 the circumstances of his unfortunate connexion 
 with the Busbridges, of whose family, he had 
 not the slightest doubt, Colonel Fitzmaurice's 
 rascally valet was actually a worthy member ; 
 what number of servants he should keep ; 
 
92 THE SUTHERLAXDS. 
 
 what horses, what carriages : — all these mo- 
 mentous concerns kept his mind in active em- 
 ployment ; and it was not till near eleven that 
 he found himself at breakfast in the New Hum- 
 mums coffee-room. 
 
 The post arrived, and brought letters from 
 Bath and from Ringsworth. That from his 
 sister was full of tender solicitude about him, 
 and of apprehension as to George's comfort. 
 The dreadful absence of all intellectual wealth, 
 Jane thought, would of itself blight the bright 
 prospect of happiness ; but the actual substi- 
 tution of sensuality for sentiment, — evident 
 signs of which had displayed themselves in 
 Mrs. George's Sutherland's conduct and cha- 
 racter during the stay of her mother-in-law 
 and Jane at Ringsworth, — must, as the anxious 
 girl was convinced, produce certain misery. The 
 old lady and her daughter, however, were in 
 good health, and most anxious to hear more of 
 James, and, through him, of George ; for the 
 head of the house was but an indifferent cor- 
 respondent, and held letter-writing, when the 
 writer had nothing to say, a work of super- 
 erogation. 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 93 
 
 That being the avowed principle of Mr. 
 George Sutherland, James was assured, when 
 he saw a letter from his brother, that something 
 actually had happened, which he considered of 
 importance ; and all the apprehension he felt 
 in breaking the seal of the despatch from Rings- 
 worth was, that some event had occurred in the 
 menage which might possibly interfere with his 
 own views and prospects. But, as he read the 
 following description of his brother's unhap- 
 piness, and ascertained that his distress did not 
 immediately affect his own interests, he became 
 gradually relieved from his needless perturbation 
 and groundless apprehensions. The letter ran 
 as follows : 
 
 << Ringsworth, June 8th. 
 
 " Dear James, — To be laughed at when 
 one means to be serious is, perhaps, one of the 
 most painful things in the world. I seldom 
 have tried to put on grave airs or sad looks ; 
 but whenever I have made the attempt I have 
 generally failed. At this very moment I ho- 
 nestly declare to you that I am suffering deeply 
 and bitterly ; and yet I am sure, when you read 
 
94 THE SUTHER LANDS. 
 
 the detail of my distresses, you will laugh 
 at me, and say — truly enough — that I have 
 brought them all upon myself. 
 
 " If I had attended to the counsel of a younger 
 brother — younger in years, but much my senior 
 in wisdom — I should now have been, as you, I 
 trust, will shortly be, — happy, and comfortably 
 and respectably established in the world, — but 
 I have ever been the giddy, foolish, hare-brained 
 fellow you used to call me. Why, why, my 
 dear James, did not you go with me to that in- 
 fernal watering-place ? had you been at my 
 elbow, I am sure I should have been spared all 
 this." 
 
 Very true, thought James; but then, per- 
 haps, I should have lost Grace Lazenby by 
 the trip ; and so he philosophically satisfied 
 himself with the prudence of his conduct, 
 which, in all probability, had been the cause 
 of his brother's ruin. He sipped his tea, 
 buttered a new square of toast, ate a bit, and 
 recommenced reading. 
 
 " In the first place, dear James, Emily's 
 father has written to me, recounting all the cir- 
 cumstances of that abominable affair at Liver- 
 pool, informing me that he is at Lancaster 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 95 
 
 tread-mill, living upon oatmeal porridge, and 
 a quarter of a pound of cheese weekly ; that his 
 Sunday's dinner is half a pound of boiled beef ; 
 and that he has to mount thirty-eight times the 
 height of the Monument daily. The favour 
 he asks is, that I will make interest to get him 
 speedily transported, according to his sentence. 
 Only consider, my dear James, the head of the 
 Sutherlands of Ringsworth making interest 
 with Mr. Peel to get his father-in-law trans- 
 ported by way of a personal favour ! What 
 am I to do ? — It is a question I cannot myself 
 answer ; but these foreign difficulties, as I con- 
 sider them, are inferior, in point of personal 
 inconvenience, to the disarrangements of my 
 domestic affairs. The Major and the Lieu- 
 tenant were so extremely careless in their con- 
 duct towards my wife's sisters, that the maid- 
 servants would not stay in the family ; poor 
 old Winter the' housekeeper has actually left 
 me ; and even this, my dear James, is not all 
 — poor Carr, my father's faithful Carr, my ex- 
 cellent Carr, is dead — the late hours and bus- 
 tle brought on a fever, and he is at this moment 
 lying on the bed he had for fifty-two years 
 occupied in this house, a corpse. 
 
96 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " All this has occurred in the course of the 
 few days since your departure ; which, I verily 
 believe, brought things to a crisis, for certainly 
 the girls stood more in awe of you than of any 
 body else. I have been forced to beg them to 
 leave us, and they are gone with their friends, 
 the Major and the Lieutenant, on a tour. The 
 thing, my dear James, is too glaring to be 
 concealed; and however much I may dislike 
 completely c knocking under* to my younger 
 brother, I am obliged to admit my folly and 
 indiscretion, and apply to you for advice in my 
 present very delicate circumstances. 
 
 " Emily herself I have no fault to find with : 
 she is good-natured, and has acceded to my 
 wish, that she should part with her maid Tra- 
 cey, whose connexion with her I thought a 
 sufficient reason for her removal. I have set- 
 tled eighty pounds a-year upon her, and I made 
 the two girls presents of two hundred pounds 
 each at Emily's solicitation, and, indeed, as a 
 sort of bribe to get rid of them ; for their con- 
 duct was unbearable, particularly for the last 
 two days. I lost about seventy guineas to the 
 Major at billiards, and about twice as much to 
 the Lieutenant at ecarte, but I have no sus- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 97 
 
 picion of unfairness : indeed, if I had, I should 
 submit ; for my only chance is to keep the nu- 
 merous branches of Emily's family in good hu- 
 mour, and prevent any explosion. My present 
 intention, if I can prevail upon her to agree to 
 it, is to visit the Continent, and remain abroad 
 for some time. I hate France, and detest Italy, 
 but I think any place better than the neigh- 
 bourhood where I am known ; for so much has 
 transpired through the gossiping of servants, 
 that none of our friends will visit us ; and I could 
 not endure the coldness with which they re- 
 turned my wife's acknowledgments after church, 
 so that my invariable rule of attending Divine 
 service has, for the last three weeks, been 
 broken through, and the benefit of a good ex- 
 ample lost to my tenants : — but what is to be 
 done ? 
 
 " I have been thinking that, were we to go 
 abroad, you, perhaps, would like to occupy 
 Ringsworth ; if so, my dear James, it is quite 
 at your service. Should it be agreeable to 
 you, instead of letting it, (as I at one time in- 
 tended,) and removing or selling the furniture, 
 &c. it shall be entirely at your service, for 
 whatever time you may choose to occupy it, 
 
 VOL, I. F 
 
98 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 and I shall leave the library, the cellar, and 
 the stable, furnished for your use : tell me if 
 they will be acceptable, and whether you ap- 
 prove of my Continental scheme. I own it has 
 very much the air of a break-up, but the mis- 
 fortune is entirely of my own seeking, and I 
 shall, at all events, feel happier, if you oc- 
 cupy the old house than a stranger, and your 
 fortune (if you marry Miss Lazenby,) will fully 
 justify your doing so. Turn these things in 
 your mind, and then write to me at your first 
 leisure moment ; and believe me, 
 
 My dear James, always 
 Your affectionate Brother, 
 
 George Sutherland." 
 " P. S. — I have had good accounts from 
 Bath so late as the 5th." 
 
 " The Continental plan," said James to him- 
 self, as he folded up the letter, " is an excellent 
 plan. In the first place it will leave me Rings- 
 worth,. — and Rings worth is the very sort of thing 
 I wanted ; and the horses, and the wines, and 
 the books, are so many additional agremens 
 which I could not expect to find anywhere 
 
THE SUTHEItLANDS. 99 
 
 else ; and then, besides, my brother's absence 
 from England will secure me from any of the 
 importunities of his wife's relations, and all 
 difficulty about the introduction of Grace to 
 the set will be got over." 
 
 James, in the midst of these pleasing calcula- 
 tions, however, lamented the unnecessary gift of 
 two hundred pounds to the girls, and regretted 
 the death of Carr, particularly just at this junc- 
 ture ; because, beyond the natural affection 
 which he bore him, he knew that he was ac- 
 counted a very prudent and careful servant, and 
 had not during forty years raised his wages* 
 which James felt inclined to believe were infi- 
 nitely more moderate than those demanded by 
 the ordinary run of butlers of the present day. 
 
 James resolved, therefore, upon counselling 
 his brother speedily to put into execution his 
 design of travelling, and had hardly finished his 
 breakfast before he wrote his acknowledgments 
 for the offer of Ringsworth, and his acceptance 
 of it : having prepared which for the post, he 
 proceeded by appointment to Portland Place, 
 where he hoped the exemplary tenant of the 
 mansion would come to something like business; 
 although, it must be confessed, his own expressed 
 f2 
 
100 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 desire of seeing a little of James before he de- 
 cided, somewhat lessened the hope of any thing 
 conclusive in the present stage of the acquaint* 
 ance. 
 
 Mr. Lazenby, however, received Sutherland 
 with much warmth and cordiality — told him 
 that his old friends Curry and Rice were quite 
 pleased with the sentiments which in the course 
 of the day he had expressed ; that he was him- 
 self obliged again to leave town ; that the place 
 of his destination was Cheltenham; that he 
 should return in a few days : and in the mean 
 time begged James to consider Portland-place 
 his pied a terre ; recommended his removal from 
 the Hummums to some hotel in that neighbour- 
 hood, and threw out that, except a sleeping- 
 room, every accommodation would be afforded 
 him in his house ; and that, in short, under the 
 tutelage of Mrs. Chatterton, Grace was to be 
 placed in his charge. 
 
 " At the end of the week," added the indul- 
 gent father, " I shall return ; and then, Mr. 
 Sutherland, I hope we shall make such arrange- 
 ments as may be satisfactory to all parties." 
 
 Saying which, after squeezing his hand in the 
 most cordial manner, he led him up-stairs, 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 101 
 
 where, in the back drawing-room, tiffin was 
 prepared, consisting of a variety of European 
 and Asiatic dishes, every thing warm to excess 
 except Miss Lazenby herself, who looked as 
 prim and as demure as ever. Her light hair 
 formally parted over her forehead, her little frill 
 as regularly plaited as if it had been marble, 
 her cold pink hands, and her cold pale cheeks, 
 and her slate-coloured gown, and her lead-co- 
 loured boots, and her russet sash, — what with 
 their chilliness and their preciseness, gave her 
 the appearance of an iced milliner : however, to 
 James's eye she seemed all sense and sensibility, 
 for he loved the diffident divinity whose silence 
 is eloquence, and whose timidity is conquest. 
 
 " Grace, my dear," said the Nabob, " the 
 carriage is at the door, and therefore, under 
 the awful sanction of Mrs. Chatterton, I resign 
 you to the special guardianship of Mr. Suther- 
 land." 
 
 Any other girl would have blushed up to the 
 eyes at such a speech ; instead of which Grace 
 smiled just sufficiently to show the lower half 
 of her upper teeth, and inclined her head slan- 
 tingly, — said nothing, and looked another way. 
 
 " There is the box at the Opera for 
 
102 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 Saturday, Mrs. Chatterton," said Mr. Lazenby, 
 " and Mr. Rice's pew at the New Mary la- 
 bonne church on Sunday. I leave Evans and 
 the barouche ; so that you will find all arrange- 
 ments made. And as for you, Mr. Sutherland, 
 you have nothing to do but to direct my esta- 
 blishment — they have their orders to obey your 
 commands. 1 ' 
 
 Overwhelmed with the kindness of the white 
 Rajah, James hardly knew how to express his 
 acknowledgments; and before he could suffi- 
 ciently collect himself to make a speech, his 
 magnificent father-in-law had tenderly em- 
 braced Grace, after which shaking hands, with 
 Mrs. Chatterton and the intended husband of 
 his child, he descended the staircase on his way 
 to Cheltenham. 
 
 To attempt to describe James's sensations 
 when he recovered from his surprise and rap- 
 ture, and found himself actually acting-grand- 
 master of the mansion in Portland-place, is far 
 beyond my feeble powers. The only drawback 
 in his mind (and it flashed across it immediate- 
 ly,) was the necessity, which he apprehended 
 he should be under, of tipping the servants; 
 however lie calculated that it would not be 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. lOtf 
 
 essential to do so in the outset, and that, at all 
 events, his other expenses would be so cur- 
 tailed by his residence at his father-in-law's, as to 
 make a pretty fair show on the credit side of his 
 imaginary account. 
 
 His gratitude, however, to Mrs. Trainer was 
 strong ; he felt that to her recommendatory let- 
 ter more was owing than to any thing else, and 
 as he wished at once to write to her to thank 
 her for the progress he had made in his matri- 
 monial campaign, he took the opportunity of 
 inclosing a note to his servant, begging her to 
 allow her boy to step with it to Ringsworth- 
 house, thereby saving the amount of postage, 
 which his man would naturally have charged 
 
 him; and thus economicallv convevinr? hi* 
 
 ^ .j — — 
 
 commands to the said man to come up to town 
 — a measure of which he now saw the utility, 
 inasmuch as the domestic would of course fol- 
 low the example of his master, and quarter 
 himself in the servants' hall of that house, 
 whose first table was under the immediate di- 
 rection of his immediate superior. 
 
 It would be matter of no amusement to the 
 worldly reader to narrate how James carried on 
 the war during the few days in which his father- 
 
104 THE SUTHEELANDS. 
 
 in-law was absent, nor to detail how he mounted 
 the snowy stairs of the Opera House, escorting 
 the lively widow and the pallid virgin to their 
 box on the first circle, or how he squeezed 
 through the room and bustled down to the hall 
 to call up Miss Lazenby's carriage ; it would 
 not add to the entertainment of my readers to 
 depict the devoted lover in the pew of our 
 wealthy and yellow friend Mr. Rice at the new 
 church of Saint Marylabonne, to which building, 
 by the way, the double gallery gives very much 
 the air of a theatre, (an appearance not a little 
 increased by the tawdry dresses of its visitants,) 
 and in which the closets of the select few re- 
 semble private boxes, rather than the modest 
 seclusions of a place of worship. These ex- 
 traordinary features, added to the peep-hole ex- 
 hibition of a trumpery transparency through the 
 body of the organ, produce an effect in the tout 
 ensemble as little calculated to inspire devotion, 
 as the exhibition of a magic lantern in another 
 place to the tones of a similar instrument on a 
 smaller scale. Suffice it to say, that time flew 
 with that proverbial rapidity so ill suited to his 
 age, that James^ servant arrived in town as di- 
 rected, and took his post exactly where it was 
 
THE SUTHER LANDS. 105 
 
 intended that he should take it ; that James him- 
 self discovered a sort of hotel in Portland-street 
 which fully answered the purpose of a sleeping- 
 place, and that on the Thursday following his 
 departure the illustrious Bengalee, Alexander 
 Lazenby, Esq. returned to his daughter and his 
 domicile in London. 
 
 . The evening after his arrival was indeed a 
 momentous one : Lazenby and James were tete a 
 ttte? the claret full-bodied , and high in fla- 
 vour, the conversation continued agreeable and 
 vivacious ; till at length Mr. Alexander Lazenby 
 turned the course of the colloquy to something 
 like matters of business. 
 
 " Weiy said he, "James,"— he called him 
 James, and the change of style was not lost upon 
 Sutherland, — " And how have you made it out 
 during my absence !" 
 
 " As well as we could, Sir, without you." 
 " Sutherland," said Lazenby, " I think after 
 observing the line of conduct which I have 
 adopted, you can have but little doubt of my in 
 tentions. I have made such enquiries with re- 
 spect to you as have proved highly satisfactory : 
 I have seen such conduct as is to me particularly 
 gratifying. I most gladly anticipate your wishes, 
 f5 
 
106 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 and those of my poor little Grace, by saying that 
 I fully and entirely approve of that which I know 
 it is your mutual desire I should sanction." 
 
 James drew his handkerchief from his pocket, 
 and covered his face — the Nabob thought, to hide 
 the feelings of rapture at receiving such a prize as 
 his daughter : — such indeed were the feelings of 
 her youthful lover, but they were, alas ! excited 
 rather by the consciousness of her immense 
 wealth, than by any sentiment of devotion to 
 her person. 
 
 " Come, Sutherland, come," continued her fa- 
 ther, " be a man, — take your wine,— help your- 
 self, — come, come," — and the old gentleman rose 
 and stood before the fireplace, and patted his 
 future son-in-law on the shoulder encouragingly. 
 " Sir," sobbed out James, " I cannot speak, " 
 — and he seized his hand, and pressed it fer- 
 vently. 
 
 " Take some wine, Sutherland," continued 
 the Nabob, who was a staunch advocate for the 
 juice of the grape; to his singular and unvarying 
 patronage of which, might, I believe, be attri- 
 buted the healthful contrast his appearance af- 
 forded to the general run of dry-skinned, lac- 
 
THE SUTHERLAND a. 107 
 
 laden, miserable, mortals, annually imported 
 from the same region. 
 
 " It is necessary we should talk a little ra- 
 tionally/' added Lazenby, " for, my dear friend, 
 however romantic love may be at your time of 
 life, there must be the qiwifaire, the materiel — 
 Now with respect to Grace's fortune " 
 
 At this moment James recovered his self-pos- 
 session in a most miraculous manner, and wiping 
 his eyes, said : — 
 
 " Yes, Sir ?" — interrogatively. 
 
 " With respect to her fortune, I shall candidly 
 tell you what I propose to do : — in the first 
 place" 
 
 Here a thundering knock at the hall door an- 
 nounced a new arrival. 
 
 " I propose," continued Mr. Lazenby, " to 
 settle a regular sum upon Grace, which of 
 course will bear a due proportion to — 
 
 "Mr. Rice, Sir," exclaimed a servant, 
 throwing open the door of the dinner-parlour, 
 and ushering in the yellow shade of the returned 
 Nabob. 
 
 " My dear Rice, how are you ?" said La- 
 zenby : " I am delighted to see you." 
 
108 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " The deuce take him !" thought James, "just 
 at this moment — this important, interesting, mo- 
 ment—" 
 
 " Lazenby," said Rice, " I am glad to find 
 you back : I called in at Lloyd's, in Harley- 
 street, and heard from Sir Christopher Coddle^ 
 whom I left there just now reading yesterday's 
 newspapers, that you were arrived in town; 
 so I determined to call and see whether you 
 wanted one for your rubber." 
 
 And thus was abruptly terminated the most 
 delicate and momentous conversation in which 
 James had ever participated. 
 
 The coffee, the chasse, the whist, (in which 
 he was compelled to join,) the Indian anecdotes, 
 the merriment of Mrs Chatterton, the placid 
 amiability of Miss Lazenby y were alike sicklied 
 o'er with the pale hue of indifference, and were 
 equally uninteresting to poor Sutherland : the 
 Fates had cut the thread of a discourse as 
 important to him as life itself, and much more 
 so than love ; and when he was pronounced at 
 twelve o'clock a loser of four guineas by the 
 game, his feelings towards the haggard Croesus 
 whose partner he had been, and in an associa- 
 tion with whom, he had thus been despoiled of 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 109 
 
 his property, were almost too strong for endu- 
 rance. However, the bright ray of hope was 
 rekindled when he was again summoned to the 
 council for the following day, and when Mr. La- 
 zenby added that Mr. Casay, his attorney, 
 would dine with them, and a clear expose of af- 
 fairs would be laid before them : — this solaced 
 all his sorrows, this compensated for all his 
 losses, — and his slumbers at the hotel were only 
 disturbed by dreams of wealth and happiness. 
 
 In the morning James wrote a long letter to 
 George, thanking him for his offer of Rings- 
 worth, explaining all his movements, and in- 
 forming him that he intended in the first uv 
 stance, as soon as he was married, to proceed to 
 Bath, where in the society of his mother and 
 sister, after a due and decent seclusion from the 
 world, he and his amiable bride might enjoy that 
 calm and rational felicity which he anticipated 
 from an union with so mild and gentle a help- 
 mate ; and that, at the expiration of that period, 
 if convenient, he would retire to Ringsworth. 
 
 In addition to this, James wrote to his friend 
 Mrs. Trainer, and was, for once, animated by a 
 feeling inexplicable even to himself: it originated 
 certainly in gratitude, but it was gratitude for 
 
110 THE SUTHERLAND?. 
 
 gratification, it was a feeling bottomed upon an 
 anxiety at once to secure and soothe a friend ; 
 and now certain of his prize by her agency, he 
 felt it honourable and right, without a refresher, 
 to fulfil his engagement to his ancient and dis- 
 creet ally. Folding, therefore, into an envelope, 
 with infinite care, the bond which she had given 
 him for the advanced fifteen hundred pounds, 
 from which he had previously torn her signature, 
 he wrote a few lines cautiously worded so as not 
 to betray the original intention of lending, and 
 the present motive for giving the old gentlewo- 
 man a sum so important to his happiness. He 
 despatched his pacquet to " Belmont Establish- 
 ment," and proceeded to the family dinner of 
 his father-in-law at Portland Place. 
 
 Now indeed was the crisis of his fate at hand, 
 every thing smiled: even Grace herself looked 
 more than half-alive : the servants by their 
 pointed civilities, their zealous activity in open- 
 ing and shutting, announcing and ushering in, 
 declared the joyous moment at hand, when, as 
 second in command of the establishment, he 
 should reign and rule without control. 
 
 Mr. Casay, punctual to time, made his ap- 
 pearance : Mr. Lazenby accompanied him to the 
 
THE SUTHEllLANDS. HI 
 
 drawing-room, and again did James support his 
 beloved to the banquet. Mr. Lazenby appeared 
 in excellent spirits, Mrs. Chatterton was all 
 smiles and sparkle, and the solicitor as cautious 
 and complimentary as a lawyer could be. 
 
 Every moment seemed an age to James till 
 the ladies motioned to retire ; for such was the 
 character of his affection for Grace, that he could 
 endure the anxiety of absence better than the 
 suspense with which he was tortured as to the 
 sum total of her worldly endowments. 
 
 The fair ones gone, the door closed, James 
 felt the renewal of those apprehensive palpita- 
 tions which the interrupted conversation of the 
 preceding evening had previously excited. 
 
 " Ring the bell," said Lazenby to Casay. 
 
 His order was obeyed, as almost instantly was 
 the summons. 
 
 " If any body calls this evening," said La- 
 zenby to the butler, " desire that they may be 
 shewn into the drawing-room. I shall be busy.* 
 
 The butler bowed, and retired. 
 
 "Help yourself, Sutherland :— Casay, some 
 wine."" 
 
 The glasses were filled. 
 
1 lJi THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 " Did you look over that paper, Casay ?" 
 isked the master of the house. 
 
 " I did, Sir," replied the Lawyer, " and it 
 seems to me that it may either be done on the 
 Devonshire or the Worcestershire property ; 
 just as you like." 
 
 M Did you enquire about the Trunk shares ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, there is the paper," said the 
 Lawyer, handing a document to Lazenby. 
 
 " I do not apologize, Sutherland," said the 
 urbane Nabob, " for talking on business before 
 you, because, in point of fact, you are chiefly 
 concerned in it." 
 
 James bowed, and looked uncommonly 
 sheepish. 
 
 " Ah !" said Lazenby, having carefully per- 
 used the paper : " that might do, but I think 
 the security upon those . small bonds just as 
 good." 
 
 i; Oh, quite !" said the Lawyer. 
 
 " At all events there can be no difficulty," 
 observed Lazenby. 
 
 " No, Sir," said Casay, " I should think not ;" 
 — and they both laughed most archly and agree- 
 ably. 
 
 u Mr. Sutherland," said Lazenby, " Mr. 
 
THE SUTHERLAXDS. I V3 
 
 Casay is my right hand, my privy-councillor and 
 adviser, — indeed I hardly know what I should 
 do without him :" — Casay bowed : — " we may 
 therefore, indeed ?nust be explicit and candid 
 with him: — he is fully aware of the proposed 
 ratification of the engagement between my little 
 Grace and yourself. , ' > 
 
 James bowed. 
 
 " I have had a long and serious conversa- 
 tion with her upon the subject; and as you 
 have already plainly expressed your wishes, 
 I can have no difficulty in giving my con- 
 sent." 
 
 " Sir, you do me honour; your kindness,"' 
 said James, " is " 
 
 " Justir^ — Justice my dcsr Mr; •Sutherland ; 
 I say, and always have said, as my excellent 
 friend Casay here knows, let marriages be of 
 hearts, and not of hands alone. Grace is a 
 very good and discreet girl, apparently of a 
 sweet disposition, and she has made her elec- 
 tion. She is quite old enough to judge for 
 herself, and God knows there is no reason why 
 she should be thwarted; so fill your glass, 
 Casay, and we will drink happiness to the 
 young couple." 
 
114 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 This ceremony having been fully and duly 
 performed, James thought it absolutely ne- 
 cessary to eulogise his intended prize, to make 
 the most unqualified avowals of his affection and 
 esteem, and to predict that in the possession of 
 her, he should enjoy the greatest possible bless- 
 ing this world could bestow. 
 
 A thundering knock at the hall-door an- 
 nounced one of those evening arrivals so fre- 
 quent in the family ; the visitor, however, pass- 
 ed up-stairs. 
 
 " Sutherland," said Mr. Lazenby, " I have 
 never yet — for with me, I do assure you, it 
 is not the primary object — enquired as to the 
 extent of your patrimony." 
 
 *rx.a a ^uunger DrOtlleT, Sir," saia aaiucsj 
 " I have, I fear, but little to offer in the way 
 of wealth ; but as candour is indispensable 
 upon such occasions as these, I think it my 
 duty to say, that four hundred pounds per 
 annum in the present state of affairs is the 
 maximum of my income. I have recently di- 
 minished my stock of funded property, and I 
 believe I can call scarcely more than two thou- 
 sand pounds my own as capital." 
 
 No surprise, no anger, no disappointment 
 manifested itself in the countenance of La- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 115 
 
 zenby at this declaration of James's very small 
 fortune ; on the contrary, he turned to Casay 
 and observed that it was very suitable ; to which 
 Casay assented. 
 
 Another thundering knock announced ano- 
 ther arrival. 
 
 " Mr. Sutherland," said Lazenby, " Mr. Ca- 
 say and myself have been considering the best 
 means of settling upon Grace an adequate 
 income proportionate to that which you possess ; 
 and your recent declaration puts us quite at 
 our ease. I have made an arrangement to 
 allow her three hundred pounds per annum 
 for her life ; and you will, I am sure, permit me, 
 without feeling offended, to throw in five hun- 
 dred just to make up her corbeille da ma- 
 nage" 
 
 James bowed, and thought he misunderstood 
 all that had passed. 
 
 " Justice to my family,'' continued Lazen- 
 by, " will not allow me to do more for the 
 poor child. Emma Fisher ton, whom you see 
 here generally, and her mother, will, of course, 
 inherit all my property when I retire from the 
 world ; for although I really feel a father's af- 
 fection for Grace, yet, as she is a natural child, 
 
116 THE SUTHERLAND. 
 
 I think I should not be warranted in taking 
 from my sister's family more than that which I 
 now propose." 
 
 A third tremendous peal at the door afforded 
 James a favourable opportunity of starting 
 back at the instant, which movement was in 
 fact produced by the killing annunciation of the 
 nature of Miss Lazenby's relationship to the 
 Nabob, and the consequent insignificance of her 
 fortune,— a circumstance which had never, by 
 the remotest chance, entered into his calcula- 
 tions. 
 
 Lazenby was sufficiently a man of the world 
 to perceive in a moment the electric effect 
 which his unwelcome communication had upon 
 his hearer ; but, resolved to conclude his bar- 
 gain, he continued : " Your repeated expres- 
 sions of attachment to Grace, my dear Suther- 
 land, have convinced me of the pure and dis- 
 interested nature of your attachment ; and 
 should you pursue your intention of taking 
 orders, I think, as a clergyman's wife, my lit- 
 tle girl will be invaluable to you." 
 
 James endeavoured to utter something lau- 
 datory of her virtue and mildness, and other 
 excellent qualities ; but he faltered and stam- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 117 
 
 mered, till Lazenby, wishing to misunderstand 
 the feelings he had excited, much after the 
 fashion of the man who declared that he never 
 gave less, when the butler earnestly represented 
 that he had tipped him a shilling instead of a 
 sovereign, continued to eulogize his natural 
 daughter, and commend his own liberality, till 
 at length James did get out something like an 
 expression of dissent and disappointment as to 
 the proposed annuity for his beloved. 
 
 He was apprehensive that there would be a 
 difficulty in " making it out " upon so small an 
 income : his object was any thing rather than pe- 
 cuniary advantage in the match ; but still he did 
 not feel justified in exposing a young lady to 
 the inconvenience of a diminished establishment ; 
 and so on. All however in vain, — the Nabob 
 reiterated the catalogue of his daughter's good 
 qualities, the contentedness of her disposition, 
 and his perfect conviction that her happiness 
 was decided and secure. 
 
 In the midst of all the hurry and bustle of 
 this declaration of the real state of the con- 
 nexion, the servants announced coffee, and 
 moreover, that Lord Springfield was arrived, 
 which information brought the Nabob speedily 
 
118 THE SUTHEULAXDS. 
 
 from his seat, and, smacking James paternally 
 on the back, he led the way to the drawing- 
 room, saying joyously as he passed him, " To- 
 morrow, Sutherland, we sign and seal." 
 
 James bowed and smiled ; and the next mo- 
 ment recollected the cancelled bond of Mrs. 
 Trainer, the bribe of fifteen hundred pounds 
 which he had given to be introduced into a fa- 
 mily, in order to make a connexion with the na- 
 tural daughter of a Nabob, possessed of a life- 
 interest in three hundred pounds per annum. 
 The Lawyer, like his client, was too much of an 
 adept to be deceived as to the nature of Suther- 
 land's real feelings, and was even on the point of 
 making an enquiry whether Mr. Sutherland had 
 not all along known that Grace was illegitimate, 
 when prudence checked him, and he changed his 
 intended address with a renewed observation 
 about coffee and the ladies. 
 
 When they reached the drawing-room, James's 
 eyes sought those of Grace, concluding that she 
 was aware of the nature of the conversation 
 which had been passing in the dinner-parlour, 
 and expecting a show of interesting confusion in 
 her countenance ; but no, — there she sat, looking 
 
THE SUTHEIiLANDS. 119 
 
 with the most composed placidity at a snuff-box 
 belonging to one of the Nabobs, in the top of 
 which was some curious oriental stone, to the 
 natural history of which, detailed to her by its 
 venerable owner, she appeared to be listening 
 with the most unmixed attention. 
 
 Different indeed to this still-life exhibition 
 was that of the animated Miss Fisherton, who 
 was seated at her eternal harp, surrounded by 
 beaux, each proffering his aid in some small 
 particular : with them, she sat the little deity of 
 the drawing-room, joking, and laughing at jokes, 
 and criticising poets, painters, and singers, lend- 
 ing her willing ear to welcome bits of scandal, 
 and dealing out satirical remarks with sufficient 
 grace to make her auditors believe that they, 
 when absent, did not furnish their sparkling 
 oracle with subjects for the amusement of others. 
 
 Lord Springfield and the Nabob were in ear- 
 nest conversation in a distant corner of the 
 room ; and this circumstance, added to the firm- 
 ness with which the Honourable Colonel, his 
 Lordship's son and heir, maintained his post as 
 leaf-turner to the fascinating performer, led 
 James to believe that his, would not be the only 
 
120 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 wedding shortly to be celebrated in the family. 
 But how different were all his other feelings on 
 the subject from those which filled his breast 
 when he was last in the same room : he looked 
 around and saw what was going on, merely to be 
 mortified ; his wonted philosophy was not a little 
 discomposed when Casay, who, being by no 
 means calculated for the belle assemblee congre- 
 gated about Miss Fisherton, was left straggling 
 and insulated, sought James as a companion, 
 and made an observation upon the beauty of 
 that charming and accomplished young lady. 
 
 When the minute inspection of the snuff-box 
 by Grace had ended, its owner betook himself 
 to that quarter of the saloon where stood the 
 accustomed whist-table, leaving, as he felt it 
 correct to do, the place next the young lady va- 
 cant for its rightful owner. To take it was ine- 
 vitable, to avoid it impossible, — and James 
 seated himself by his betrothed, overwhelmed 
 with feelings which I fear I have not the power 
 to describe so as to convey an adequate idea of 
 their excessive unpleasantness. 
 
 He had taken the decided step, and he was 
 bound to marry the girl : he looked at her as he 
 sat down, and thought, — not as he had hereto- 
 
THE SUTHEKLANDS. 121 
 
 fore thought, that her countenance, though 
 plainish, was full of expression, or that her eyes 
 were intelligent, or that her manners were win- 
 ning, or that her conversation, when she talked, 
 was rational: — No, he had been coaxing himself 
 for the last three months into a belief of all 
 this ; because she was an heiress ; —but now he 
 looked at her as a child would look at a leaden 
 toy after its gilding had been stripped off — he 
 saw her in all her native imperfection, and only 
 wondered how he could ever have been so 
 foolish as to entertain the hope of compensating 
 to himself for the want of attractions in a wife, 
 by riches. 
 
 Then the ridicule to which he should be ex- 
 posed from those who were in his confidence, 
 and to whom he had entrusted his project. — 
 Then the loss of his fifteen hundred pounds, and 
 his temerity and precipitation in returning Mrs. 
 Trainer's bond, — then the necessary abandon- 
 ment of Ringsworth,— then the perpetual union 
 with such a dull, diminutive dowdy, as he all at 
 once discovered his delicate, retiring Grace to 
 be ; and above all the boitlversement of his ima- 
 ginary plans of comfort, splendour, and self-gra- 
 tification, and the abrupt failure of the whole of 
 
 vol. I. G 
 
122 THE SUTHERLAND^. 
 
 a well-laid plan, concocted in a mind devoted 
 through life to the one sole object of money- 
 getting; all crowded into his imagination, and 
 made him at once both sorrowful and angry. 
 
 A silence of some minutes succeeded his as- 
 sumption of the seat next Grace ; and when she 
 broke that silence, (which, strange to say, she 
 did,) she enquired " whether her papa had been 
 engaged in business, since, contrary to usual 
 custom, his friends had made their appearance 
 before him in the drawing-room. 
 
 Whether the little thing, calm and cold as 
 it looked, really wished to induce a conversa- 
 tion upon the subject which her equally cold, 
 but alas ! not equally calm lover most sedu- 
 lously desired to avoid, I cannot say ; nor indeed 
 can I report what James might have replied, to 
 her question, for owing to some untoward cir- 
 cumstance, or consequent perhaps upon some 
 remark of Miss Fisherton, the moment Grace 
 began her appeal, a sudden tittering, somewhat 
 savouring of ill-breeding, commenced in the 
 circle, and Emma suddenly abandoning her oc- 
 cupation of turning over the leaves of her mu- 
 sic-books, elevated her glass to her sparkling 
 
THE SUTHEltLANDS. 123 
 
 eye in order to ascertain whether the lovers 
 were actually in communication. 
 
 Grace, whose back was turned towards the 
 smirking group, did not perceive this evolution ; 
 but James did, and a whisper from Colonel 
 Fitzmaurice to Emma, and a consequent smile- 
 covering frown from the young lady, brought at 
 once to his mind his real position in the esta- 
 blishment: he saw in an instant that he had 
 been selected to take a person out of the family 
 whom it was desirable to remove; he had all 
 along been treated as one who could know no- 
 thing of the world or its affairs ; and now that 
 he had ascertained the actual nature of Grace's 
 connexion with the house of Lazenby, he was 
 less surprised at the cavalier treatment he had 
 hitherto experienced than before. 
 
 This discovery to one who, like James, was 
 proud as well as mean, was most galling in its 
 character; and to speak truth it was with the 
 greatest difficulty he mustered sufficient courage 
 and philosophy to reply to the question of his 
 beloved under the heavy weight of his own afflic- 
 tions, and the heavy fire of significant glances 
 from his unfeeling persecutors. 
 g2 
 
124 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 Such an evening of restraint and uneasiness, 
 so many artificial smiles, so much affected plea- 
 sure, so much real anxiety, my politic lover, 
 now caught in his own snare, had never before 
 experienced in the whole course of his metho- 
 dical life ; but Grace was still the same, she was 
 immovable and unmoved ; and, although to a 
 sensitive girl of feeling and passion, the altera- 
 tion in her lover's manner (as little changed 
 as possible it is true) would have been instantly 
 perceptible, in her it appeared not to make the 
 smallest difference either as to feelings or re- 
 gards, and she deposited her little cold, pink, 
 hand in that of Sutherland, when they 
 parted for the evening, with as much inartifi- 
 ciality as ever, and felt neither disappointment 
 nor surprise when her lover omitted the custo- 
 mary squeeze, which, although never yet re- 
 turned, had hitherto been regularly given. 
 
 Casay early in the evening, retired from 
 the brilliant display of Italian canzonetts and 
 oriental whist, to the clear comprehension of 
 which his intellect was hardly adequate ; but he 
 departed not without having engaged himself 
 and his client to ratify the necessary documents 
 by which legal possession was to be given to the 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 125 
 
 second son of the Sutherlands, of a wife, and 
 her life-interest in three hundred pounds per 
 annum. 
 
 Arrived at his hotel, James first hoped that 
 all which had passed was visionary, — that he 
 had dreamed a horrid dream, — but the more he 
 reflected, the more he was assured of its dread- 
 ful reality, and the more he considered, the 
 clearer sounded in his ear, " life-interest in three 
 hundred pounds per annum .'" 
 
 James, it should be understood, was not a 
 French scholar, and therefore puzzled himself 
 mightily to understand what object it could pos- 
 sibly be upon which Mr. Lazenby proposed to 
 expend five hundred pounds, in addition to the 
 extremely liberal settlement which he had made ; 
 and when he canvassed the whole affair and 
 its arrangement in his mind, the respect he at 
 first had entertained for the Nabob's liberality, 
 turned into the most sovereign contempt for his 
 meanness. Grace's unsophistication again glared 
 upon him as downright stupidity ; and he de- 
 nounced Mrs. Trainer by an appellation which 
 it would be unseemly to repeat, and added that 
 of swindler to all the rest of the epithets which 
 he so liberally bestowed upon her. 
 
126 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 It was, indeed, a galling disappointment ; 
 and James had, at one moment, nearly resolved 
 upon breaking off the connexion at all hazards, 
 and starting for France, or Poyais, or Ota- 
 heite, or America ; at one moment it suggested 
 itself to him as a good plan to abscond in the 
 night, and leave his hat swimming in the Ser- 
 pentine River, or rush forward pele-mele to 
 Gretna Green, and marry the first girl who 
 would have him. This last, however, appeared 
 a measure somewhat too desperate to under- 
 take rashly; for he held that it would be the 
 height of temerity to " fly from evils that he 
 knew, to others which he knew not of;" and if 
 he married at all, why Grace, though plain, was 
 innocent, though silly, mild, and though ge- 
 nerally indifferent to all things, less so to him 
 than to any thing else. Thus, by the time sleep 
 chained his senses and steeped them in forget- 
 fulness, he had made up his mind to endure 
 the complete destruction of all his youthful 
 hopes and early ambition, with the best possible 
 humour. 
 
 Meanwhile much was doing at Bath ; Mrs. 
 Sutherland was fast declining in health, and 
 the waters were not what Jane wanted, to re- 
 
 <- 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 127 
 
 store her bloom and spirits; deep-seated me- 
 lancholy was her disorder; now that she was 
 left more alone than before, she felt a powerful 
 accession to her bodily ills, and thus driven from 
 their peaceful home, the wretched couple of in- 
 sulated females pined and moped away their 
 lives in a small house in Rivers-street, pre- 
 vented by their ill-health from mingling in the 
 doubtful pleasures of Bath in summer, where 
 grass grows in every street and square, in 
 which the scorching rays of the sun will allow 
 the mis-placed herbage to spring. 
 
 George heard of his mother's illness; and 
 although determined upon the continental trip, 
 resolved not to leave England without pay- 
 ing her a visit; he made sundry efforts to 
 go to her alone, and threw out numerous hints 
 to that effect, but Emily had never seen Bath, 
 and therefore go she must, if he went; and 
 as it would have been harsh to deny her such 
 an undoubted privilege as that of accompanying 
 her husband to the home of his mother, Mr. 
 Sutherland was compelled to submit to hep 
 reasonable demand. 
 
 Accordingly a journey was arranged and 
 perfected; and after a short avowal of their 
 
128 THE SUTHfillLAXDS. 
 
 intention, the happy couple reached the York 
 House, and Emily, subdued in manner, once 
 more paid her dutiful affection to her mother- 
 in-law;— but she was not the natural laughing 
 Emily, who, some weeks before, had romped 
 and played the hoyden at Ringsworth ; her 
 eye was dull, her brow was clouded, and some- 
 thing there was, which preyed deeply upon her 
 mind. My reader may recollect that she had 
 accumulated a debt in the name of her husband ; 
 she was aware that the announcement of his 
 intention to quit England would accelerate the 
 demands of the tradesmen, to whom bills were 
 owing; she saw in George's altered manner, 
 the ardent devotion of the lover subsided into 
 the calm affection of the husband ; she saw, too, 
 that she had not the power to chain him in- 
 tellectually, and that when the bloom of the 
 cheek should fade, and the sparkle of the eye 
 grow dim, she possessed none of those real qua- 
 lities, those integral virtues, those mental re- 
 sources, by which the autumn of a married 
 life is charmed, the winter of it cheered. His 
 indifference was marked, and the undisguised 
 manner in which he expressed his want of de- 
 ference to her judgment and opinion, convinced 
 
THE SUTHERLAKDS. 129 
 
 her that their existence was not destined to be 
 happy, if passed together. 
 
 It was the assurance in her mind that George 
 did not love her with sufficient devotion to 
 overlook the indiscretions of which she had 
 been guilty, that inspired her with a dread of 
 consequences, when the truth should come to 
 his knowledge; and she naturally felt a constant 
 dread of its disclosure. Fear and love, they say, 
 are incompatible ; and true it is with Emily, that 
 as the crisis approached, and as her apprehen- 
 sions strengthened, so did her affection for her 
 husband gradually diminish. She saw evidences 
 of disappointment and vexation in all his ac- 
 tions — she heard in his conversations reproaches 
 and rebukes by implication, which escaped him 
 involuntarily and unintentionally ; in short, 
 she saw, in spite of kind conduct and gentle 
 bearing towards her, that George wished himself 
 unmarried. A girl, whose mind was regulated 
 neither by principle nor religion, conscious as 
 she was of deceptions never yet suspected by 
 others, still uneasy at the present, and solicitous 
 for the future, was likely enough to find this 
 wish infectious; and Emily, at the time she 
 g 5 
 
130 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 reached Bath, was half wild with contending 
 feelings, too powerful for description. 
 
 She plainly saw that George repented of 
 his marriage with her; she saw that, in point 
 of fact, he was ashamed of her ; and she saw, 
 moreover, that the conduct of his friends, who 
 so pointedly abstained from their usual in- 
 tercourse with him, had aggravated all his 
 bitter feelings. Her mortification at this, min- 
 gled with that fear of consequences to which 
 I have already alluded, excited in her, at first, 
 reserve and mistrust, which progressively grew 
 into coldness, and thence, alas ! into a determi- 
 nation of quitting him eternally. It was with 
 this resolution strong in her mind that she laid 
 her aching head and her flushed cheek upon 
 her pillow the first night of their residence at 
 Bath. 
 
 The passions, the feelings of woman are so 
 ill-proportioned in their strength to her con- 
 stitution and corporeal powers, that the work- 
 ings of an agitated mind soon become evident 
 in her appearance. Emily was no longer the 
 lively thoughtless creature, who, but a few 
 months before, seemed formed but for pleasure 
 and gaiety ; her eye was sunken, and fixed 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 131 
 
 abstractedly upon some object that others saw 
 not ; sighs heaved that snowy bosom which but 
 a little time before had palpitated with rapture 
 and with joy ; momentary blushes " ever and 
 anon" suffused her else pale cheek, and pro- 
 claimed some thought inhabiting her mind which 
 should have found no harbour there ; she was 
 restless, and silent, full of doubts and fears ; and 
 her heart beat and her hand burned. She trem- 
 bled when she heard her husband's step; she 
 sought to avoid him ; she saw her misery ; she 
 felt it. Every thing around was tasteless to her 
 senses — colourless to her eye : one sole, one sin- 
 gle object possessed — enthralled — overwhelmed 
 her, — she loved another. 
 
 When Jane beheld her sister-in-law after their 
 separation, she was startled : had Emily been 
 unmarried, Jane would instantly have suspected 
 the symptoms: she had felt love's bitter woe her- 
 self; but Emily being a wife, Jane, whose notions 
 of the world had been gathered in the neighbour- 
 hood of Ringsworth, and who thought all wo- 
 men like her mother, never entertained the 
 slightest suspicion of the existence of such a 
 passion. Mrs. Sutherland, who also saw the alte- 
 ration in her daughter-in-law, attributed it to a 
 
132 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 more natural cause, and merely calculated how 
 long her son had been married ; Jane, whose 
 pure mind was wholly incapable of drawing 
 such sorts of inferences, sighed and wondered 
 to herself what that had to do with it. 
 
 In this stage of affairs a letter arrived from 
 James Sutherland, announcing his approaching 
 marriage with Grace; in which, although the 
 day was fixed for the following Thursday, he 
 neither requested the attendance of any of 
 his family, nor explained the disappointment 
 of his dearest hopes and expectations. His 
 mother considered his letter dry and cold, even 
 for him, and was conscious of a change in his 
 style from that which pervaded his last com- 
 munication upon the same subject; but she could 
 not account for the alteration, neither could 
 George reconcile his total silence as regarded 
 Ringsworth with the avidity expressed in his 
 former answers on the same subject. James, in 
 truth, had reserved the denouement for a per- 
 sonal interview with his parent ; for although, 
 if he had known originally that his sister-in-law 
 was to have been of the party, he would, in all 
 probability, have changed his determination : it 
 was fixed that he should join the family circle 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 133 
 
 at Bath as soon as might be, after the nuptial 
 ceremony. 
 
 The feelings of the worldly James when on 
 the bridal morning the carriage drove up, 
 which was to carry him to Portland-place, " the 
 place from whence he came," and thence convey 
 him to " the place of execution," — the New 
 Church of St. Mary lebone— were, alas ! widely 
 different from those which he at one time ex- 
 pected would have filled his bosom on this most 
 interesting occasion. While dressing, he thought 
 of innocent lambs decked out for sacrifice — of 
 worldly men over-reached in their speculations 
 — of compulsory fulfilments — of rash engage- 
 ments — of pale cheeks, grey eyes, drab-coloured 
 hair, and slate-coloured drapery. He con- 
 trasted all these with the bold blaze of Emma's 
 beauty, — that beauty which was possessed by 
 one, who also possessed the wealth which had 
 been the object of all his manceuvrings and all 
 his hopes. He was nervous and feverish ; his 
 eyes felt heated, and his hands were cold, but 
 colder still the heart which he was about to 
 surrender at the fashionable Temple in the New 
 Road, in company with all his prospects and 
 expectations, in barter for the hand of a girl he 
 
134 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 in truth despised, and a life-interest in " three 
 hundred pounds per annum. " 
 
 There was a gallant train assembled at 
 the Rajah's, anxious (as James felt) to give a 
 respectability to the marriage of the Rajah's 
 daughter ; but, alas ! in the train was Emma, 
 looking like a fourth grace ; and there were Mrs. 
 Fisherton and Mrs. Chatterton, and a group 
 of nieces and cousins, all affording patronage 
 and protection to the clay-coloured bride. 
 
 In manner she was not the least changed by 
 circumstances, which to a girl of stronger feel- 
 ings or more excitable passions, would have 
 been dreadfully, even if delightfully agitating ; 
 the same placidity, the same coldness, the 
 same precision characterized all her proceed- 
 ings ; and when at the altar she plighted her 
 faith to her husband, she went through the 
 ceremony as mechanically and regularly as if 
 she had been married every morning for the 
 preceding six weeks. As James led her to the 
 carriage, " all his own," she exhibited not the 
 smallest emotion, unless, indeed, I except the 
 evincement of a slight degree of uneasiness 
 upon perceiving that her new dress had acci- 
 dentally contracted a small spot of mud from 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 135 
 
 the chariot-wheel as she stepped into the 
 vehicle. 
 
 The breakfast was eaten gaily and merrily by 
 all the guests, and after it was concluded Mr. 
 Lazenby presented James with a magnificent 
 snuff-box, and Grace with a beautiful set of ame- 
 thysts, which the happy young couple received 
 with becoming acknowledgments; and when the 
 bride came down prepared for the hymeneal 
 journey, dressed in a long blue riding-habit, with 
 a male hat upon her head, made of drab-coloured 
 beaver, to match her complexion, James thought 
 he never had seen her exhibit any thing half so 
 near prettiness : but just as he was winding 
 himself up to think his condition rather enviable 
 than pitiable, Emma Fisherton bounded across 
 the room, and with one bright flash of her 
 sparkling eyes, dissipated the flattering vision of 
 contentment which the poor bridegroom had 
 been so laboriously conjuring up. So unfortu- 
 nate are comparisons, and so apt are men to re- 
 gulate their judgments by them I 
 
 I shall, as indeed it is but correct I should, 
 leave the bride and bridegroom entirely to them- 
 selves, from the moment they quitted Portland 
 Place on the wedding-day, until they arrived three 
 
136 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 days afterwards at Bath, merely premising, that 
 James's spirits during the journey, however enli- 
 vened, were by no means of the best ; all his 
 pleasurable anticipations of joining his family 
 being mixed up with the recollection of his for- 
 mer prospects and his present possessions, — the 
 certainty that George, in the openness of his 
 heart and freedom of his manner, would abso- 
 lutely laugh at the failure of his brother's great 
 scheme, when he was made acquainted with it, — 
 and, above all, that Mrs. George Sutherland 
 would be of the party : she being a lady, whom, 
 now that he was married, he by no means con- 
 sidered as a particularly desirable companion 
 for his wife. 
 
 Out of an agreeable and sound sleep in which 
 he had indulged himself during the trajet from 
 the Castle inn at Marlborough, was the bride- 
 groom awakened by his lady on their near ap- 
 proach to Bath ; and in a very short time he 
 experienced the long-expected pleasure of throw- 
 ing his new wife into the arms of his excellent 
 and exemplary mother. 
 
 Far indeed from a scene of joy was the 
 drawing-room in Rivers Street upon this parti- 
 cularly interesting occasion. James found his 
 
THE SUTHERLAXDS. 137 
 
 mother overcome by tears, and Jane too unwell 
 even to appear, anxious as she might be to con- 
 gratulate her prudent brother upon the acquisi- 
 tion of a wife so wealthy and so amiable as she 
 knew Grace to be. Grieving and afflicting as 
 his own disappointment upon that head was, he 
 was still quite unable to account for the sombre 
 appearance of affairs at Bath, where the truth 
 could not have been known by the family, and 
 equally at a loss to account for the absence of 
 George and his lady, although it must be con- 
 fessed his pleasure at her non-appearance was 
 sufficiently great to overbalance the desire he 
 otherwise would have had in discovering why 
 that branch of the family was missing. 
 
 James had his own disappointments to re- 
 late, and therefore, coupling the escape which 
 his bride had made from the ill example likely 
 to be afforded by Emily's society, with his own 
 exemption from the honest ridicule of his bro- 
 ther George, he restrained his enquiries upon 
 the subject, — which, by the way, he soon per- 
 ceived, were not over agreeable : and consigning 
 his lady to the chamber of his frigid sister, 
 he opened his whole heart to his mother, who 
 listened to the detail with the deepest interest, 
 
138 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 and at the conclusion of his narrative declared 
 her continued hope for his happiness, not one jot 
 dismayed by Grace's want of fortune, nor in the 
 smallest, degree mortified by discovering that 
 she happened to have been born out of wedlock. 
 
 There was a deeper wound rankling in the 
 old lady's heart, than any which the mortifica- 
 tion of a little worldly pride could inflict, — 
 there was a sorrow smouldering there which the 
 breath of enquiry would light into a blaze. 
 James unfortunately, yet naturally, fired the em- 
 bers by asking for his brother : — " Where was 
 he? — Why not present ?"■— The answer was a 
 flood of tears from Mrs. Sutherland. It was 
 clear that something dreadful had happened, 
 and James's thoughts instantly fell into the 
 right train. 
 
 Emily had eloped from the York House the 
 preceding evening, having feigned illness to ex- 
 cuse herself from visiting her mother-in-law; 
 George, with a precipitation perfectly natural, 
 had resolved on following her, — why, he consi- 
 dered not, — whither, he knew not : — he started 
 immediately, leaving a note for his sister; and 
 from intelligence they had received in the course 
 of the morning, it seemed he had succeeded in 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 139 
 
 tracing her and her gallant towards Oxford. 
 With a mind full of doubt and indignation, he 
 pursued the clue which had been given him, re- 
 solved to vindicate his honour, and punish the 
 destroyer, if not of his happiness, at least of his 
 respectability. 
 
 Upon this expedition, then, was the heir of 
 the Sutherlands gone, when, in reply to an ago- 
 nizing expression of his mother's fear for the 
 consequence of any rencontre with his wife's 
 paramour, — James enquired " whether he had 
 made any settlement of his property previous to 
 his departure ? — whether he had effected any 
 insurance on his life ? — and whether he had suf- 
 ficiently well ascertained who the despoiler of 
 his peace was, to bring the matter to a speedy 
 conclusion ?" 
 
 The tender parent saw nothing in this en- 
 quiry but the natural anxiety of a human being 
 for his brother : and no doubt James had in his 
 composition something like fraternal love, but 
 alas ! I, who know them all, am compelled to 
 doubt the singleness of this feeling; — there 
 mingled in his sorrow and solicitude a certain 
 worldly sensitiveness as to the ultimate desti- 
 nation of the family property, which was at 
 
140 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 George's disposal ; his nervousness for his bro- 
 ther certainly was more apparent, and his sym- 
 pathies more strongly excited, than they ordina- 
 rily were upon occasions where he himself was 
 not in some degree interested. 
 
 Poor Jane, whose lot was suffering and mor- 
 tification, accidentally contrived to pay little 
 Grace in the coin which she was generally in the 
 habit of receiving. Most unintentionally did 
 the young lady discuss at. length the relative 
 beauty of pearls and diamonds, and during the 
 ttte a tete, which, it was contrived by James, the 
 bride and her sister-in-law should enjoy, she so 
 often hinted her desire to see her jewels, (all of 
 which she did as a manoeuvre to kill time and 
 keep the conversation clear of her unhappy bro- 
 ther and his ill-starred wife,) that Grace was 
 compelled, in the most serious mariner, to assure 
 her that she had no jewels to shew except one 
 amethyst necklace which her papa had given her 
 on the wedding morning. This, which still passed 
 for badinage with Jane, having subsided, she be- 
 gan a new topic, and indulged in the most fervent 
 expressions of gratitude for maternal affection, 
 questioned her sister-in-law very closely about 
 her mother, after whom she thought she might 
 safely, and ought properly to enquire, now that 
 
THE SUTHERLANDS. 141 
 
 Grace was so near in connexion with her, and 
 now that the coldness which had heretofore per- 
 vaded their conversation as acquaintances, might 
 naturally be expected to give place to the more 
 genial warmth of friendship and relationship. 
 
 Still more unfortunate was Miss Sutherland 
 in this manoeuvre than in the other: the more 
 she discussed the point, the more moved did 
 Grace appear; till, to the utter astonish- 
 ment of Jane, who had never before seen any 
 symptoms of common animation, the agitated 
 girl fell backwards in her chair in a fainting 
 fit. Jane's alarm, — the ringing of bells, — the 
 scuffling for water, — the odour of vinegar, — and 
 the hurrying of the two maids, who, like squires 
 of old, to tilting knights, were carrying on a 
 counterpart of their mistress's conversation in 
 another room, soon roused James's attention 
 and apprehension that something serious had 
 happened : he rushed up-stairs, and beheld his 
 poor bride a little paler than usual, and quite 
 senseless in the arms of his sister. 
 
 " What has happened, Jane ?" said James. 
 
 " I cannot imagine what has affected her so," 
 replied his sister: " we were talking of her 
 jewels." 
 
 " Good God!" exclaimed her anxious hus- 
 
142 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 band in a perfect state of horror, " she hasn't 
 lost her amethyst necklace !" 
 
 Mrs. Sutherland had by this time arrived, 
 and concluding that poor Grace was fatigued, or 
 that something else was the matter with her, 
 signed her son to leave the room, adding that it 
 was all nothing, and that it would soon go off; 
 and James, thus ejected, returned to the draw- 
 ing-room, not without repeating the question 
 about Grace's trinket-box, for the safety of 
 which he made a new enquiry of her maid as 
 he went down stairs. 
 
 There, as he entered the apartment, he be- 
 held to his surprise his brother George, heated, 
 tired, agitated, agonized, — he had overtaken his 
 wife, who had positively refused to see him. At 
 the inn where he detected her, in vain he insist- 
 ed upon knowing the partner of her flight : a fact 
 which neither threats nor imprecations upon his 
 head, which Sutherland liberally bestowed, 
 could possibly extract, he the said paramour 
 being actually concealed in the apartment to 
 which Emily had flown for refuge. No appel- 
 lation, however degrading, could induce the 
 spoiler of his happiness to face him : a meanness 
 which he attributed to that sneaking cowardice 
 
THE SUTHERLAND 5. 143 
 
 which is not unfrequently the companion of 
 daring vice ; but he lived to be undeceived, for 
 in the conclusion of the adventure he discovered 
 the object of all her affection, the cause of all 
 her shame and his dishonour, to be one of his 
 own grooms ! 
 
 All hope, either of preventing the injury in- 
 tended him, or of obtaining satisfaction for it, if 
 committed, now vanished; and he returned from 
 the chase, wearied, degraded, and dishonoured, 
 — betrayed by the candid creature in whom he 
 had confided, and dishonoured by the menial 
 whom he had fed : — " and on this return," said 
 George, " to find you here, in the possession of 
 every earthly blessing, affords a contrast, which, 
 while it cannot decrease my joy at the happiness 
 of your lot, makes my own miserable destiny 
 still more evident to myself." 
 
 " George/' said James, " calm yourself,— my 
 wife is not likely to do me the same favour that 
 yours has been pleased to do you ; but, in the 
 depth of your disappointment, if hearing of 
 another's mortifications and misadventures will 
 be the slightest consolation, I will give you an 
 insight into my history. Console yourself, 
 therefore, by thinking that we all have our mis- 
 
144 THE SUTHERLANDS. 
 
 fortunes, and the only difference in the fates of 
 men is, that evils assail them in different shapes. 
 Shut the door, — calm yourself, — sit down — and 
 listen" 
 
 George, who had at first seen nothing but joy 
 and happiness in the proceedings of his prudent 
 brother, endeavoured to abstract his thoughts 
 from his own evils, and, rubbing his hand once 
 or twice across his forehead, (why, I never could 
 guess,) betook himself most philosophically to 
 listening to James's detail. 
 
 This conference lasted more than an hour ; 
 and when the brothers left the drawing-room, 
 they both wore an air of composure and placi- 
 dity which was quite astonishing. 
 
 As they parted to dress, George was over- 
 heard to whisper James, " Our cases, I think, 
 ought to strengthen the necessity of attending 
 to that proverb which says 'look before you 
 leap/" 
 
 c; Yes," replied James to George, somewhat 
 archly ; " and our example, George, may pretty 
 well serve, to illustrate that other proverb 
 which sa3^s, c marry in haste and repent 
 
 AT LEISURE !'" 
 
THE 
 
 MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
THE 
 
 MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 I take it for granted that all my readers 
 know George Arden — Indeed to doubt the fact 
 were to cast an imputation which a body so 
 numerous and respectable but ill deserves at my 
 hands. 
 
 To the remote circles of Llangefni, in the 
 suburbs of Penzance, or the coteries of Eccle- 
 fechan, his name may yet be new, but to Lon- 
 don and its environs — to frequenters of clubs, 
 Newmarket, and the watering-places, it is as fa- 
 miliar as our household-gods — or, as an excellent 
 lady of my acquaintance, now alas ! no more, 
 used to call them, her " household goods." 
 
 Lest, liowever, by the remotest chance in the 
 world, the range of circulation destined for 
 these stories should include any one of those 
 h 2 
 
148 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 towns to which I have permitted ignorance 
 upon a matter of so much notoriety, I will, 
 for the benefit of country gentlemen, give the 
 slightest possible sketch of my hero. In Lon- 
 don it will be easily filled up and finished. 
 
 George Arden was left an orphan at seven 
 years of age, heir to an immense fortune, which 
 a prospective minority of fourteen summers, pro- 
 mised greatly to increase before his arrival at 
 years of discretion. Alas ! had that period been 
 fixed morally, instead of legally, for the assump- 
 tion of his rights and properties, poor George, 
 I fear, would have lived and died a minor. He 
 was educated in a manner suitable to his ex- 
 pectations, and from that admirable school, 
 Eton, removed in due course to Oxford, where 
 his proceedings very closely resembled those of 
 many other young gentlemen who prefer plea- 
 sure to plodding, and whose efforts, however 
 laborious, certainly do not tend to academic 
 honours in any degree whatever. 
 
 The talented author of Reginald Dalton 
 has given so elaborate a description (sometimes 
 too unfavourable, let the uninformed believe,) of 
 the dangers and difficulties of an Oxford life, 
 that it is quite needless for me to detail the va- 
 rious campaigns in which my hare-brained hero 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 149 
 
 was engaged, until he quitted the classic 
 quad of Christ Church for the still more classic 
 ground of Italy and Greece. 
 
 A tour under the surveillance of a tutor, by 
 three years his senior, was destined to polish 
 our Adonis and fit him for the niche which he 
 was doomed afterwards to fill in civilized socie- 
 ty; and certainly his accomplishments when he 
 returned to England, and the possession of his 
 unincumbered estates, were multiplied beyond 
 the most sanguine hopes and expectations of his 
 uncle, under whose guardianship he had been 
 so carefully and expensively reared to man- 
 hood. 
 
 This uncle was a man of the world ; shrewd, 
 odd, penetrating, rigidly honourable, high-prin- 
 cipled and apparently to George, a little severe. 
 Throughout the minority of his nephew he had 
 fondly cherished the hope of uniting him to a 
 cousin of his own, whose father had many years 
 before died abroad, and whose mother was re- 
 married, and who in days of childhood had been 
 the playmate of George, for whom at that early 
 period of her life she had formed the strongest 
 attachment : but years had flown since those 
 happy days of innocence and joy. Changes in 
 
150 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 their circumstances, their ages, and pursuits, 
 had obliterated from George^s mind all traces of 
 his rosy-cheeked relative, and another, more 
 lovely, nobler, and wealthier, had usurped the 
 place, which, as a boy, he had assigned in his 
 young heart to the artless Louisa. 
 
 How strangely do the feelings of females differ 
 from those by which the opposite sex are ac- 
 tuated ! Louisa was a child, a very child when 
 she called George Arden her " sweetheart," 
 when she plucked the reddest roses and the 
 whitest jasmines to trim out his hoop, or made 
 wings of silver paper for his soaring kite to 
 glitter in the sunshine, and when her light locks 
 wantoned in the breeze, and her light heart 
 beat with pleasure as she heard her loved boy 
 approaching. 
 
 He too, flushed with the glow of youthful 
 health and exercise, would bound over the lawn 
 and field to meet his " sweet Louisa," and 
 sit and watch her bright eyes, play with her 
 curls, and kiss her coral lips and call her " little 
 wife" — and he loved her then as much as she 
 loved him, and they thought no other two could 
 love so dearly. 
 
 Time had flown onwards — Louisa's light 
 tresses had grown darker by age, the fire of 
 
THE MAX OF MANY FRIENDS. 151 
 
 intellect illuminated her fine countenance ; ac- 
 complishments adorned her mind, new graces 
 decked her person ; but the one thought of 
 George Arden lived in her constant heart : she 
 recurred to those days of perfect innocence and 
 unalloyed happiness, with a deep interest min- 
 gled with something very like regret. He had 
 forgotten all — or if remembered, Louisa flashed 
 across his recollection as a childish hoyden, with 
 whom he had romped when a child himself; — 
 but no more — he did not carry in his mind's 
 eye her progress to perfection — he saw her only 
 as the awkward girl of nine or ten years of age, 
 and never calculated what she must have been 
 at nineteen or twenty. 
 
 At the time this narrative commences they had 
 not met for more than ten years : for, after her 
 mother's second marriage, she had left her uncle's 
 house for her maternal roof ; and if she could at 
 any time during that period have claimed the 
 smallest spot in the " waste" of George's memo- 
 ry, at the moment of his return to England 
 from the Continent there was no room for her 
 unpretending charms in his heart, which, like 
 other hearts, was licensed, speaking officially, 
 " to carry not exceeding one inside, 1 "' (at least 
 at a time): he had seen the lovely, learned 
 
J 52 THP; MAN OF MANY FRIENDS, 
 
 Lady Frances Bellamy, and had fallen a victim 
 to her beauty and Blueism. 
 
 There are some pieces of otherwise agreeable 
 intelligence, which, owing to the circumstances 
 under which they reach us, become, if not posi- 
 tively unpleasant, at least much less gratifying 
 than in a different temper of mind they could 
 not fail to be ; and when Colonel Arden heard 
 that the house of Bellamy saw no objection to 
 the union of their highly-gifted daughter with 
 his wealthy nephew, although the alliance was at 
 once honourable and advantageous, and pro- 
 mised, as it seemed, happiness and comfort, a 
 pang of disappointment shot through his heart, 
 when he reflected that this splendid connexion 
 would necessarily give the death-blow to his fa- 
 vourite project of a marriage between George 
 and his cousin Louisa. 
 
 The die, however, was cast; the invitation 
 which had before been despatched to the bloom- 
 ing Louisa to visit her uncle, and meet her 
 cousin on his return from the Continent, was re- 
 voked; and the poor girl, who had, without any 
 knowledge of her uncled ulterior intentions on 
 the subject, anxiously looked forward to a re- 
 union with her old and well-remembered play- 
 felloWj was destined to remain in the silence and 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 153 
 
 solitude of the Elizabethan house of her father- 
 in-law, who had fortunately obtained the ma- 
 tured heart of her mother, just at the time 
 when George commenced his travels. 
 
 No sooner did the gay, volatile, and open- 
 hearted George establish himself in London, 
 than his Oxford friendships were renewed ; men 
 whom he had met at foreign courts rejoiced 
 again to see their amiable friend; a house in 
 Grosvenor Street, furnished splendidly, a cellar 
 admirably stocked, a first-rate Dog-Cook and 
 assistants, a set of horses for town, hunters at 
 Melton, and running-horses at Newmarket, prac- 
 tically sounded his merits and virtues, and his 
 door was actually besieged by crowds of men, 
 all courting his acquaintance, and all combin- 
 ing, as if by common consent, to praise his wine, 
 exalt his dinners, win his money, drive his car- 
 riages, and ride his horses. 
 
 The bright object of all his hopes and fears 
 was to arrive in town as early in the ensuing 
 London winter as June — it was now May, and 
 the fame of my gay hero did not fail to reach 
 her ears even before she left " our good" and 
 crazy city of Paris. 
 
 Colonel Arden, who had gathered from the 
 h5 
 
154 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 young and Reverend Mr. Ormsby, his nephew's 
 tutor, that his disposition was excellent, his 
 talents of a superior order, and his mind the 
 most ingenuous and confiding, felt that as the 
 young man was absolute master of at least four- 
 teen thousand pounds per annum, the conduct 
 he was pursuing in the great world was perfect- 
 ly justifiable by his circumstances ; and as the 
 old gentleman joined to an intimate knowledge 
 of society, a liberality not common to age, he 
 saw nothing in the career of his nephew more 
 than a proper display of wealth, and a due 
 maintenance of the respectability attached to 
 the station in life which he was fully entitled 
 to occupy. 
 
 Amongst George's friends, his favourites as- 
 suredly were Sir Harry Flowerdale, a Baronet, 
 and ex-member of parliament; Arthur Dyson, 
 a sly, calculating, younger brother of a good 
 family, addicted in a certain degree to play ; and 
 Harry Dallimore, a perfect dandy in the best 
 and most liberal acceptation of the term, and 
 a lady-killer to boot. These, and the agreeable, 
 gay, and easy libertine, Bertie Noel, formed the 
 supreme council of George's establishment: but, 
 besides these, there were semi-bosom friends, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 155 
 
 who occasionally approached the conclave of 
 Grosvenor Street as being dependants or friends 
 of the actual members of it : — for instance, 
 Flowerdale contrived to introduce to his friend 
 Arden such persons as he thought might even- 
 tually combine to return him for a Borough 
 in Yorkshire, but to whom it was not quite con- 
 venient to himself to give dinners — these of course 
 dined at Arden's. Dyson could always make 
 up a little sporting party, if required, and was 
 sure to know some three or four men who either 
 had horses to sell, or who wanted horses to buy, 
 and these also, of course, Mr. Arthur Dyson, 
 who appeared to have assumed the character of 
 clerk marshal in the household, paraded at seven 
 o'clock at Arden's hospitable board, whenever 
 any changes were about to take place in the 
 mews, the stable, or the kennel. 
 
 George was sufficiently quick-sighted to dis- 
 cover that his friend Dyson was a disciple of 
 that school whose leading axiom is " that all *« 
 fair in horse-dealing ;" but he fancied himself 
 too good a judge of the noble animal, whose 
 qualities and perfections engrossed all Arthur's 
 thoughts, and pervaded all his conversations, to 
 allow any man to overreach him in that parti- 
 
156 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 cular. The consequence was, that his stalls in 
 London were at times crowded with useless 
 steeds, his stalls at Melton inhabited by slugs 
 and roarers, and as for his Newmarket specula- 
 tions, which were conducted under the same sur- 
 veillance, their nature may easily be ascertained, 
 when I say that his best friends and most in- 
 timate associates eagerly took all the long 
 odds he chose to lay upon his favourites, or, 
 tailing in that, would go the length of betting 
 the long odds most manfully against them. 
 
 Still, however, time flew swiftly and gaily, 
 for what had George Arden to do with care ? 
 The rosy May, though fashionably a winter 
 month, led on the smiling summer of nature, and 
 June, which was to bring to his longing eyes 
 the lovely Lady Frances Bellamy, was fast ap- 
 proaching. The solicitudes and anxieties of 
 love were to be counteracted by dissipation and 
 pleasure ; and laughed out of his proper feelings 
 by his many friends, the giddy George em- 
 barked in play, merely pour passer le temps. 
 Three weeks, however, had not closed before 
 his friend Flowerdale, whose finances had suf- 
 fered severely in his late unsuccessful Parlia- 
 mentary contest, having pocketed seven thou- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 157 
 
 sand pounds of George's money, suddenly and 
 unexpectedly quitted London and eventually 
 England, having discovered at this particularly 
 seasonable juncture that gaming was the most 
 destructive vice upon earth ; to prove the sin- 
 cerity of which opinion, he left on the evening 
 of his departure a letter of advice to his dear 
 friend George Arden, entreating him to curb the 
 propensity for play, which, but too evidently to 
 all his well-wishers, was strong upon him. 
 
 George felt disappointed that his dear bosom- 
 friend Flowerdale should have so abruptly left 
 the happy circle, but still more annoyed at his 
 lecture. However, he reflected for a moment 
 that experience must be purchased, that Flow- 
 erdale was involved, that he wanted the monev, 
 and finally that his letter had been dictated by- 
 real friendship, in which he was cordially joined 
 by Dyson and Dallimore, who drowned the 
 few unpleasant reflections which floated in 
 George's mind in bumpers of claret, and soothed 
 away all his angry feelings with repeated ques- 
 tions of " what did it signify ?" and " where is 
 the harm ?" — and as many declarations that 
 " Flowerdale was an excellent fellow !" and 
 " meant no wrong," &c. &c. 
 
158 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 To George this favourite merely gave place 
 to others, who were soon enrolled in the select 
 list of his companions, and the festivities of 
 Grosvenor Street lost none of their vivaciousness 
 by the secession of the prudent baronet from the 
 party, until the occurrence of that event which 
 had been so anxiously expected by my hero, and 
 which soon put a stop to the course of gaieties, 
 or at all events worked a striking change in 
 their character and nature. 
 
 The Earl of Roxeth and his Countess, and 
 their blooming daughter the Lady Frances Bel* 
 lamy arrived in London ; and George, as it might 
 be expected, was constantly at her side. Her 
 Ladyship was, as I have said before, handsome, 
 but she was learned, and in her intercourse with 
 George, however much she liked the man, and 
 however seasonable her noble father considered the 
 addition to her portion of his fourteen thousand 
 pounds per annum, she somewhat, undervalued 
 her lover's intellect, — and, moreover, in addition 
 to the opinion which she had formed of him in- 
 dividually, had naturally a disposition (by no 
 means uncommon) to show off her superiority 
 over her associates in the most striking manner 
 whenever an opportunity occurred. This pro- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY F1UENDS. 159 
 
 pensity, and my reader must have remarked it in 
 others, rendered her while engaged in a tite-d- 
 tete excessively agreeable as a companion, but 
 the moment a third person arrived, that viva- 
 ciousness which had charmed in her conversation 
 became matter of exhibition to the new comer, 
 and the former companion and even the older 
 friend instantly became the mark for her ridi- 
 cule, and the butt for those shafts of satire, 
 which she so well knew how to aim, but which her 
 Ladyship, feeling with the ancient that :— " Ne- 
 mo orator sine multitudine audiente," — without 
 the excitement of an audience to witness her skill, 
 did not consider it necessary to her reputation 
 to fire off: in short, the Lady Frances was, as 
 all pedantic women are, disagreeable and uncer- 
 tain, self-opinionated, flighty, above the things 
 of this world, and, to use a common expression 
 which has more truth in it than those who are per- 
 petually using it perhaps think, " a little mad" 
 George Arden had frequently spoken to 
 Lady Frances of Harry Dallimore, his intimate 
 friend, in terms of unqualified admiration, had 
 eulogized his talents and praised the excellence 
 of his heart. It was not unknown to her Lady- 
 ship that Dallimore's name was celebrated in 
 
lbO THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 certain circles for his taste, his accomplishments, 
 and above all for his success in matters of gal- 
 lantry. To a philosophical lady, whose graver 
 hours were employed upon theories, such a 
 person could not fail to be a most acceptable 
 acquaintance ; and accordingly, at her parti- 
 cular request, Arden kindly undertook to in- 
 troduce his favourite friend to his amiable 
 mistress. 
 
 It was curious to observe the effect of this 
 introduction. Dallimore was really talented, 
 but it was less by his talent than by an appa- 
 rently implicit devotion to the present object, 
 whatever it might happen to be, that he made 
 his way so suddenly and favourably with Lady 
 Frances. His enthusiastic descriptions of some 
 beautiful specimens of argillaceous schist us, 
 which he had procured from Zillerthal, with 
 a dissertation upon the copper and calamine 
 which he flattered himself he had discovered 
 in them; the distinctness with which he an- 
 swered her enquiries as to whether the former 
 more partook of the character of the Kup- 
 ferkies or the Weisskupferez, and his happy in- 
 timacy with the Roth-cronstein-erz of Nagyag, 
 and the Rothes-bleierz of Ekatharenburg, de- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 161 
 
 lighted her; nor was she less charmed when she 
 found him versed in all the experimental tricke- 
 ries of science ; she listened with rapture to his 
 details of the various modes of analysis and 
 combination, and gave the deepest attention to 
 his most abstruse dissertations. It quite over- 
 came poor George when he heard this couple 
 descanting upon subjects and discussing points 
 which were far beyond his comprehension; 
 and when he heard these lectures repeated 
 day after day, and found Dallimore at all hours 
 in the boudoir of his beloved, he began in some 
 degree to repent of the introduction he hud 
 secured for his friend, whose character appeared 
 to have undergone as complete a change by his 
 association with the young s^avante as tartaric 
 acid could have effected upon iron. 
 
 In short, George, although he had natu- 
 rally the most perfect confidence in the honour 
 of Dallimore, and although his amour propre 
 made him at first quite indifferent to his con- 
 stant intercourse with the Lady Frances, at 
 length began gradually to doubt the prudence of 
 his measures, when one fine morning his intended 
 wife explained to him with great force and 
 emphasis, and in the presence of Dallimore, the 
 primary law of chemical affinity. 
 
162 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Chemical affinity," said Lady Frances, 
 " you must understand will act, and a combina- 
 tion take place between two bodies when they 
 are uncombined with all other bodies. " 
 
 " I perceive," said George. 
 
 Dallimore smiled — and his smile was one of 
 self-satisfaction. 
 
 " But, 11 continued the animated lecturess, 
 " you must also understand that when one of 
 the bodies is in a state of combination with 
 others, then the bodies which really have the 
 greatest affinity for each other cannot entirely 
 combine together. 11 
 
 " You comprehend that, George r 11 said Dalli- 
 more. 
 
 " Perfectly, 11 answered George, which by the 
 way was not the case — but let that pass. 
 
 " Suppose, 11 said Lady Frances, " exempli gra- 
 tia, that two bodies A and B have an affinity for 
 each other, and are actually in a state of combi- 
 nation — and suppose, 11 continued her Ladyship, 
 pointedly addressing herself to the elegant Dalli- 
 more, " C is a third body which has a stronger 
 affinity for the body B than the affinity which 
 exists between A and B, it is quite clear that 
 the compound body A B will be decomposed, 
 and the body C will combine with the body B. 11 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 163 
 
 " And," continued Dallimore, " entirely leave 
 the body A." 
 
 The poor body A, most interested in this 
 matter, however dull men generally are to that 
 which principally concerns themselves, and 
 which at the same time is perfectly obvious to 
 every body else, could not fail to perceive 
 from the fortuitous coincidence of the initials 
 of their names, added to the emphatic delivery 
 of the lady, and the apt rejoinder of the gen- 
 tleman, that more was meant than absolutely 
 met the ear, and that, in fact, the process of 
 decomposition was rapidly proceeding, even ad- 
 mitting that the new combination had not actually 
 commenced ; and George determined to shew that 
 he was not so easily to be deceived and laughed at 
 as the enlightened couple appeared to imagine : 
 he rose and left the boudoir angrily, thinking by 
 withdrawing himself, to break up the conference ; 
 but he was mistaken in his tactics. The pur- 
 suit of science was too hot, and the system too 
 interesting to give way to any passing event, 
 and our irritated lover quitted the drawing- 
 room resolved to settle the affair that evening, 
 by calling his friend to account for conduct 
 which he neither anticipated nor understood. 
 
164 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 In fact, George Arden was labouring under 
 that sort of surprise in which the satisfactory 
 mingleth not — and as he walked homewards 
 to Grosvenor Street, it appeared to him, either 
 that he was asleep, or just awakened from 
 an extremely disagreeable dream. He revolved 
 in his mind the progress of Dalliniore's ac- 
 quaintance with his learned fair one, and 
 ruminated upon all the " trifles light as air" 
 which combined themselves in his mind con- 
 nected with the subject ; feeling, however, as I 
 must honestly confess, something like consola- 
 tion in this very unpleasant dilemma, from the 
 recollection that prevention is better than cure, 
 and the consideration that if the Lady Frances 
 was, as she appeared to him at that moment to 
 be, a jilt and a coquette, it was extremely lucky 
 for him that her Ladyship's disposition had 
 evinced itself before they were irrevocably 
 united. 
 
 Reaching home in this particular mood, he 
 discovered, waiting his arrival, his constant 
 friend Dyson, to whom he candidly and inge- 
 nuously opened his heart, and from whom he 
 sought advice as to what he should do under 
 the circumstances ; his own feeling being that 
 he ought in the first place to exclude Dallimore 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 165 
 
 from his house, and then speedily summon him 
 to a meeting, in order to obtain at least an ex- 
 planation of his very extraordinary conduct. 
 
 Dyson, to whom our hero was at the moment 
 indebted in a considerable sum of money, heard 
 the history of all his doubts and fears with per- 
 fect complacency, and calmly considering in his 
 own mind that if any fatal accident should occur 
 to Arden, in consequence of a hostile meet- 
 ing with Dallimore, he not only should lose 
 his excellent friend, but more than that, the 
 amount due from his estate for debts of ho- 
 nour — proceeded to expatiate upon the impro- 
 bability of any thing intentionally improper 
 having been done on the part of Dallimore — 
 and upon the possibility of mistake on the 
 part of Arden, till in conclusion, after soothing 
 the irritation of his dear George, he volunteered 
 to be the bearer of a message to Dallimore, 
 not of warlike import, but in the way of ex- 
 planation; and added, that he was perfectly sure 
 every thing would be quite right in the end, 
 begging George to be convinced that he would 
 take as much care of his honour as if it were 
 his own. 
 
 Dyson, it will be seen, had his game to play 
 
166 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 He had no notion of risking his own security of a 
 constant comfortable home, the kind aid of a li- 
 beral friend, and, moreover, the prospect of pay- 
 ment of sundry debts beforementioned, by any 
 rash proceeding; superadded to which the whole 
 devotion of his life had been latterly expended 
 in prayers, that the much desired match between 
 the blue belle and Arden might never take 
 place. He knew well enough, as far as related to 
 himself, that he was not a fit associate for pe- 
 dantry in petticoats, and very reasonably anti- 
 cipated his own immediate expulsion from the 
 scientific circle, of which he had no doubt the 
 Lady Frances would cause herself to be en- 
 throned the centre, very speedily after her as- 
 sumption of the monarchy in Grosvenor Street. 
 Whatever measure Dyson might have pro- 
 posed to his friend, however active and ready 
 might have been his interference upon the occa- 
 sion, everything was rendered unavailing, all 
 precautions baffled, all proceedings invalidated, 
 by an occurrence which those who thought 
 they knew the Lady Frances certainly did not 
 foresee— the truth is, that the alarm had been 
 given to the scientific lovers (for lovers they 
 were) by the jealous irritation of Arden in the 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 167 
 
 morning, and the following night, Love lent them 
 wings in the shape of a travelling-carriage and 
 four horses, and before the confiding Arden 
 awoke to a sense of his friencTs duplicity, they 
 were " over the hills and far away" on the high 
 road to happiness. 
 
 There are persons to be found in this great 
 town, who say that Dyson himself lent Dalli- 
 more the carriage used upon this memorable 
 expedition, and some even go so far as to add, 
 that four bays, abstracted at a late hour from 
 Arden's stables, under Dyson's order, conveyed 
 the happy couple the first stage of the journey 
 — whether this be calumny or not, time perhaps 
 may shew. 
 
 When my jilted hero received from his ser- 
 vant in the morning the news of Lady Frances's 
 elopement, he certainly did inveigh bitterly 
 against Dallimore, whom he decided to be the 
 partner of her flight; while even at the very 
 moment the noble father of the fugitive was, or 
 affected to be, perfectly ignorant upon the sub- 
 ject, and actually sent to enquire whether Arden 
 was at home, as if he imagined his affection 
 for his daughter had been sufficiently powerful 
 to drive him to the anticipation of their intended 
 
168 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 marriage — a measure of which nobody in their 
 senses could reasonably have suspected him. 
 
 When his Lordship, however, found that 
 Lady Frances had made some other swain the 
 partner of her flight, and that all hopes of 
 Arden's fortune were lost to his illustrious 
 house, he repaired forthwith to the abandoned 
 lover, whom he found attended by the excellent 
 Dyson and the agreeable Noel, who in their 
 different ways had been, previously to his Lord- 
 ship's arrival, endeavouring to console him for 
 the loss of his fair one — Noel by assuring him that 
 he was certain her family were by no means of 
 the " first water," and Dyson by repeatedly ex- 
 pressing his conviction that she was not a good 
 judge of a horse; in the midst of which consola- 
 tory conversation, as I have just mentioned, her 
 noble father entered the apartment, and was 
 about to deliver his sentiments upon the extra- 
 ordinary undutifulness of his child, when a let- 
 ter bearing the Barnet post-mark, was handed 
 to Arden. He read it — not without some marks 
 of perturbation; and having concluded it, handed 
 it to the noble Earl — rising at the same time 
 from table, and withdrawing with Dyson and 
 Noel into the hbrary, as I suppose, to reveal the 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 169 
 
 purport of the communication and consult those 
 estimable young gentlemen upon the nature of 
 his future proceedings. 
 
 The letter was from the Lady Frances her- 
 self, and ran thus — 
 
 " This letter will reach you when I shall be 
 at a distance from you, and as far as our in- 
 tended union is concerned, eternally separated 
 from you. 
 
 " The step I have taken is one which I am 
 quite aware will entail upon me the anger of 
 my father, and the censure of the world ; but 
 you must not blame me, for I felt afraid that 
 neither of us could be happy in marriage. I 
 have every esteem and regard for you — my opi- 
 nion of your heart and disposition has under- 
 gone no change since our first meeting on the 
 Continent, but a closer intimacy with you has 
 latterly convinced me that our tastes and pur- 
 suits are so diametrically opposed, that any 
 thing like a constant association with each other 
 could have been productive of nothing but con- 
 stant disagreement. 
 
 " To have appealed to you in this stage of 
 the affair, would have been as useless as to have 
 thrown myself upon the consideration of my fa- 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 THE MAN OF MANY FEIENDS. 
 
 ther, who I knew would not have listened to 
 the expression of doubts founded upon my self- 
 knowledge and a conviction of the dissimilarity 
 of our characters and dispositions. I therefore 
 risked the imputation of temporary imprudence 
 to secure myself from continuous misery. — I 
 found in your amiable and intelligent friend, a 
 being who sympathized with me in every pur- 
 suit, who entered into all my views, who saw 
 with me, felt with me, and whose mind and cha- 
 racter, in short, appeared formed to render me 
 happy : all this will sound perhaps heartless to 
 those who do not really know me — amongst the 
 number, yourself. This, too, may surprise you ; 
 but it is true, there never has existed between us 
 that " similar sympathy'" so beautifully and deli- 
 cately described by Jackson, which is so essential 
 to a reciprocity of confidence and mutuality of 
 affection. It was a consciousness of the absence of 
 this agreement of inclinations that rendered me 
 miserable, and I saw before me, only a gloomy 
 vista leading from the altar to the grave. I have 
 taken the deciding step of my destiny : to Italy 
 my fond and accomplished husband will accom- 
 pany me, and there, beneath a sky as cloudless as 
 our minds, we will shew the world what real 
 
THE MAN GF MANY FRIENDS. 171 
 
 happiness is, and where true contentment may 
 be found. 
 
 " And now one word about my husband — 
 you must wholly acquit him of duplicity, or 
 any ungenerous plotting against your happiness. 
 He, like me, saw in your marriage with me no- 
 thing but misery for you — he spoke, he acted in 
 every respect like a friend; — I have frequently 
 witnessed his amiable distress when we have been 
 discussing your merits and good qualities, and 
 the dreadful apprehensions we mutually felt for 
 your future comfort ; — in short, if we have con- 
 spired, it has been for your advantage. He begs 
 me to say, that nothing but our hurried mode 
 of travelling prevents his writing. I have pre- 
 pared this letter, and shall leave it at the first 
 post-town on the road, so that it may reach you 
 in the morning. I shall write to-morrow to my 
 father, whose apprehensions of such a step as 
 that which I have taken are, I am quite sure, 
 not yet awakened. Your conduct this morning 
 accelerated the execution of our scheme, and 
 I feel confident that you will be reconciled to 
 an event, which, while it destroys the doubt 
 of your happiness through life, has ensured that 
 of one for whom you have always professed a 
 i2 
 
172 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 sincere regard, and who can never cease to re- 
 member you with sentiments of the warmest 
 esteem and friendship. I shall not sign this 
 scrawl — you will be at no loss to know whence it 
 comes, and the next communication I shall make 
 to my friends will be under a different name. — 
 Once more, adieu l" 
 
 The noble Earl having perused this splendid 
 specimen of his fair daughter's epistolary style, 
 doubled up the letter, emphatically pronouncing 
 a strong and rather long word, which, were the 
 vice of swearing practised by the aristocracy, 
 might have been misunderstood for the syno- 
 nyrne of eternal condemnation in a future state. 
 
 George, it was clear, could do nothing in 
 the affair; for, as Dyson said, it seemed pretty 
 evident that the Lady had carried off the lover ; 
 at least such was the impression made by the in- 
 dependent account which she herself had been 
 pleased to give of the business. 
 
 George, with the best feelings, and a determi- 
 nation to pursue that which should be consider- 
 ed the right and honourable course, with the ad- 
 vice of the noble and disappointed Earl, and of 
 his amiable and zealous younger friends, put 
 himself entirely into their hands: the decision 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 173 
 
 was unanimous, that he could move no far- 
 ther in the matter; that her Ladyship had 
 made her election, and that he was doomed to 
 the willow, without remedy or revenge. If 
 George had worn a window on his breast, it 
 appears probable that the most evident feeling 
 of his heart would have been found to be 
 offended pride. His amour propre was the 
 greatest sufferer in the affair, and the loss of 
 Lady Frances was light by comparison with 
 the triumph of his treacherous and successful 
 rival. 
 
 There were now several courses to be pur- 
 sued, independently of any measures personally 
 towards the new married couple; and, after wa- 
 vering as to how he should conduct himself re- 
 latively to the world upon his misfortune, he re- 
 solved, under the advice of his friends, to in- 
 crease, if possible, the splendour and frequency 
 of his parties ; to extend the circle of his ac- 
 quaintance ; and, in short, to dissipate his cares 
 in gaiety and revelry, and at the same time daz- 
 zle with the brilliancy of his entertainments those 
 eyes, which else, perhaps, would scrutinize too 
 closely the causes of his distress and disappoint- 
 ments. 
 
174 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 Amongst the most exciting pursuits into 
 which his defeat had diverted his genius and 
 talents, play, to which he had already shewn a 
 predisposition, presented itself in the most 
 tempting garb. He knew that even prosper- 
 ous love itself succumbs before the spirit of 
 gambling — that domestic comforts and rational 
 pursuits yield to its influence. If this were the 
 case, disappointed affection he naturally thought 
 might be easily cured by its soul-absorbing power. 
 Dyson soon collected a herd of sympathizing 
 friends, who nursed the growing propensity ; and 
 the nightly orgies of Grosvenor Street shortly 
 became subjects of nuisance in the neighbour- 
 hood, and of speculation in the newspapers. 
 
 His time and property, however, were not ex- 
 clusively devoted to the one pursuit ; a series 
 of dinners, admirably put down, with all the 
 agrtmtns of superior wines, still attracted good 
 company, and Arden's parties glared conspicu- 
 ously in the Morning Post ; concerts and fetes 
 shared his attentions, and his dreadful failure 
 with the Lady Frances was, as all important 
 events in London society generally are, very 
 soon forgotten. 
 
 Meanwhile Colonel Arden, although merely 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 175 
 
 a ceremonious and periodical correspondent with 
 his nephew, received from other quarters con- 
 tinuous hints and warnings of the perilous 
 situation in which George was placed, surround- 
 ed by giddy and thoughtless companions, and 
 discovered that he was forming connexions, 
 male and female, as little advantageous to the 
 respectability of his character, as conducive to 
 his health or prosperity ; in short, the house in 
 Grosvenor Street was described to the Colonel 
 as a scene of unprincipled libertinism, and it was 
 represented to the old gentleman, that ruinous 
 consequences might be confidently and speedily 
 expected, if the present course of his nephew's 
 life continued to be followed. 
 
 The moment the Colonel heard of the frus- 
 tration of the marriage with Lady Frances, the 
 old desire for George's union with his cousin 
 Louisa was revived. There appeared to him 
 if not a probability, at least something like 
 a possibility, of its happy conclusion, and the 
 old gentleman almost rejoiced at the abrupt 
 termination of an affair which he had never quite 
 liked, merely because it militated so powerfully 
 against his warmest wishes. 
 
 The Colonel had received from his thought- 
 
176 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 less nephew such an account of the business as 
 proved, satisfactorily to him, that his heart had 
 never been very much concerned in the proposed 
 marriage with the noble female philosopher ; he 
 had been dazzled and caught by the pretensions 
 and accomplishments of the young lady, which, 
 added to the dash of nobility and the sound of 
 title, had conspired to entangle, but not to 
 wound, her captive. 
 
 No sooner did the old gentleman receive the 
 authentic and philosophical detail of George's 
 defeat, than he disposed himself in his travelling- 
 carriage, ordered his man to pack up some 
 clothes, and at the tails of four smoking posters, 
 proceeded to the ivy-crested mansion which con- 
 tained his favourite niece Louisa. Thanks to 
 Mr. Mac- Adam (who somewhere has been wag- 
 gishly called the Colossus of Roads) the old 
 gentleman was not long on his journey, and 
 early in the second day received the welcome of 
 his sister and her charming daughter. The ab- 
 sence of her father-in-law, upon business, did 
 not in the smallest degree distress the Colonel, 
 who, with all his admirable qualities, had some 
 peculiarities in his character which did not re- 
 commend him so generally to strangers, as 
 those who knew and loved him best desired, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS, 177 
 
 and amongst the number of those whom it was 
 not his good fortune to please, his wealthy 
 brother-in-law was one. 
 
 " Kate," said the Colonel, "lama bold man 
 at seventy-two — I am come to carry off your 
 daughter." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed his sister, immediately 
 suspecting the real nature of the ColoneFs 
 plan — " and whither do you propose to take 
 her?" 
 
 " To the mart of all sin, vice, and iniqui- 
 ty," exclaimed Arden, "to the very Babel of 
 all human mischief — London. ? 
 
 " After such a character of the place," said 
 Louisa, " I should be almost afraid to venture, 
 uncle ." 
 
 " Afraid — you afraid !" cried the animated old 
 man, " fear nothing, my child, while I am alive 
 to guard you : I want you to see life, the world, 
 its gaieties — its follies, if you will." 
 
 " Is such a course of education necessary for 
 a girl like Louisa ?" asked Mrs. Darrenton. 
 
 " Absolutely — positively — I'll take no denial, 
 Kate." 
 
 "What has moved you to such an enterprise?" 
 asked the old lady. 
 
 i 5 
 
178 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " A desire to dissipate my property, Ma'am," 
 said her brother : " Wealth is like marl — not 
 worth a farthing while piled upon a heap, but 
 productive and profitable when scattered abroad.'' 
 
 " Surely, my dear uncle, " said the unsus- 
 pecting girl, " surely you" — 
 
 " Surely you," echoed the Colonel, " Surely 
 you don't object to my spending my own money 
 — you are my avowed heiress — I shall leave all 
 I have left to you, you young rogue — don't 
 grudge me a little enjoyment before I die." 
 
 This was an artful attack — the Colonel was 
 an old soldier and saw the vulnerable point. — 
 Louisa had nothing more to say, and her mother 
 little more to object to her proposed excursion to 
 the Metropolis with her uncle : what his sister 
 chiefly apprehended was that the eccentric, wild 
 (indeed, untamed by age) habits of the veteran, 
 unused too as she apprehended he must have 
 become to the modern manners of the fashion- 
 able world, might involve him in difficulties 
 which he did not contemplate, and perhaps 
 expose his little protegee to some unpleasant 
 adventures; however, the six-and-eightpenny 
 feeling which predominates in every class and 
 station, and upon which the cynics say every 
 action of human life is bottomed, was too strong 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FKIENDS. 179 
 
 to be resisted ; and the serious recollection that 
 Louisa was, as the old gentleman himself indeed 
 had observed, the intended heiress of all his pro- 
 perty, and that the disposition of that property 
 depended entirely upon his individual will and 
 pleasure, induced the prudent parent to with- 
 draw all opposition, and Louisa, who fondly loved 
 her uncle, and had never visited London, felt 
 no great displeasure at the announcement of her 
 mother's full and free consent to the journey. 
 
 " I have an ulterior object in all this," said 
 the Colonel to his sister, when the blushing girl 
 had left the room : " Can you guess what it is, 
 Kate?" 
 
 " I think I could surmise, George," answered 
 the lady ; " the accounts you have received of 
 your nephew are not quite satisfactory." 
 
 " Hit it, by Jove, Kate !" exclaimed the 
 veteran : " the boy is mad — ruinously mad — 
 surrounded, I am told, by absolute black-legs 
 and sharpers, the victim of their chicanery, the 
 dupe of their duplicity — I '11 put a stop to this." 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " Yes, Kate. I have a plan — a scheme — I 
 know it is to be done." 
 
 " And how ?" enquired Mrs. Darrenton* 
 
 " There's my secret — leave the developement 
 
180 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 to time. Little Loui and I must settle it all," 
 said the Colonel. 
 
 " She, poor child ! I should think will have but 
 a small share in the business," said her mother. 
 
 " Small ! — the entire — the whole — I shall be 
 the mere general in the field — I shall leave all 
 the campaign to the youngsters." 
 
 " Indeed ! brother," said Mrs. Darrenton, 
 " my poor child will w 
 
 " Save your brother's poor child, Ma'am !** 
 said Arden, " nothing on earth can rescue a 
 young man of strong feeling and high spirits 
 from ruin, but the influence of woman. Louisa 
 shall save her cousin, and have him for her 
 pains." 
 
 " If this be your plan I fear I must recal my 
 permission," said Mrs. Darrenton. 
 
 " Indeed, Mrs. Darrenton, you shall do no 
 such thing, 1 "' said the Colonel : " I am neither 
 rash nor doting — I am not new to the world." 
 
 " But she is," interrupted the anxious pa- 
 rent, " and what chance can a poor, artless, un- 
 sophisticated girl have in the reformation of a 
 town rake ?" 
 
 " Sister, he is no town rake," said the Co- 
 lonel — " that he will be one, unless the disorder 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 181 
 
 be taken at its outset, I admit ; but he is not 
 yet ruined : and as for her artlessness, her un- 
 sophistication — sister, you know nothing about 
 it — it is by such qualities, and such qualities 
 alone that your sex captivate and controul the 
 other. Look at that fine, fly-away philosopher in 
 petticoats, my Lady Frances, a shew-woman — like 
 Madam Catharina, with watchwork under her 
 hoop ! What did she do ? — she began lectur- 
 ing and tom-fooling with as great a quack as 
 herself, and off she went like a detonating ball, 
 and with as little pressing, I take it." 
 
 " But pray, let me entreat you, George, to 
 consider" — 
 
 " I tell you, Kate, I have considered, and I 
 have decided, which is more to the purpose. 
 You know how well, how truly I love both these 
 young people : they once loved each other, and 
 they shall love each other again. I'll bring 
 them together, and I don't care what I am called 
 for doing so. — I know they are made for each 
 other ; and this is the very moment when her 
 interposition may save the boy. But, hark ye, 
 sister — not a word to the girl herself — it must 
 be kept secret — it must all result from circum- 
 stances and events; and if Louisa knows any 
 
182 THE MAX OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 thing of the nature of my scheme, the whole of 
 it will be frustrated." 
 
 " But, perhaps, my dear brother," said 
 Mrs. Darrenton, " my husband will disapprove 
 of her going." 
 
 " Your husband, Kate," answered the Co- 
 lonel, " What have I to do with your hus- 
 band ? You are a very excellent person, and 
 a most affectionate sister, and your first spouse 
 and I were brother soldiers, and I had the high- 
 est regard for him; but he is dead — gone — cut 
 off — cropped — and has left my niece behind him. 
 You have married again : Darrenton is one of 
 those excellent anomalies, called, in this strange 
 country of ours, upright, downright men ; his 
 temper is as sweet as the sugar he sells; his 
 character as sound as his rum, — but he is no 
 conjuror — and moreover, has no vote in my col- 
 lege : he answers your purpose — keeps an esta- 
 blishment together, and makes you, I dare say, 
 very comfortable ; but as to his anger or plea- 
 sure touching my niece, Louisa, I don't care 
 three of his sugar-loaves ; nor will I suffer him 
 to interfere one way or the other." 
 
 " Well, my dear George," said his sister, 
 " I did not say"— 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 183 
 
 " Yes, but you did sat/, Kate, that it might 
 not be agreeable to Mr. Darrenton to part with 
 Louisa. What's that to me — he cannot marry 
 your daughter. Why spoil a match ? I 'm all 
 for matrimony: no girl should be single after 
 eighteen, if I were king." 
 
 " Why, what would you do to prevent it ?" 
 asked the old lady. 
 
 " Do ? my dear sister, never mind what I 
 would do — I 'd pass acts of Parliament — Bounty 
 bills— issue proclamations — orders in council — 
 I don't know what I would not do. But as I 
 am not king, I know what I will do, and that 
 is, please the Pix, I'll marry Louisa to her 
 cousin George. 1 "' 
 
 And upon this measure the Colonel was now 
 so perfectly decided, that not all the persuasions 
 of the world united, would have diverted him 
 from the pursuit. To Mrs. Darrenton it appeared 
 then, as in all probability it does to my reader 
 now, that a more wild and visionary plan was 
 never hit upon, but as I always say in doubtful 
 cases, time will shew. 
 
 One point, however, he carried (and, indeed, 
 amongst his own relations it was a way he had) 
 which was that Louisa was in no manner to be 
 
184 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 made acquainted with any part of the scheme, 
 that no hint was to be dropped of the possibility 
 of her meeting George — a point the more rea- 
 dily conceded by her mother, because she could 
 not quite divest herself of an apprehension that 
 the interest excited by young Arden, when a 
 boy, in the infantine heart of her daughter, still 
 existed in a certain degree. Louisa, it is true, 
 possessed too much dignity of character amidst 
 her simplicity, too much self-controul amidst her 
 gaiety, to permit this feeling, even had she ac- 
 knowledged it, to display itself; yet sure it is, 
 that when she heard of the abrupt termination 
 of George's affair with Lady Frances, she did 
 not feel dissatisfied, and when the summons to 
 London was sounded by her uncle, her antici- 
 pations of the objects which she was to see in 
 the Metropolis, were not unmixed with a wish, 
 that her cousin George might be amongst the 
 number. 
 
 Amongst the ColonePs striking characteristics 
 were decision and promptitude — he had the 
 " halt, left wheel" spirit of his youth still strong 
 upon him in age, and had no notions of needless 
 delays and useless arrangements. Two hours 
 only were allowed Louisa to prepare for the 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 18.5 
 
 forced march — a rapidity which I can the more 
 easily account for in the present instance, than 
 in some others: seeing, first, that the Colonel 
 was anxious to reach the Metropolis as speedily 
 as possible; and secondly, that having no re- 
 spect for the calling or intellect of Mr. Darren- 
 ton, (who was, nevertheless, an intelligent opulent 
 Liverpool merchant,) his chief anxiety was to 
 escape from that gentleman's residence with his 
 prize, without what he considered the misery of 
 an interview with a man whose occupation he 
 undervalued, and for whose intellectual qualities 
 he had the most unmixed contempt. With all 
 these motives to action, there mingled an ap- 
 prehension that her father-in-law might seriously 
 object to his niece's departure ; so that to those 
 who know the old gentleman as well as I do, 
 it will not appear strange, that before sunset, 
 he and his fair charge— his man and her maid, 
 were all snugly disposed for the night at the 
 Black Lion Inn, at Congleton, on their way to 
 town. 
 
 By one of those happy coincidences, which 
 every day occur, the evening succeeding the 
 day upon which Arden and his niece arrived in 
 London, had been fixed by George for a splen- 
 
186 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 did masquerade. Somebody had told him that 
 masquerades were now as perfectly exploded in 
 decent society, as powder for ladies and two 
 pronged forks ; his ambition was therefore ex- 
 cited, and his resolution taken to attempt the 
 revival of a species of entertainment once so 
 fashionable : the truth is, that in the days when 
 masquerades flourished, women of quality con- 
 sidered it necessary to hide their faces when they 
 mixed in bad society — but now, that flagrant vice 
 sits barefaced in the gay saloon, and crowds of 
 wives and daughters undisguised, participate in 
 the fruits of acknowledged prostitution, proclaim- 
 ing by their presence the triumph of guilty 
 affluence over principle and propriety; masks 
 are useless. It is true that George's house and 
 establishment had acquired that sort of reputa- 
 tion, which rendered it as well for modest fe- 
 males to appear there incognita, and this know- 
 ledge added to the wonderful exertions of his 
 friends upon the occasion ; a magnificent enter- 
 tainment was anticipated. 
 
 To this entertainment old Arden meant to 
 go, and take his niece — a measure which he was 
 happily enabled to accomplish without suspicion, 
 his attorney having received tickets from his 
 nephew for the fete. It was to the house of this 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 187 
 
 attorney (situated in Montague Place, near Rus- 
 sell Square) that the old gentleman and Louisa 
 immediately proceeded on their arrival in town : 
 it was there they were received by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Abberly, its master and mistress, with the 
 most cordial warmth and unfeigned pleasure. 
 
 The Abberlys were at dinner when their guests 
 arrived, the guests themselves having dined early 
 to please the old gentleman at some distance 
 from the Metropolis. The meal was speedily 
 finished, and the dessert put down, and Arden, 
 who, as the reader may imagine, was most anxious 
 to hear tidings of his misguided nephew, com- 
 menced a series of enquiries upon the interest- 
 ing subject, when Mrs. Abberly interrupted the 
 conversation by asking her husband " just to 
 ring the bell." 
 
 This request having been complied with, a 
 servant appeared, to whom his mistress whis- 
 pered, " Tell Dawes to bring the children : v 
 the man disappeared, and the lady, turning to 
 Louisa, with one of those sweet smiles which 
 ladies about to praise themselves are in the habit 
 of putting on, said, " We are very old-fashioned 
 folks, Miss Neville. Mr. A. and myself make it 
 a rule to have all the children round us every 
 day after dinner— some people don't like it, but 
 
188 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 I hope and trust we shall never be so fashion- 
 able as that comes to." 
 
 Miss Neville was about to rejoin something 
 very laudatory, touching infantine attraction 
 and maternal affection, when a considerable up- 
 roar and squalling was heard in the hall, and 
 the parlour door flying open, Dawes made her 
 appearance, attended by seven fine healthy crea- 
 tures, varying in their height from four feet two, 
 to two feet four, and in their ages from ten to 
 three years. Chairs were ranged around the 
 table for the young fry, who were extremely 
 orderly and well-behaved for a short time, and 
 in the first instance taken to the Colonel to be 
 praised : the old gentleman, who was not parti- 
 cularly fond of nestlings at any time, but whose 
 whole heart and soul were at the present moment 
 occupied in the affairs of his prodigal nephew, 
 kissed one and patted the other, and " blessed 
 the little heart" of this one, and " pretty deared" 
 that one, until the ceremony of inspection and 
 approbation having been fully gone through, 
 the whole party was turned over to Louisa, to 
 undergo a second similar operation ; after this, 
 they were placed upon the chairs assigned to 
 them, Dawes retired, and the conversation was 
 resumed. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 189 
 
 i( And pray now," said the Colonel, " what 
 is your real opinion, Mr. Abberly, of the state 
 of poor George's pecuniary affairs ?" 
 
 " Sir," said Abberly, " I really think, if you 
 wish me to speak candidly — Maria, my dear, 
 look at Georgina, — she is spilling all the sugar 
 over the table." 
 
 " Georgina," said Mrs. Abberly, emphatically, 
 " keep still, child ; Sophy, help your sister to 
 some sugar." 
 
 " I really believe," continued Mr. Abberly, 
 " that Mr. George Arden — Sophy, put down that 
 knife— Maria, that child will cut her fingers off, 
 how can you let her do so — I wonder at you — 
 upon my word, Sophy, I am quite ashamed of 
 your 
 
 " Sophy, you naughty girl," cried her Mam- 
 ma, " put down that knife, directly, or I '11 send 
 you up-stairs." 
 
 " I was only cutting the cake, Ma," said Sophy. 
 
 " Don't do it again, then, and sit still," 
 exclaimed the mother; and turning to Louisa, 
 added in an under-tone, " pretty dears, it is so 
 difficult to keep them quiet at that age." 
 
 ;s Well, Sir," again said the Colonel, " but 
 let me beg you to tell me seriously what you 
 advise then to be done in the first instance." 
 
190 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Why, there is but one course, 11 answered 
 the lawyer, who was a man of first-rate talent; 
 " you know, Sir, there are different modes of 
 treating different cases, but in this instance the 
 course, I think, is clear and evident — Tom, you 
 naughty child, you "11 be down; get off the back 
 of Colonel Arden's chair directly." 
 
 " What a funny pig-tail, 11 exclaimed some- 
 body, in reference to a minute article of that 
 sort worn by the Colonel. Sophy laughed and 
 slapped her brothers shoulder. 
 
 " Hush, William, 11 exclaimed Mrs. Abberly, 
 holding up her hand in a menacing posture. 
 
 " And that course," continued the master of 
 the house, " if there be a chance yet left of pre- 
 serving the young man, it will be absolutely 
 necessary to pursue. 11 
 
 " Tell me, then, for God's sake," said the 
 Colonel, deeply interested, and highly agi- 
 tated, " what you propose should be our first 
 measure. 1 ' 
 
 " George, my love, 11 exclaimed Mrs. Abber- 
 ly to her husband, " will you be good enough 
 to speak to Robert, he won^ leave Sophy 
 alone, and he don't mind me the least in the 
 world. 11 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 191 
 
 " Robert, be quiet," thundered out his father 
 in an awful tone. 
 
 " She won't give me any cherries, Pa," said 
 Robert. 
 
 " That's a story, now, Robert," cried the 
 eldest girl, who was nearly ten years old, and 
 was screwed in, and poked out, to look like 
 a woman; with curls, and a necklace, and a 
 dress exactly like her mother's, who was forty. 
 
 " I 'm sure you have had more than Sophy — 
 only you are such a rude boy." 
 
 " Bless my heart !" said the Colonel, half aside, 
 and warming a little with the events, " I beg 
 your pardon, what did you say you would 
 advise, Mr. Abberly ?" 
 
 " Decidedly this," said Abberly, " I " 
 
 " My love," interrupted Mrs. Abberly once 
 more, " is that port or claret, near you ? Dr. 
 Mango says Maria is to have half a glass of port 
 wine every day after dinner, this hot weather, — 
 half a glass — thank you — there — not more — 
 that will do, dear ;" — here Mr. Abberly had 
 concluded the operation of pouring out. " Tom," 
 said Mamma, " go and fetch the wine for your 
 sister, there 's a dear love." 
 
 Tom did as he was bid, tripped his toe over 
 
192 THE MAN OF MANY FltlENDS. 
 
 the corner of the rug in passing round the 
 table, and deposited the major part of the port 
 wine in the lap of Miss Louisa Neville, who was 
 habited in an apple-green silk pelisse, (which 
 she had not taken off since her arrival,) that 
 was by no means improved in its appearance 
 by the accidental reception of the contents of 
 Miss Maria's glass. 
 
 " Good God! Tom," exclaimed Mrs. Abberly, 
 " what an awkward child you are ! — dear Miss 
 Neville, what shall we do? — ring the bell, Sophy, 
 send for Simmons, or send for Miss Neville's 
 maid — Miss Neville pray take off your pelisse. 1 ' 
 
 "Oh, I assure you it is not of the slight- 
 est consequence," said Louisa, with one of her 
 sweetest smiles, at the same moment wishing 
 Tom had been at the bottom of the Red Sea 
 before he had given her the benefit of his gati- 
 cherie ; a stain upon a silk dress being, as every 
 body knows, at all times and seasons a feminine 
 aggravation of the first class. 
 
 Tom, anticipating a beating from some quar- 
 ter, but which, he did not stop to calculate, set 
 up a most mellifluous howling; this awakened 
 from its peaceful slumbers a fat poodle, who 
 had been reposing after a hearty dinner beneath 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 393 
 
 the table, and who forthwith commenced a most 
 terrific barking. 
 
 " Be quiet, Tom," said Mr. Abberly,— " Ma- 
 ria, my angel, do keep the children still." 
 
 " Ma," exclaimed Maria junior, " I 'm not 
 to lose my wine, — am I Pa?" 
 
 " No, my love, to be sure," said Abberly ; 
 " Come here and fetch it yourself, my darling." 
 
 " She had better drink it there, Mr. A.," said 
 the prudent mother. 
 
 And accordingly, under the surveillance of his 
 wife, who kept watching him as to the exact 
 quantity, periodically cautioning him with — there, 
 my love —there, my dear — that will do — no more, 
 my love, &c. — Mr. A. as she Bloomsburily called 
 him, poured out another half glass of port 
 wine, as prescribed by Doctor Mango, for his 
 daughter. 
 
 Old Arden, whose patience was nearly ex- 
 hausted, and who thought that Mrs. Abberly 
 was, like Lady Cork's chairs upon state occa- 
 sions, screwed to her place, sought what he con- 
 sidered a favourable "lull," as the sailors call it, 
 to endeavour to ascertain what Abberly's plan 
 for the redemption of his nephew actually was, 
 and had just wound himself into an interroga- 
 
 vol. i. K 
 
194 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 tive shape, when Mrs. Abberly called his atten- 
 tion by observing, " that a certain little lady," 
 looking very archly at Miss Maria, "wanted 
 very much to let him hear how well she could 
 repeat a little poem without book." 
 
 Mrs. Abberly had prepared Louisa for this, by 
 whispering to her, that such exhibitions created 
 emulation in the nursery, and that Dawes was a 
 very superior person, and with Miss Gubbins, 
 (who was quite invaluable,) brought them on 
 delightfully. 
 
 " 1 shall be charmed, Ma'am," said the Colo- 
 nel, heaving a sigh. And accordingly the child 
 stood up at his side, and began that beautiful 
 bit of Barbauldism so extremely popular in the 
 lower forms of preparatory schools, called " The 
 Beggar's Petition." Arden could not, however, 
 suppress a significant ejaculation, quite intelli- 
 gible to his niece, when the dear little Maria, 
 smelling of soap and bread and butter, with her 
 shoulders pushed back, her head stuck up, and 
 her clavicula? developed like drum-sticks, squeak- 
 ed out the opening line — 
 
 " Pity the sorrows of a poor old man." 
 
 M Ah !" — exclaimed Arden, at the same time 
 pushing back his chair and twirling his thumbs. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 195 
 
 " Pity the sorrows of a poor old man," 
 
 continued the sweet innocent, 
 
 " Whose trembling limbs has bore him to oo door, 
 Whose dace are dwilden'd to is sortest pan, 
 Oh " 
 
 " Give relief," 
 said Mrs. Abberly. 
 
 " Give a leaf," 
 said the child, 
 
 " And Heaven" — 
 continued Mrs. Abberly. 
 
 " Give a leaf and Heaven" — 
 
 repeated Maria, 
 
 "And|Heaven"— 
 
 " Well, what's next ?" said Mr. Abberly. 
 
 "Give a leaf and Heaven, well what's next?" 
 
 said the child. 
 
 " No, my dear love," said her papa, patting 
 her little head, — 
 
 " Heav'n will bless your store." 
 
 Why you said it yesterday, my darling, without 
 missing a single word.'" 
 
 "Heav'n — will bless your store." 
 said the child. 
 
 " Now that 's all learnt from the book, Colo- 
 nel, v said Mrs. Abberly, " not by rote !" 
 k 2 
 
196 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Very pretty indeed, Ma'am," said the Co- 
 lonel, " very clever !" 
 
 " Ah ! but there are six more verses, Sir," 
 said Sophy ; " she only knows three, —I can 
 say 'em all !" 
 
 " That you can't," said Tom; " I can say 
 'em better than you ; besides, I can say all 
 about < The Black-beetle's Ball, 1 and 4 The Bull 
 and the Watering-pot.' " 
 
 " Oh, you story-teller, Tom P 
 
 ie I can," said Tom ; " you may go and ask 
 Miss Gubbins if I can't." 
 
 " I know you can't Tom, and Miss Gub- 
 bins said so only yesterday," replied Sophy. 
 
 " Hush, hush, my dears !" said the master of 
 the house, "never mind who says that; you 
 know you are older than Tom, my love. Pray 
 Colonel,'" said the fond father, turning to the 
 agitated old man, " do you think Sophy grows 
 like her mother ?" 
 
 " Very like indeed," said the Colonel ; at the 
 same moment patting Master Robert on the 
 head, who happened to be standing by him, 
 playing with his watch-chain and seals; — the 
 merry-andrew dresses of the younger branches 
 of the family not very distinctly marking the 
 difference in their sexes. 
 
the man of many friends. 197 
 
 About this period the Colonel, who was on 
 the point of despair, observed, that he thought 
 Louisa had better go and change her dress, 
 hoping that a move on her part would induce 
 the mistress of the house to carry off her troop 
 of chickens. Nor was he wrong in his expecta- 
 tions, although the operation was not so speedily 
 effected as he had imagined. The ceremonies of 
 re-ringing the bell, re-summoning the servant, 
 re-ordering Dawes, were all to be performed in 
 detail, and were accordingly gone through, with 
 that sort of mechanical precision, which proved 
 beyond a doubt, that it was, as Mrs. Abberly 
 had said, " their constant custom in the after- 
 noon" to parade their promising progeny after 
 dinner. 
 
 The various fidgettings and twistings of old 
 Arden, whose age and disposition militated con- 
 siderably against any thing like a restraint upon 
 his feelings, and whose manner generally indi- 
 cated the workings of his mind, had not escaped 
 the observation of Mrs. Abberly, who saw with 
 a mother's eye that " the Colonel was not fond 
 of children." It was highly complimentary to 
 her perception upon this point, that the old gen- 
 tleman whispered in a sort of mingled agony and 
 triumph to Louisa as she passed him, in leaving 
 
198 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 the dinner-parlour with all the young fry, 
 " Oh, for the days of good King Herod." 
 This fatal speech was overheard by Mrs. Ab- 
 berly, and when the exemplary parent was con- 
 fiding to the trusty Dawes the little community, 
 whose appetites for supper had been sharpened 
 by the fruits, sugars, wines, creams, and sweet- 
 cakes, with which they had been crammed after 
 dinner, she observed to that trusty servant, 
 " that Colonel Arden was next door to a 
 brute." Of such tender stuff is maternity com- 
 posed, and so strongly is implanted in the fe- 
 male breast, that exquisite tenderness for its 
 offspring which, however liable at times to cari- 
 cature, is at once the sweetest attribute of the 
 lovely sex which invariably displays it, and one 
 of the greatest blessings bestowed on man. 
 
 " Well, and now," said Colonel Arden as the 
 door closed, — " will you do me the favour, Mr. 
 Abberly, to let me a little into your plans for 
 George ?" 
 
 The answer, though upon the learned law- 
 yer's lips, was not given, when Tom returned to 
 the parlour to fetch Billy, the before-named pet- 
 dog of the establishment ; who, though he could 
 hardly walk, was forced to run and seem frisky, 
 and who, half killed by kindness, was miscalled 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 199 
 
 a sweet creature by the younger branches of the 
 family. Billy always supped with the children, 
 and was now summoned to the accustomed meal. 
 
 After a certain degree of hunting and poking 
 under the table, the animal was extricated from 
 his retirement, and peace being again restored, 
 the Colonel put the same question to his host, 
 in a different shape, as to his nephew's affairs. 
 
 The answers he obtained were any thing but 
 satisfactory, and it clearly appeared that George 
 was not his own master — that he was actually 
 in the trammels of those, whom he supported 
 and cherished ; and that while his servants, (and 
 particularly his prime minister, who was a noto- 
 rious rogue,) were carrying on their depredations 
 in the domestic part of his establishment, his 
 friends themselves were fattening on the spoils 
 of his fortune ; and that every means had al- 
 ready been resorted to, to keep up appearances, 
 and procure such supplies of ready money, as 
 were absolutely necessary to discharge debts of 
 honour, which, to George's infinite mortification, 
 most rapidly accumulated upon him ; in fact, 
 the harpies by whom he was environed, first 
 won of him unfairly, and then were kind enough 
 to raise the money for him, to pay themselves, 
 at the most exorbitant rate of usury : and there 
 
200 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 he was, bewildered and besotted by a constant 
 perseverance in nightly profligacy, unable, as his 
 companions persuaded him, to extricate himself 
 from a course of life, which his own good sense 
 would have told him was at once destructive 
 and disreputable. 
 
 The more the Colonel heard of the case, the 
 more confirmed he was in the excellence of the 
 plan he had laid ; he frankly told Abberly that 
 he was quite convinced that appeals from an 
 old man to a young one, upon such subjects as 
 these, were vain and useless, and that the 
 scheme he had in his head was not one of mere 
 theories— but as to what it was, that he still 
 kept a profound secret, and even the principal 
 performer (next to himself) was not aware what 
 her part in the play was to be. She listened 
 with pleasure when George was spoken of, and 
 heard with pain, from Mrs. Abberly, of his wild- 
 ness and extravagance. That she inquired with 
 any personal motive or interested view, whether 
 he was likely to marry, or that she heard that 
 no such event was in agitation with any peculiar 
 degree of satisfaction, I know not ; but this I do 
 know, that when Mrs. Abberly added to her in- 
 formation upon the subject, the interrogatory — 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 201 
 
 ?c Why la, Miss Neville, who would have him ?"" 
 Louisa felt her heart beat, and a sudden flush 
 warm her cheek, as if she herself could have an- 
 swered the question very decidedly, had it been 
 put to her by any person duly authorized. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had the conversation taken 
 this interesting turn, before the senior four 
 children re-appeared in the drawing-room, ac- 
 companied by Miss Gubbins, (their governess,) 
 who always drank tea and spent the evening with 
 the family, after the toils of the day were over. 
 
 The first operation to be performed after the 
 arrival of the party was, the execution, literally, 
 of a duet upon the piano-forte, by Miss Gubbins 
 and her pupil Sophy, which was hardly con- 
 cluded before Mr. Abberly (who, in the dinner- 
 parlour of his Montague-Place house, had heard 
 the jingle of the instrument, and immediately 
 proposed removing to the drawing-room ;) en- 
 tered, accompanied by the Colonel, to whom 
 Mrs. Abberly's manner was greatly altered since 
 she had heard the avowal of his dislike to chil- 
 dren — indeed, she went so far as to suggest to 
 her husband, Mr. A., the immediate removal of 
 the young people from the apartment, as she 
 was sure they worried Colonel Arden. 
 k5 
 
202 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Not they, my dear Mrs. Abberly, 11 said the 
 old man, good-naturedly; " I love children to 
 my very heart, I assure you, and would have 
 them treated with every care and kindness, and 
 attention ; but there are seasons when even the 
 most agreeable things become tiresome ; and you 
 will, I am sure, excuse me, if I did not express 
 all I thought of your dear little ones, after din- 
 ner, when you recollect how deeply I was inte- 
 rested at the moment in the fate of a child, 
 who, if older in years, appears to me little 
 their senior in worldly wisdom, and who, in ad- 
 dition to difficulties at their age, has unfortu- 
 nately the means and power of doing mischief 
 to himself and others. 11 
 
 Mrs. Abberly was greatly soothed by this 
 speech; and felt almost pleased with the Colo- 
 nel, when he called her favourite Tom (with- 
 out exception the rudest and stupidest boy in 
 Christendom) and placing him paternally at his 
 side, began to question him on sundry topics 
 usually resorted to upon similar occasions. 
 From this promising lad the old gentleman 
 learned that four and four make nine, that 
 William the Conqueror was the last of the Ro- 
 man Emperors, that gunpowder was invented 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 203 
 
 by Guy Fawkes, and that the first man who 
 went up in an air-balloon was Christopher Co- 
 lumbus. In the extreme accuracy of these 
 answers, he received a satisfactory corrobora- 
 tion of his constant remark upon the edu- 
 cation of boys at home, under the superin- 
 tendance of mammas and governesses, and had 
 dismissed his young friend with an approving 
 compliment, when the boy wishing to shew that 
 he knew more than the old man thought for, 
 looked him in the face, and asked him, who lived 
 next door to him ? 
 
 " Next door to me, my fine fellow, 1 ' said the 
 Colonel, " why, nobody ; that is to say, I live 
 in the country far from any other house — my 
 next neighbour is Lord Malephant." 
 
 " Ah r said Tom, " and is he a brute, Sir ?" 
 
 " No, my dear," answered the Colonel ; " he 
 is an excellent man, and one of my oldest 
 friends." 
 
 " Ah, then," said the boy, " who lives on 
 the other side of you ?" 
 
 " Why, my neighbour on the other side," 
 said the Colonel, surprised at the apparently 
 unnatural inquisitiveness of the child, " is the 
 rector of my parish." 
 
204 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Is he a brute, Sir," enquired Master Ab- 
 berly. 
 
 " No y my dear, 1 ' said the Colonel; "a pattern 
 for country clergymen— never did there exist a 
 better man." 
 
 " Ah !" said Tom, evidently disappointed. 
 
 " Why do you ask ?" said his father. 
 
 " I don't know," replied the boy. 
 
 " You should never ask questions, child, 
 without knowing why," said papa. 
 
 " I do know why, only I shan't tell," said Tom. 
 
 " I desire you will, Tom," said his parent, 
 anticipating a display of that precocious wit, for 
 which the dunderheaded ass was so celebrated 
 in his own family. 
 
 " Oh, I '11 tell it, if you like ! it 's only because 
 I wanted to know which of them gentlemen was 
 brutes," said the boy. 
 
 " Why? my fine fellow," said the Colonel, 
 whose curiosity was whetted by the oddity of 
 the questions. 
 
 u Why," replied Tom, " because when Mam- 
 ma was talking to Dawes just now, about you, 
 she said you was next door to a brute, and so I 
 wanted to know who he was."'' 
 
 This was the signal for general consternation ; 
 Miss Gubbins hemmed loud, and tumbled over 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 205 
 
 the music, which lay on the piano — the eldest 
 girl laughed outright — Mr. Abberly threatened 
 to whip his son and heir — Mrs. Abberly turned 
 as red as scarlet, and endeavoured to convince 
 Miss Neville of the utter groundlessness of the 
 charge against her, and proclaimed the whole 
 affair to be a new instance of Tom's precocious 
 archness, and a mere application of his own, at 
 the moment, of some story which he had heard 
 some other person tell. 
 
 The Colonel, however, joined so good hu- 
 mouredly in a laugh with his niece, at the nai- 
 vete of the boy, and bore the attack with so 
 much kindness, that Mrs. Abberly, whatever 
 she might have previously thought or said 
 upon the subject, set the old gentleman down 
 as a " dear kind creature," and continued prais- 
 ing him periodically through the evening to 
 Miss Neville. The dear kind creature himself, 
 however, was insensible to her praise, as he had 
 before been callous to her censure : he had but 
 one object, not only in his visit to London, but 
 in existence, which was the rescue of George 
 from impending perdition ; which object, and the 
 mode in which he proposed to attain to it, made 
 all else seem " flat, stale, and unprofitable/' 
 Whether the feeling of deep interest for this 
 
206 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 hare-brained youth were infectious, or whether 
 her proximity to her early playmate, excited in 
 Louisa's breast similar feelings to those of her 
 uncle on the subject, I am unable to say; but to 
 a girl of her penetration and discernment, it soon 
 became evident that it was neither the vice, nor 
 the gaiety, nor the society, nor the sights of 
 London, which had drawn her uncle from his 
 green morocco chair, and forced her from her 
 watchful mother's side: — the whole object of the 
 expedition was George, and his preservation 
 from ruin. How she was to become instrumental 
 in the great undertaking, she had no precise 
 idea, but the conversation in which she had 
 been engaged with Mrs. Abberly after dinner 
 threw some light upon the affair, and the highly- 
 wrought description of the prodigal's dissipation 
 and involvements, instead of rousing any bitter 
 or angry feeling in the young lady's bosom, 
 excited that sort of confusion and compassion 
 which, had they been evident to others, would 
 have looked more like the revival of long dor- 
 mant love, than so prudent a personage as 
 Miss Neville would have wished to be charged 
 with. 
 
 Whatever might have been the deliberations 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 207 
 
 of the Colonel and Mr. Abberly, who, when 
 his sweet family were gone to their repose, 
 gave his client the full benefit of his advice, 
 far different were the consultations held in 
 Grosvenor Street under the personal inspection 
 of Noel and Dyson : the floors were splendidly 
 chalked for dancing, mock flowers were taught 
 to twine round marble columns, and lights to 
 spring spontaneously from boughs of trees, — 
 odoriferous shrubs in full bloom lined the 
 great staircase ; in one corner of the hall was a 
 stage erected for French jugglers; in the din- 
 ner parlour, a band for waltzes; in the draw- 
 ing-room, Colinet and his troop, for quadrilles ; 
 while temporary supper-rooms spread their can- 
 vass over the garden at the back of the house, 
 and, adorned with every thing to delight the 
 eye and gratify the palate, presented to the mot- 
 ley group assembled the most beautiful coup- 
 d'ail imaginable. 
 
 To this magnificent fete, under the care of 
 Mrs. Abberly and her uncle, the unsophisticated 
 Louisa proceeded ; there she beheld the prodigal 
 in all his state and glory, surrounded by his 
 friends — his house crowded, his tables groaning 
 under delicacies, the sounds of music, the glare 
 
208 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS, 
 
 of lights, the sweet odours of exotics, and 
 the smoking incense which curled amongst 
 the artificial wreaths, the loud laugh of the 
 character-masques, the silly nothingnesses of the 
 dominos, all burst upon Louisa's astonished 
 senses, and the picture which she had painted 
 to herself of dissipation, and the grosser vices 
 of libertinism, in which she had imagined 
 George to be immersed, were at once changed 
 to rapture, and admiration of his excellent taste 
 and liberality ; and fascinated by all she saw 
 around her, she found ten thousand excuses in 
 a moment for his extravagance and thought- 
 lessness. She beheld him sought and courted, and 
 when supper was announced, he led to the ban- 
 quet women of the first class of blood and beauty 
 — even Royalty honoured the banquet ; and to 
 Louisa's eye,'accustomed as she was upon principle 
 to venerate and respect any branch of the reign- 
 ing House, the difference between exalted station 
 when adorned by talent and accomplishments, 
 and when alloyed by silliness and meanness, 
 did not strike her as it would have stricken an 
 adept in society. He was a prince— and of the 
 blood; and as he smirked and simpered and 
 asked his needless questions, and talked his 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FKIENDS. 209 
 
 ordinary nonsense, she watched him, " an though 
 he were a derai-god I" 
 
 My readers are, perhaps, not yet aware that 
 old Arden had gone one step farther in his 
 scheming than prudence or perhaps delicacy 
 would sanction. When the affair of Lady Frances 
 was completely finished, he had in a letter to 
 George thrown out, not any hints about the 
 suitableness of a match with his fair cousin, but 
 a general observation that he had in his eye a 
 most amiable and lovely person, whom he was 
 certain, was calculated to make him perfectly and 
 entirely happy. To this suggestion the young 
 man, perhaps soured by the infidelity of her lady- 
 ship, or it might be resolved never again to trust 
 to the frailty of woman, returned a general and 
 sweeping reply, by stating his determination not 
 to marry, to have been absolutely and definitive- 
 ly made. 
 
 The Colonel was quite aware that to press the 
 point, at that moment, was not the likely mode 
 to carry it ; and therefore permitted this violent 
 and decided rejection of his proposal to remain 
 unanswered and unnoticed. 
 
 The Colonel was delighted under all these 
 circumstances, when, keeping his own close dis- 
 
 VOL. i. k 9 
 
210 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 guise, and engaging the Abberleys to do the 
 same, he requested Louisa to unmask. The 
 old gentleman wished to see the effect produced 
 upon his nephew by her exquisite beauty — a 
 beauty rendered more brilliant by its freshness. 
 Unlike the poor dancing girls of Almacks, who, 
 before the season is three parts over, are jaded, 
 and worn, and haggard, and thin, and so com- 
 pletely pulled down from excess of gaiety, that 
 even their hair has not strength to curl : here 
 was a creature with lips ruby red, and eyes 
 sparkling bright, the sweet glow of youthful 
 health beaming on her cheek, and with a 
 manner new, naive, unhackneyed, and un- 
 like the common every-day manual and platoon 
 exercise of waltzing and looking, which to a 
 man of the world either means nothing, or 
 means something which it ought not to mean. 
 But Louisa could not be prevailed upon to give 
 him this advantage : he was caught even as it 
 was, by her voice, and figure, and manner ; and 
 although she still held his unknown uncle's arm, 
 he addressed his fair visitor just as the group 
 were taking their leave— 
 
 " Surely," said George, with an air of 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 211 
 
 winning softness, " I may be permitted to know 
 whom I have the pleasure of addressing ?" 
 
 " Not for all the world !" said Louisa. 
 
 " Who is this queer-looking gentleman in 
 his grey domino," asked George, " who haunts 
 your steps so closely ? — a watchful guardian or 
 an anxious uncle V 
 
 " Both," said Miss Neville, archly. 
 
 " Let me entreat," added Arden ; and was 
 proceeding to increase his intimacy by taking 
 the fair one's hand, and endeavouring to raise 
 the curtain of her mask, when the Colonel, 
 drawing her closer to his side, precipitately 
 retired from the room. 
 
 The impression made by either of these young 
 people on the other was extraordinary. Louisa, 
 who had seen George unmasked, made no scru- 
 ple on their return homewards to speak her 
 thoughts of her former play fellow; she abso- 
 lutely raved about his taste, eulogized his man- 
 ners, and in short, elated as she was by the gaie- 
 ty and novelty of the scene, became enthusiastic 
 in his praise. 
 
 The Colonel, who was not particularly dis- 
 pleased at this avowal of her approbation of his 
 
212 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS, 
 
 nephew, philosophized upon the wastefulness 
 of his expenditure, and supported by the lugu- 
 brious anticipations of Mr. Abberly, for whom 
 Louisa had suddenly conceived the most violent 
 dislike, set it down that George was a ruined 
 man, and that speedy measures, if any, must be 
 taken for his redemption. 
 
 Meanwhile George was perfectly enraptured 
 with his fair cousin's air and manner ; and if his 
 uncle had not purposely taken the precaution of 
 using a hired carriage for the evening, his emis- 
 saries, who were neither few nor inactive, would 
 have doubtlessly discovered the name, quality, 
 and residence of the lovely creature. 
 
 " I could swear,' 1 said George to Dyson, 
 when the house was cleared of visitors, " that 
 that creature of whose bright eyes I only caught 
 a glimpse through her masque, is the " 
 
 " The most abominable dowdy in Lon- 
 don," interrupted Dyson. " Come, George, 
 rely upon it, it is rather too late in life and in 
 the morning, too, for you and me to sit up sigh- 
 ing out romances in real life — this interesting af- 
 fair of beauty in an eclipse and love at first 
 sight, or rather at no sight at all, won't do." 
 
 " What's the hour ?" said George. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 213 
 
 ce Past six," answered his friend ; " so go : 
 sleep off your sorrow, and I and Wilson will 
 settle the order of the day." 
 
 " By the way," said George, " we have some- 
 thing particular for to-day." 
 
 " Particular !" answered Dyson, " Indeed 
 have we — there's the Fives Court at one— at four 
 the dear Countess — 'gad how she did eat, this 
 last past night of her joyous life." 
 
 " And drink too," interrupted George. 
 
 " She never refuses Roman punch," observed 
 Dyson, " I never saw a freerer creature in that 
 line in my life: to be sure she is dreadfully 
 under-rated; her cousin they say is a tallow- 
 chandler; and, upon my life, I never sit near 
 her but I fancy I smell the moulds." 
 
 " Hang the moulds!" said George: " she is 
 good-natured and / like her." 
 
 " The good-nature arises from her good set of 
 teeth," said Dyson : " if ever you want laughers, 
 George, to make up a party, study the ivory. 
 Be sure your guests have good teeth, and they'll 
 laugh at the worst story of a dinner-going wit, 
 rather than not shew the * white and even.' 
 Never mind; at four we go to the Countess, at 
 six we try a new off-leader, at seven I have a 
 
214 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 short call to make in the New Road, and at 
 eight we all dine here. After that, trust to 
 chance : by the way, George, before you go to 
 bed, I'll trouble you to lend me a couple of 
 hundred pounds." 
 
 " To be sure," said George, turning to his 
 prime minister, who was waiting ; " Wilson, let 
 Mr. Dyson have what he wants." 
 
 " Sir!" exclaimed Wilson. 
 
 " Don't scold me, Mr. Wilson," said his mas- 
 ter : " My friend Dyson must not be refused ; 
 so good night, most worthy Arthur. Saying 
 which the master of the house retired to rest, 
 escorted by his body-servant, Monsieur Duval. 
 
 " Now, Wilson," said Mr. Dyson, " the money 
 if you please, at your earliest convenience." 
 
 " Money, sir ?" said Wilson. 
 
 " Yes, money, Mr. Wilson," repeated the 
 young worthy ; " why, you stare as if I asked 
 you to pay the national debt , I only want you 
 to give me two poor hundreds of pounds." 
 
 " I could do the one as easily as the other," 
 answered the man. 
 
 "Why, you keep your master's purse, Mr. 
 Wilson ?" 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 215 
 
 " I do, sir," said Wilson, " but in these days 
 of public retrenchment, I quite am ashamed of 
 the office, for it is a sinecure." 
 
 " What, low water, Mr. Wilson?" 
 
 " Worse, sir," answered Wilson, " dry as 
 dust." 
 
 " That information," said Dyson, " comes most 
 inopportunely just now, the whole of my estate 
 lies under my hat, and there are several mort- 
 gages even on that property ; and as to borrow- 
 ing, there is not a money-lender from A. B. 
 at Knightsbridge, to X. Y. Z. at Whitecha- 
 pel, who would advance me six pence : how- 
 ever, to-morrow may bring us something, Mr. 
 Wilson, and in the mean time I'll follow the 
 example of my excellent host, and betake myself 
 to my slumbers." 
 
 And accordingly Mr. Dyson departed to his 
 chamber: and thus it really was, that at the 
 moment when upwards of twelve hundred pounds 
 had been expended upon the idle mummery 
 of an unmeaning masquerade, the donor of the 
 fSte neither had himself, nor could command, 
 two hundred pounds upon the face of the earth. 
 Indeed, Wilson, who was a most admirable 
 
216 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 contriver — for himself, had managed so ex- 
 tremely well, that he was amongst the principal 
 of his master's creditors, and upon the know- 
 ledge of this fact, founded that independence of 
 manner, conduct, and conversation, which were so 
 evident to all the by-standers, whenever any dis- 
 cussion took place between him and his master. 
 
 Little, however, did the dormant establish- 
 ment of Grosvenor Street anticipate that, which 
 was on the eve of occurring, and least of all did 
 George suspect that his house and fete had been 
 visited by his uncle, whom, under the tuition of 
 his numerous and exemplary friends, he had 
 been taught for some time past to consider an 
 " old fool," " a miser," an antediluvian, and al- 
 most a madman. 
 
 Soon was this fact, however, to burst upon his 
 bewildered senses; and the second succeeding 
 day, so soon as old Arden had completed his ar- 
 rangements for removing from Abberly's happy 
 domestic circle, in the equivocal elegance of 
 Montague Place, into an hotel nearer his ne- 
 phew's house, and the civilized part of the 
 town, he betook himself to the mansion which 
 he had previously visited en masque. He 
 knocked at the door, which was opened by a 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 217 
 
 half-slumbering, half-surly porter, and enquired 
 if Mr. Arden were at home ? — " No," was the 
 answer. The Colonel pressed the enquiry more 
 earnestly, and Wilson, who happened acciden- 
 tally to be crossing the hall, was attracted by 
 the sternness of the demand, and immediately 
 conjuring the old gentleman into an importu- 
 nate creditor, thought it his bounden duty to 
 bring the small artillery of his personal impu- 
 dence to the aid of the heavy ordnance of the 
 fat porter's sulkiness. 
 
 w Who do you want ?" said Wilson. 
 " Mr. George Arden, Sir," said the Colonel. 
 " He is not at home," answered Wilson. 
 u Are you sure ?" 
 " Quite." 
 
 " I understood from Mr. Abberly, 1 ' said the 
 Colonel, " that I should find him, if I called 
 at this time of the day." 
 
 The word Abberly acted like a charm upon 
 the ear of Wilson, who associating the name of 
 his master's lawyer with some disagreeable pro- 
 fessional business, resolved that the present vi- 
 sitor should by no means make good his footing 
 in the house. 
 
 " I tell you he is out, Sir," said the servant. 
 
 VOL. I. l 
 
218 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " That's strange," said the Colonel. 
 
 " But true," said Wilson, pertly and imper- 
 tinently — " What 's your business with him ?" 
 
 " That, Sir," said the Colonel, " as I take it, 
 is no business of yours." 
 
 " Yes, Sir, it is," answered Wilson, " if I 
 knew who you were, I should be able, perhaps, 
 to give you a better answer." 
 
 "lam only Mr. Arden's uncle, Sir," said the 
 old gentleman, " and I wish particularly to see 
 my nephew, if it be quite convenient." 
 
 " My master's uncle, Sir !" — exclaimed the as- 
 tonished servant, who hardly knew in the hurry 
 of his surprise, whether the old gentleman's 
 appearance was to be hailed as a favourable 
 or unfavourable circumstance. " I beg you ten 
 thousand pardons, Sir, — my master is at home 
 — of course, Sir, — this way, Sir, — this way, — 
 Stevens, call Duval, send him up to me, — this 
 way, Sir; 1 ' — and thus, endeavouring by a mon- 
 keylike activity to compensate for the bearish in- 
 civility which he had displayed before he was ap- 
 prized of the quality and character of the visitor, 
 he himself ushered the Colonel into the library, 
 which, stripped of the gewgaw finery which a 
 night or two before had concealed its valuable 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 219 
 
 contents, presented to the eye of the old gentle- 
 man, an apartment full of comfort and informa- 
 tion. At a table, reading the newspapers of the 
 day, sat our young friend, Dyson, who turned 
 round as the door opened, and glancing his eye 
 over the figure of the veteran, was turning 
 round again to his reading, when Wilson, anxi- 
 ous that he, in common with the rest of the es- 
 tablishment, should find favour in the Colonel's 
 eyes, announced the said Colonel by his name, 
 with the gratuitous addition — "my master's 
 uncle, Sir." 
 
 In an instant the indolent lounger leaped 
 from his seat, the inactive reader became sud- 
 denly animated, and placing a chair, with the 
 most assiduous civility, for the old gentleman, 
 congratulated him upon his long wished-for ar- 
 rival in the house of his nephew, and detailed 
 at length the affection which George daily and 
 hourly expressed for his venerated relation. 
 
 " Sir," said the Colonel, " you please me 
 vastly by the intelligence which you give me. 
 I had almost feared that George had forgotten 
 me." 
 
 " There is no chance of such an event," said 
 Dyson ; " I know his heart, Colonel — he is full 
 l 2 
 
220 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 of feeling and sentiment ; he is all kindness — all 
 affection." 
 
 " I presume, Sir, you are intimately acquaint- 
 ed with him — have I the honour of speaking to 
 Mr. Dyson ?" 
 
 " My name 25 Dyson," said the young man, 
 somewhat surprised that his name should be 
 known to the Colonel, " and I have the va- 
 nity," added he, " to think that George has 
 not a better or more sincere friend than myself, 
 — we are the Damon and Pythias of the day, 
 called the Tarantulas, from never being half a 
 distance apart — do you propose staying with 
 us long, Sir ?" 
 
 " For some time, I think," answered the Co- 
 lonel: " I find that I can't contrive to spend 
 my money sufficiently fast in the country ; my 
 purse has a plethora — a little bleeding will re- 
 lieve it, promote circulation, and benefit the 
 constitution generally." 
 
 Dyson was at once astonished, delighted, and 
 overcome : to hear a man upwards of seventy 
 years of age talk in this strain — to see him 
 making a visit to London to dissipate, were such 
 new, such charming circumstances, that Dyson 
 instantly fell into the strain, and offered him 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 221 
 
 every assistance in the agreeable pursuit which 
 had brought him to the metropolis. " If that be 
 the case, Sir," said the youngster, " I flatter my- 
 self I may be useful : I have polished the pur- 
 becks ever since I was the height of a whip ; am 
 considered a kind of peripatetic sporting calen- 
 dar ; there is not a Peer from an Irish Baron 
 upwards that I don't nod to ; I can give you a 
 daily abstract of fashionable scan-mag — and give 
 you a list of all the thorough-bred running 
 horses, names of the owners, and colours of the 
 riders. ,, 
 
 " Sir," answered Arden, bowing profoundly, 
 and with an imposing gravity, " I am infinitely 
 obliged to you for the liberal offer of your ser- 
 vices, — nobody can deserve my confidence more 
 implicitly than the friend of my nephew." 
 
 " Where the deuce is he?" said Dyson: "I'll 
 run and hurry his grooming; he cannot surely 
 know you are here; besides, my quitting you 
 will serve a double purpose, I would not for the 
 world break in upon your first interview ; so I 
 will trot myself off for the moment, and be back 
 immediately, and assure yourself, Sir, that no 
 person can rejoice more sincerely in the addition 
 which you will make to our little circle than 
 myself." 
 
222 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 Away flew Dyson to his friend's room, elated 
 and delighted with the avowal made by the old 
 gentleman, of his intentions with regard to his 
 mode of living, which, it must be admitted, sur- 
 prised his nephew, as much as it had astonished 
 Dyson ; still, however, George hastened his toi- 
 lette, and as speedily as possible joined his ex- 
 pecting uncle in the library. 
 
 The meeting was cordial — full of affection — 
 full of feeling. Nature, so long exiled from the 
 heart of the young man in his round of profli- 
 gate pleasures, seemed doubly powerful, when 
 admitted for a moment to her rightful place. 
 He was overcome by the sight of the dear kind 
 guardian of his youthful days, and, — let not his 
 worldly friends know it — shed tears of joy — of 
 gratitude— of affection, as his old uncle clasped 
 him to his breast. 
 
 " Well, George," said the Colonel, " you 
 are surprised— you didn't expect me here, did 
 your' 
 
 " Not in the slightest degree," said George ; 
 " if you had apprized me of your design, I 
 would have made preparations, and — " 
 
 " Hang preparations !" interrupted his uncle, 
 " in an establishment like yours what prepara- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 223 
 
 tions are necessary ? besides, I am an odd fel- 
 low — off at the instant the fancy strikes me — 
 your last letter decided me." 
 
 " Surely, Sir," said George, " the expression 
 of my distaste for any matrimonial connexion, 
 has not irritated you ?" 
 
 " Irritate ! no, no, boy £* said the Colonel ; 
 " you are perfectly free to act as you please, 
 and do as you like ; besides, I have the least of 
 all possible rights to blame your decision, since 
 I never was married myself." 
 
 " No, but then " said George. 
 
 " Ah ! stop there — stop there, boy," said old 
 Arden. " You have heard the story — don't 
 recall it. I should have married, it is true — it 
 was to happen otherwise ! She is in Heaven, 
 George, and — but that 's nothing to the present 
 business — you have been deceived; I was robbed 
 of all I loved by the hand of death — you were 
 deprived of your betrothed too — but that was 
 by a friend." 
 
 " A friend !" exclaimed George, indignantly, 
 " do you call him sl friend of mine, Sir ?" 
 
 " You did," said the Colonel. 
 
 " Yes ; once," answered George. 
 
 " Umph," said the Colonel, " that 's past : 
 
224 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 and entre nous, Master George, I don't think 
 you ever cared very much for my Lady Frances." 
 
 " I assure you " 
 
 " Never mind— never mind: she's gone I 
 say, and there 's an end : and you do not mean 
 to trust the lottery of life again; that wild 
 chance of dipping into a basket of snakes for 
 the chance of catching an eel, which, even when 
 you have fairly got hold of it, you are scarcely 
 able to keep from slipping through your fin- 
 gers." 
 
 %t Why, Sir," said George, " I hardly ex- 
 pected to have found you so censorious upon 
 the sex, of which you have so long been the 
 avowed and powerful champion." 
 
 " I do but joke to please the ( present temper 
 of your mind,' George," said the old man; " let 
 cynics and satirists rail at marriage till their scur- 
 rilous tongues ache, they will never talk down 
 the advantages of female influence upon society,, 
 nor the blessings of that union of hands and 
 hearts, which is, in real truth, the source of all 
 happiness upon earth ; but I neither mean to 
 preach nor to plague you. In your own case, I 
 admit all your arguments against a new con- 
 nexion, and shall never again interfere with ad- 
 vice or proposals— so let us change the subject 3 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 225 
 
 and tell me — I see by the newspapers that you 
 are leading a very fashionable life." 
 
 " As to the newspapers, Sir," said George, 
 " you know they are no guide. I gave a mas- 
 querade here the other night, and Dyson and I 
 amused ourselves the next morning by sending 
 accounts of it to the papers, taking special care 
 to enumerate whole shoals of fashionable people 
 who never were over my threshold in their 
 lives; however, barring a few of these little 
 venial deceptions, I think I am doing the thing 
 handsomely." 
 
 " Your studies I perceive are going on at 
 the same time," said old Arden, in a tone not 
 easily to be mistaken, " the preparation for par- 
 liament — for office. You remember how we 
 used to talk it over some years since ?" 
 
 " My studies,''' said George, " are changed 
 only in the method of pursuing them. Formed 
 to live in the world and with men ; instead of 
 wasting my time in dull theories, deep reading, 
 abstract calculations, or abstruse sciences, which 
 every day are undergoing the most rapid and 
 striking alterations and improvements, I have 
 devoted myself to the study of mankind. I have 
 made myself master of all that is going on, and by 
 this system of observation upon things in general, 
 l5 
 
226 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 have enabled myself to steer clear of those evils 
 to which men at my time of life are generally 
 liable, and the fruit of all this study is the pos- 
 session of excellent friends, faithful servants, the 
 best acquaintance, and universal popularity." 
 
 " How happy you must be, George !" said his 
 uncle. " I believe I saw one of your intimate 
 friends here just now ?" 
 
 " You did, Sir," answered George, " Arthur 
 Dyson, an excellent fellow, and the best judge 
 of horse-flesh, always excepting myself, in Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " I was a good deal stricken by the ingenu- 
 ousness and candour of his manner and conver- 
 sation," replied the Colonel ; " it is only in Lon- 
 don one meets with such unreserved openness 
 upon a first acquaintance." 
 
 " London, Sir," answered George " is the 
 place of all places in the habitable globe to inha- 
 bit. The ' Eternal City' is good for a temporary 
 sejour — Paris, with its operas and boulevards 
 and fetes and circles, is lively and agreeable for 
 a season — but London is the place to settle in ; 
 the people are all, somehow or other, so actively 
 employed, and pass their time in such an unin- 
 terrupted round of marrying and dying, without 
 
THE MAM OF MANY FRIENDS. 227 
 
 the least lassitude or the smallest touch of ennui : 
 one man is made — another marred — no distaste — 
 every thing is changing and new, pleasures vary 
 with the seasons, and the scythe of Time itself 
 is hidden in flowers. - " 
 
 " A mighty pretty picture, George," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " You mean I hope to stay amongst us ?" 
 enquired the young man. 
 
 " I do, indeed," said his uncle ; " I mean to 
 take a house in London immediately." 
 
 " Then," said George, " Dyson is absolutely 
 your man, he has such taste — such tact, I'll 
 call him into council; as to your horses and 
 carriages he will be indispensable: his ad- 
 vice, I assure you, is universally asked and fol- 
 lowed upon such points." 
 
 " He lives with you, does he not ?" said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " He is good enough, Sir," said George, " to 
 make this his home, and you may depend upon 
 it I will take care you shall have the full benefit 
 of his experience ; besides which, my man Wil- 
 son shall attend you. He will save you all care 
 and anxiety about servants, and will manage 
 
228 THE MAN OF MANY FBIEND& 
 
 your cellars capitally, and, in short, do every 
 thing for you without the least trouble.'" 
 
 " I accept your offer, with many thanks," said 
 the Colonel ; " however, I must leave you just 
 now. I am staying at Kirkham's here in your 
 neighbourhood, and if you can send your man 
 to me in the course of the day I really shall feel 
 obliged.'' 
 
 It is needless to add that directions were 
 forthwith issued to Wilson to attend the old 
 gentleman at the hotel, to which he returned 
 fully convinced from what he had seen of a 
 morning in Grosvenor Street, (in addition to 
 his experience of an evening passed there be- 
 fore,) that his unhappy nephew, full of the con- 
 fidence of inexperience and the pride of youth- 
 ful wisdom, was in fact the veriest dupe ima- 
 ginable. 
 
 My readers by this time may, perhaps, an- 
 ticipate the nature of the old gentleman's plan, 
 which, however, remained a profound secret as 
 far as Louisa was concerned. She, poor girl ! 
 was temporarily consigned to the care of 
 Mrs. Abberly, who was to chaperone her about 
 town to all the sights, but alas ! to nothing 
 else: for Mrs. Abberly moved in that class of 
 semi-fashion^ which consorts amicably and conti- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 229 
 
 nuously within itself, but never exceeds a cer- 
 tain circle. The Abberlys had, besides their 
 coachman, but one male servant, who waited at 
 dinner in a livery, sometimes assisted by the said 
 eoachman fresh from the stables, smelling like 
 Astley's Amphitheatre of Arts. And they kept 
 a blue coach, with red wheels and yellow cyphers 
 painted on the pannels, drawn by a pair of job 
 horses, and Mr. Abberly used to think it quite 
 spiry to wear a white hat and sit upon the 
 coach-box and drive them himself on Sundays, 
 up and down the Wellington-road in Hyde 
 Park. My reader will easily perceive that no- 
 tions of London formed in such company must 
 be perfectly erroneous, and that our poor belle 
 from the country stood but little chance of un- 
 derstanding the real merits of a metropolitan 
 life under such tuition. 
 
 It must be confessed that the sight of George 
 in the midst of his amiable dissipation had re- 
 kindled the flame which had long lain dormant 
 in her heart, and the principal interest excited 
 by the kind and attentive proceedings of Mrs. 
 Abberly towards her young and interesting 
 charge, arose from the constant hope she che- 
 rished of meeting in some of their rambles the 
 object of her undeviating thoughts. Things, 
 
230 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 however, were not to happen quite so fortu- 
 nately ; and time and patience Were both re- 
 quired for the great work her uncle had in hand. 
 
 According to his nephew's promise, the Colo- 
 nel found Wilson at the hotel waiting for him at 
 four o'clock : and he made his advances to the 
 old gentleman, in a manner so totally different 
 from that in which he repulsed him at his mas- 
 ter's door in the morning, that Arden could 
 hardly believe himself speaking to the same 
 man. 
 
 Wilson bowed subserviently and said that he 
 waited upon the Colonel by his master's orders. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," said the Colonel, " I am in want 
 of servants ; my nephew tells me you can re- 
 commend me some.'" 
 
 ■? I flatter myself, Sir, that you will not be 
 dissatisfied with my exertions upon that head — 
 how many and of what description, Sir," asked 
 Wilson, " do you want ? — three or four ?" 
 
 " Three or four, Sir !" said the Colonel, — 
 " six or seven livery servants at least !" 
 
 " Six or seven !" repeated Wilson, " dear me, 
 Sir, you will require a large house." 
 
 " A very large one indeed, Sir," said the Co- 
 lonel; " perhaps you could make enquiries about 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 231 
 
 this neighbourhood for one, I prefer this part of 
 London." 
 
 " Why, I certainly do know of one to be let 
 at this very moment," said Wilson, " with four 
 drawing-rooms en suite, large Verandah, and 
 conservatory, overlooking the Park. It was 
 splendidly fitted up for an eminent merchant 
 who failed." 
 
 " Poor man !" sighed the Colonel, " and 
 obliged to quit it ?" 
 
 " Not exactly, Sir : after his failure," said 
 Wilson, " he found it not quite large enough, 
 so he moved to a better, and therefore this one 
 is to be had." 
 
 " Provided it be sufficiently spacious for me, 
 and capable of accommodating my establishment, 
 I'll take it," said the old gentleman; " so pray 
 make the earliest possible enquiries about it. 
 And now, Sir, about liveries for these men- 
 servants of whom we were speaking ; how can 
 we manage that speedily ?" 
 
 w We can manage very well, Sir," answered 
 Wilson, " until Nugee can get yours made up; 
 we have always a few spare suits, either for the 
 hired waiters at our large parties, or for the offi- 
 cers who happen to be staying in the house." 
 
232 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Officers ! Sir," exclaimed the Colonel, red- 
 dening with anger. " Officers, Sir, wear li- 
 veries ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, sheriff's officers I mean ; who 
 sometimes are left in possession, when any man 
 in a hurry runs us up to execution. " 
 
 " And has it really come to this!" thought 
 the old gentleman. " Well, Sir," said he, " I 
 shall leave all these matters to your good ma* 
 nagement ; but there is one servant about whom 
 I must of course be more particular. I mean 
 my — I hardly know what to call him." 
 
 " House-steward, perhaps," suggested Wilson. 
 
 " Hardly that," said the Colonel ; " indeed 
 I know nothing more suitable, at present, than 
 to call him a Wilson. I want, in short, just 
 such a servant as you appear to be to my ne- 
 phew, filling as it were a combination of offices 
 in one." 
 
 " What the wags call a fac~totum, Sir," said 
 Wilson, jocularly. 
 
 " I don't know a wag when I see one, Sir,* 
 said the Colonel gravely ; " but I perceive you 
 understand precisely what I mean." 
 
 " Why, Sir, to find exactly such a servant as 
 myself, it may seem vain in me to say it," said 
 Wilson, affecting a downcast look of modesty, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 233 
 
 " but I really do 7iot, at this moment, know 
 where to look for a person qualified as / am." 
 
 " Well, then, Mr. Wilson, suppose you were 
 yourself to come to me," said the Colonel. 
 
 " I, Sir,* exclaimed the astonished and well- 
 pleased servant, "I, Sir, leave my master — 
 such a master as mine is— a master who has al- 
 ways been so kind — so generous — so liberal !" 
 
 Wilson had gotten thus far in his speech, 
 when he suddenly recollected that George had 
 nearly finished his career of dissipation, while 
 his uncle was only just beginning his : his affec- 
 tion and gratitude to the young man were just 
 on the point of yielding, when the Colonel de- 
 cided the affair by abruptly asking him what 
 wages George gave him ? 
 
 " Why, the wages, Sir, are not much," said 
 the doubting menial — " it is my attachment 
 makes the place valuable to me. I — get but 
 ninety guineas a-year nominally — an admitted 
 picking of perquisites, and a bottle of claret per 
 diem — taken at discretion, Sir." 
 
 " Come to me, my excellent fellow," said the 
 Colonel, exultingly, " and I '11 double the whole 
 — two hundred a-year, and two bottles of claret, 
 there !" 
 
 " Sir, you are extremely liberal," replied 
 
234 THE MAN OF MANY FBIENDS. 
 
 Wilson, having at the moment determined upon 
 closing the bargain, "but there is really nobody 
 in the world, except his uncle, Sir, to whom I 
 would go from Mr. George ; but as I conclude 
 you will always live together, I shall be proud 
 to accept your offer." 
 
 " We shall not live together, Mr. Wilson," 
 said Arden, " but I see the bargain is struck, 
 and you belong to me. Leave the rest of the 
 matter to my guidance. Ill arrange about 
 your getting away from George immediately ; 
 because, as I have told you, I shall tell him, I 
 want a confidential person about me, and he is 
 not equally at a loss." 
 
 " You may trust me, Sir," said Wilson, bow- 
 ing profoundly. 
 
 " I know it, Sir," said the Colonel, " and in 
 the first instance, and in the outset of our ca- 
 reer, Mr. Wilson, your discretion must be spe- 
 cially called into play. I have arrived, as you 
 perceive, at a certain time of life — no compli- 
 ments, Mr. Wilson ; I am seventy-two. — I have 
 brought a young and interesting female to Lon- 
 don with me." 
 
 " Oh !" said the servant, archly; "I see, 
 Sir, and the lady is to live in our house." 
 
 " Yes, she is," answered the old man, " and 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 235 
 
 to do the honours of our house too ; and I de- 
 sire that you, and all those who may be put in 
 authority under you, will obey her orders, and 
 pay her every respect," 
 
 " Your commands shall be obeyed to the 
 letter, Sir," said Wilson. 
 
 " My nephew has never seen this young 
 person," continued the Colonel, " to-morrow 
 I shall introduce them to each other; in the 
 mean time, proceed you with the engaging of 
 servants, give me directions by which I may 
 find the house you speak of, and above all, say 
 nothing to your late master, of what has passed 
 between us touching this last subject. Recollect 
 you are my servant, now, Mr. Wilson — you 
 will, therefore, return here by seven, and when 
 I come in to dress for dinner I hope to find 
 you with at least half your commissions exe- 
 cuted; but as to the young lady — prudence, 
 Mr. Wilson, you understand." 
 
 And so they parted, the Colonel keeping his 
 finger laid closely to his lip as he left the room ? 
 and the servant absolutely enraptured with the 
 bright prospect before him. The impression made 
 upon his mind was, nevertheless, that the Colonel 
 was mad — a feeling considerably strengthened 
 by the discovery that a young, and as he had 
 
236 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 just heard, interesting girl, was the companion 
 of his journey to town. His first step was to re- 
 turn to Grosvenor Street, where he found his 
 ci-devant master waiting for him." 
 
 " You have staid long, Wilson," said George, 
 somewhat more sharply than usual. 
 
 " I have been arranging matters with the old 
 man," answered Wilson, " and I declare, Sir, 
 he is the best creature alive." 
 " I told you so," said George. 
 " But I have a piece of news to announce, 
 Sir, at which, I hope, you won't be angry," 
 said Wilson : " I must quit your service." 
 " Quit my service !" exclaimed George. 
 " Yes, I have been solicited, nay forced, by 
 your amiable uncle, to superintend his house- 
 hold and establishment." 
 
 " Are you serious, Sir ?" asked his master. 
 " Grave as a judge, Sir," replied Wilson. 
 " What ! do you really mean to say, Wilson, 
 after having been treated by me as you have 
 been, that upon the first blush of a better offer 
 you will leave me, and all my affairs at sixes 
 and sevens — me, to whom you owe every thing?" 
 " Except the trifling balance which you hap- 
 pen to owe me, Sir," said Wilson, in a tone 
 which in a moment irritated George to the very 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 237 
 
 heart's core, and which in another similar space 
 of time would, in all probability, have brought 
 Mr. Wilson horizontally on the floor, had he not 
 adroitly watched the coming storm, and saved 
 himself from its effects by suddenly disclaiming 
 every thing like the paltry love of gain in his 
 proposed change of service, and adding, in a 
 subdued tone, " but what does money signify — 
 it was your interest I had at heart in accepting 
 the situation, Sir. I saw, in an instant, how im- 
 portant it was that you should have a man de- 
 voted to your cause actually established in your 
 uncle's house; nothing but that consideration 
 would have induced me to listen to the pro- 
 posal ; besides, Sir, I have news of a different 
 nature, which will startle you, and at the same 
 time afford an additional proof of my prudence." 
 " Nothing, I think, will surprise me now, 
 Wilson," said George ; " I have seen and see 
 such things every day passing before my eyes, 
 that I have learned never to be astonished at 
 any thing. I should not even wonder if my 
 uncle proposed keeping a mistress." 
 
 " 'Gad, Sir," said Wilson, forgetting, or ra- 
 ther violating all his promises of secresy and 
 prudence, "youVe hit the very thing — there's 
 a chere arnie in the question." 
 
238 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Ridiculous !" exclaimed George. 
 
 " True, as gospel," replied the servant. 
 
 " Who is she, what is she ?" enquired the 
 nephew. 
 
 " There, Sir, I must at present be secret : 
 first, because I have promised your uncle pro- 
 found silence on the subject ; and secondly, be- 
 cause, as yet, I do not happen to know any 
 thing about it. But as the old gentleman says 
 she is young, interesting, and amiable, I con- 
 clude that she will turn out to be the orphan 
 daughter of some country clergyman, with nine 
 children, who died a victim to circumstances, 
 and left his family to ' the care of the charitable 
 and humane."' " 
 
 " This is, indeed, news," said George, more 
 thoughtfully than usual ; convinced in his own 
 mind, not only that his uncle would be com- 
 pletely fooled during his life-time, but that his 
 property would be diverted from the course 
 into which he always expected it to flow ; and 
 devolve, perhaps, with his name, upon some art- 
 ful young woman, who would go so far as to de- 
 base herself by marrying age, disease, and de- 
 crepitude, for the sake of money, the wanton 
 expenditure of which, she would anxiously anti- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 239 
 
 cipate, when the wretched old victim of her de- 
 pravity and duplicity, should lie mouldering in 
 his grave. Indeed, George's gratification at 
 hearing this bit of intelligence did not quite 
 keep pace with his surprise. 
 
 Different was the effect produced upon his ex- 
 cellent friend, Mr. Bertie Noel, who saw in the 
 information, promise of future flirtations and in- 
 trigue ; the moment the news reached his ears he 
 congratulated George upon the acquisition of an 
 uncle in London, who proposed not only to fur- 
 nish houses, dinners, carriages, and horses for 
 the use of his friends, but even a young and 
 beautiful mistress to superintend the expenditure. 
 
 George, whose faults were of the head, most 
 certainly had not thought of refining upon 
 his uncle's apparent indiscretion, or of making 
 him, even in thought, the dupe of his artifice, 
 and the sufferer by his libertinism : it was true, 
 he saw the folly of his uncle's keeping a mistress 
 at his time of life, but he did not look deeply 
 and coolly into the subject, with a view of grati- 
 fying his own evil propensities at his uncle's ex- 
 pense. Bertie Noel, however, felt no delicacy 
 upon that head, nor would his feelings have 
 been hurt had the Colonel been his uncle instead 
 
240 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 of his friend's, under similar circumstances ; as 
 it was, there were no ties to be broken, no faith 
 to be violated, and since Bertie Noel was a loose 
 philosopher who would venture to justify the 
 crime of seducing his friend's wife, by asserting 
 the impracticability of seducing the wife of his 
 enemy, it seemed probable that the chere amie 
 of the veteran Colonel (as Mr. Wilson so know- 
 ingly termed her,) was in a fair way of being 
 speedily besieged. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Arthur Dyson, whose pas- 
 sions and feelings were, as I have before ob- 
 served, absorbed in the pursuits of the turf 
 and the gaming table, was assiduously employed 
 in looking at horses for the old gentleman's stud, 
 and sundry meetings were held with " legs'* of 
 various classes and denominations, as to what 
 cattle it would be most advantageous to put 
 into the Colonel's stable. Tall, shewy horses, 
 with sand-cracks ; Bolters, and kickers, and all 
 the unmanageable and unsaleable brutes which 
 had been cast from Milton's and Elmore's were 
 speedily collected and brushed up in breaks for 
 the inspection of the Colonel, who affected a 
 placid indifference to the points of the animals, 
 as they were paraded before him, and an utter 
 ignorance of the subject altogether, which last 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 241 
 
 piece of conduct principally astonished his ne- 
 phew, who knew that he had been an excellent 
 judge of a horse, and only attributed the strik- 
 ing difference which he perceived in the old 
 gentleman's manner, to some defect in his sight, 
 which, having chosen to play the rake, he 
 did not care to acknowledge. Still, however, 
 his mind's eye appeared to be suffering under 
 some disorder as difficult to account for, as 
 his bodily blindness. His quick, shrewd cha- 
 racter appeared to George to have undergone 
 a change fully as remarkable as his conduct ; 
 and, in short, from the extreme easiness of his 
 disposition, and the proportionate activity of 
 Dyson, the young man entertained serious ap- 
 prehensions that his uncle was likely to be 
 seriously imposed upon. 
 
 Wilson's assiduities with respect to servants 
 were unbounded ; characters, testimonials of 
 long service and unsullied integrity, from all the 
 first noblemen in London, in behalf of applicants 
 for places, covered the Colonel's table. Dyson 
 undertook the choice of coachmen and grooms ; 
 Wilson himself selected for Miss (as he called 
 Louisa) a pair of superfine ladies'' footmen, 
 with long legs and broad shoulders, and fixed 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 upon a person whom he had himself known in- 
 timately, for many years, as excellently qualified 
 for the office of butler. 
 
 George gave his uncle a splendid dinner, in 
 the evening of this very day; and introduced 
 him to many of his numerous friends, amongst 
 whom Mr. Bertie Noel was by no means back- 
 ward in distinguishing himself by the most par- 
 ticular attentions and civilities to the old gentle- 
 man, whose total silence on the subject of his 
 female compagnon de voyage confirmed all the 
 suspicions of the young gentlemen, as to the cha- 
 racter and condition of the lady. Towards the 
 close of the evening cards were mentioned, as if 
 accidentally, and preparation made for playing, 
 the Colonel expressed a well-feigned astonish- 
 ment at the appearance of the table, and affect- 
 ed to believe that play in private houses, what- 
 ever might be done in clubs, was rarely to be 
 met with. George explained away this solecism 
 in a manner, which, although he thought he was 
 doing the thing very dexterously, convinced his 
 uncle that the gentlemen who usually formed the 
 parties in Grosvenor Street, were of a descrip- 
 tion not likely, if their play had been confined to 
 clubs, to play at all, being in his estimation 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 243 
 
 persons who would inevitably have been dosed 
 with black pills, had they ventured to try the 
 higher flights of fashionable profligacy. 
 
 In short, the Colonel saw enough, and saw 
 too that to the flagrant vices and barefaced 
 impositions of his pretended friends, George was 
 owl-blind; and on his way homeward to the 
 hotel, which he was to quit the next day for his 
 splendidly-furnished house, he revolved in his 
 mind the course of proceeding most likely to 
 open his eyes. 
 
 In the morning the old gentleman received 
 the visits of sundry tradesmen, to whom he had 
 given orders for different articles of dress ; and 
 Wilson, who was fully installed in his high of- 
 fice, presented for his approbation, Monsieur 
 Rissolle, " without exception the best cook in 
 the United Kingdom." 
 
 The particular profession of this person, the 
 Colonel, who understood very little French, was 
 for some time puzzled to find out ; he heard a 
 vocabulary of dishes enumerated with grace and 
 fluency, he saw a remarkably gentlemanly look- 
 ing man, his well-tied neckcloth, his well-trim- 
 med whiskers, his white kid gloves, his glossy 
 hat, his massive chain encircling his neck, and 
 m 2 
 
244 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 protecting a repeating Breguer, all pronouncing 
 the man of ton ; and when he came really to 
 comprehend that the sweet-scented, ring-fingered 
 gentleman before him, was willing to dress a 
 dinner on trial, for the purpose of displaying 
 his skill, he was thunderstruck. 
 
 " Do I mistake V said the Colonel : " I really 
 beg pardon — it is fifty-eight years since I 
 learned French — am I speaking to — a — (and 
 he hardly dared to pronounce the word) — 
 cook?" 
 
 " Oui, Monsieur," said M. Rissolle ; " I be- 
 lieve I have de first reputation in de profession : 
 I live four years wiz de Marqui de Chester, 
 and je me flatte dat, if I had not turn him 
 off last months, I should have superintend his 
 cuisine at dis moment." 
 
 " Oh, you discharged the Marquis, Sir ?" said 
 the Colonel. 
 
 " Yes, mon Colonel, I discharge him ; be- 
 cause he cast affront upon me, insupportable to 
 an artist of sentiment." 
 
 " Artist !" mentally ejaculated the Colonel. 
 
 " Mon Colonel, de Marqui had de mauvais 
 gout one day, when he had large partie to dine, 
 to put salt into his soup, before all his com- 
 pagnie." 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRTENDS. 245 
 
 " Indeed, ,, said Arden ; " and, may I ask, is 
 that considered a crime, Sir, in your code ?" 
 
 " I don't know Code," said the man, " Morue ? 
 — dat is salt enough without." 
 
 " I don't mean that, Sir," said the Colonel ; 
 " I ask, is it a crime for a gentleman to put salt 
 into his soup ?" 
 
 " Not a crime, mon Colonel," said Rissolle, 
 " but it would be de ruin of me, as cook, should 
 it be known to the world, — so I told his Lord- 
 ship I must leave him; that de butler had said, 
 dat he saw his Lordship put de salt into de 
 soup, which was to proclaim to the universe dat 
 I did not know de propre quantite of salt re- 
 quired to season my soup." 
 
 " And you left his Lordship for thatT' en- 
 quired the astonished country gentleman. 
 
 " Oui, Sir, his Lordship gave me excellent 
 character ; I go afterward to live wid my Lord 
 Trefoil, very good, respectable man, my Lord, 
 of good family, and very honest man, I believe — 
 but de king, one day, made him his governeur 
 in Ireland, and I found I could not live in dat 
 devil Dublin." 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " No, mon Colonel — it is fine city," said 
 
246 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 Rissolle — " good place — but dere is no Italian 
 Opera." 
 
 " How shocking!" said Arden, " and you 
 left his Excellency on that account ?" 
 
 " Oui, mon Colonel." 
 
 " Why, his Excellency managed to live there 
 without an Italian Opera," said Arden. 
 
 " Yes, mon Colonel, c'est vrai — but I pre- 
 sume he did not know dere was none when he 
 took de place — I have de character from my 
 Lord, to state why I leave him." 
 
 Saying which, he produced a written charac- 
 ter from Lord Trefoil, who being a joker, as 
 well as a minister, had actually stated the fact 
 related by the unconscious turnspit, as the 
 reason for their separation. 
 
 " And pray, Sir," said the Colonel, " what 
 wages do you expect ?" 
 
 " Wages ! Je n'entend pas, mon Colonel," 
 answered Rissolle ; " do you mean de stipend — 
 de salarie ?" 
 
 " As you please," said Arden. 
 
 " My Lor Trefoil," said Rissolle, " give to 
 me seven hundred pounds a-year, my wine, and 
 horse and tilbury, with small tigre for him." 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 247 
 
 " Small what, Sir?" exclaimed the astonished 
 Colonel. 
 
 " Tigre," said Rissolle, w little man-boy, to 
 hold de horse." 
 
 " Ah!" said Arden, " seven hundred pounds 
 a-year, and a tiger !" 
 
 " Exclusive of de patisserie, mon Colonel, I 
 never touch dat departement, but I have de ho- 
 nour to recommend Jenkin, my sister's hus- 
 band, for the patisserie, at five hundred pound, 
 and his wine. Oh Jenkin is dog ship at dat, mon 
 Colonel." 
 
 " Oh ! exclusive of pastry," said the Colonel, 
 emphatically. 
 
 " Oui, mon Colonel," said Rissolle. 
 
 " Which is to be contrived for five hundred 
 pounds per annum, additional. Why, Sir, the 
 rector of my parish, a clergyman, and a gentle- 
 man, with an amiable wife and seven children, 
 has but half the sum to live upon." 
 
 " Dat is hard," said Rissolle, shrugging up 
 his shoulders. 
 
 " Hard — it is hard, Sir," said Arden ; " and 
 yet you will hear the men who pay their cooks 
 seven hundred a-year for dressing dinners, get 
 up in their places in Parliament, declaim against 
 
248 THE MAN OF MANY FBIENDS, 
 
 the exorbitant wealth of the Church of Eng- 
 land, and tell the people that our clergy are 
 overpaid." 
 
 " Poor clergie ! mon Colonel," said the man, 
 " I pity your clergie; but den, you don't re- 
 member de science and experience dat it require 
 to make an omelette souffle." 
 
 " The Devil take your omelette, Sir," said 
 Arden ; " do you mean seriously and gravely to 
 ask me seven hundred pounds a-year for your 
 services ?" 
 
 " Oui, vraiment, mon Colonel," said Rissolle, 
 at the same moment gracefully taking snuff 
 from a superb gold box. 
 
 " Why then, damn it, Sir, I can't stand this 
 any longer," cried the irritated novice in the 
 fashionable world; " seven hundred pounds ! 
 make it guineas, Sir, and I '11 be your cook for 
 the rest of my life." 
 
 The noise of this annunciation, the sudden 
 leap taken by Monsieur Rissolle to avoid some- 
 thing more serious than words, which he antici- 
 pated from the irate Colonel, brought Wilson 
 into the room, who, equally terrified with his 
 Gallic friend at the symptoms of violent anger 
 which his master's countenance displayed, stood 
 wondering at the animation of the scene ; when 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 249 
 
 Arden, whose rage at the nonchalance of Ris9olle, 
 at first impeded his speech, uttered with an em- 
 phasis not to be misunderstood 
 
 " Good morning — Sir — Seven hundred- „V 
 
 What the rest of this address might have 
 been it is impossible to say, for before it was 
 concluded Rissolle had left the apartment, 
 and Wilson closed the door.— To this faithful 
 friend the astonished artist communicated all 
 that had passed, and before his return to his 
 master's room, the old gentleman had bitterly 
 repented giving way to his natural indignation 
 at the wanton extravagance of the age, when 
 for his purpose a placid acquiescence in all its 
 follies was what he ought to have exhibited. 
 Having, therefore, cooled himself, and taken a 
 resolution to bear any thing of a similar nature 
 that might happen, with patience and philoso- 
 phy, he rang the bell, and enquired if the 
 tradesmen whom he had appointed were ar- 
 rived, it being his full determination to make 
 his personal appearance correspond as much as 
 possible with the prevailing taste of the day. 
 
 His shoemaker, of course selected by Wilson, 
 a celebrated professor, first entered the apart- 
 ment : to him the Colonel exhibited his feet in 
 m 5 
 
250 THE MAN OF MANY Fill ENDS. 
 
 the purgatory of a pair of pumps, into which, 
 with the assistance of his own man, and a shoe- 
 ing-horn, the old gentleman had compressed his 
 proper proportions. 
 
 " These shoes, Sir, are too tight by half," 
 said Arden. 
 
 " Excuse me, Sir, they seem to fit capitally, 1 ' 
 replied the shoemaker, with an assurance equal 
 to that of him who fitted my Lord Foppington 
 in the play. 
 
 " They don't look well about the heel," add- 
 ed the Colonel. 
 
 " Why, Sir," said the man, with a half sup- 
 pressed smile, " we only profess to make shoes ; 
 Nature does the rest." 
 
 " Umph !" said Arden, resolved upon keep- 
 ing his temper, yet perfectly understanding the 
 insinuation, — " All I know is, Sir, they pinch 
 me confoundedly when I walk." 
 
 " Walk !" exclaimed the shoemaker, with an 
 expression of astonishment : " Oh ! — why, — Sir. 
 we serve very few gentlemen who ivalk in dress 
 shoes, — but we will see and stretch them, Sir." 
 
 And as he was withdrawing from the audience 
 the hatter made his appearance, who descanted 
 iecture-wise upon the shape and style of the ar- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 251 
 
 tide in which he specially dealt, and ran 
 through a vocabulary of names of living men, 
 as illustrative of his various propositions upon 
 the important subject ; till Arden, who selected 
 that, which while fashionable, appeared best 
 suited to his age, turned with a hope of relief 
 to his newly appointed tailor, who, like his pro- 
 posed cook, was of course a foreigner ; it being 
 an established axiom in this country that its 
 natives are incompetent to the dressing either 
 of dinners or dandies. 
 
 The hatter, who was a tall, smirking, simper- 
 ing, blue-eyed brute, with curly hair powdered, 
 stood in a distant window waiting the Jiat of his 
 opulent customer, while the tailor proceeded to 
 try on such a coat as the old gentleman had 
 never been in company with before. It was, 
 however, pronounced to fit " ci mejveille" and 
 wanted nothing but the least possible alteration 
 in the shoulders to be perfect ; in order that it 
 might receive which, its author handed it to 
 Wilson, and asked him to desire a servant to 
 put it into his carriage which was at the door. 
 
 The sound of carriage struck upon the Colo- 
 nel's ear, and he was very near exploding again, 
 when he calmed himself, and recollecting that 
 
252 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 the tailor to whom his present decorator was 
 the successor, had purchased a German barony 
 and a collection of pictures, (for which his skill 
 in fine-drawings had, as the wags tell us, given 
 him a taste,) merely said to the man interroga- 
 tively : — 
 
 a Have you your carriage here ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir," answered the tailor, " we keep 
 carriages to save time, — de fashions change so 
 fast dat if ve did not catch dem flying, trade 
 would be at an end." 
 
 " That is exactly what I was telling the Co- 
 lonel," said the smirking hatter, " the hat is at 
 this moment threatened with an alteration." 
 
 The Colonel stood aghast at the pert fa- 
 miliarity of these persons, but moderated his 
 anger when he recollected that in this free and 
 happy country, in which talent and industry 
 have raised some of its brightest ornaments from 
 obscurity and indigence to rank and honours, 
 the character of a tradesman, however injured 
 by the contemptible airs of a few impudent pre- 
 tenders, is at once honourable and respectable. 
 
 From the fever of these audiences the old 
 gentleman speedily recovered, and proceeded, 
 together with his new and excellent servant 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 253 
 
 Wilson to his fashionable residence, which he 
 intended to enter upon that evening. To this 
 elegant rus in urbe, the very paradise of Park 
 Lane, Louisa was also to be removed, and 
 the following day was fixed in the old gentle- 
 man's mind for the introduction of Louisa to 
 his nephew and his friends in her new capacity, 
 and under an assumed name. What his object 
 in this might have been I cannot at present pre- 
 tend to say, but certain it is that Nature had 
 bounteously favoured his scheme whatever it 
 might be, for never perhaps in the course of 
 " growing up" had any human being so com- 
 pletely changed in appearance as Louisa Neville ; 
 so much so, indeed, that a faithful likeness of her, 
 taken when she was seven years old, was regularly 
 exhibited by her mother to her acquaintance, not 
 as any resemblance of her child at nineteen, but 
 as a perfect curiosity from its entire dissimi- 
 larity to her present features, the tone of her 
 complexion, and even the colour of her hair. 
 
 It must be confessed that when her uncle 
 opened so much of his plan to her as developed 
 the necessity of her forthwith changing her name, 
 she was excessively embarrassed, perhaps from 
 not exactly understanding what he meant, or 
 
254 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 how the delicate alteration was to be effected. 
 Mentioning to a young lady any thing touching 
 a change of her name has in it something pe- 
 culiarly piqu a nte, and therefore should be ma- 
 naged with proportionate discretion: certain it 
 is, that when her uncle began the conversation 
 upon the subject, Louisa seemed to misunder- 
 stand the process which her uncle eventually pro- 
 posed. However, as he more than hinted at his 
 ulterior object in the little deception, she waived 
 any trifling objection which she might otherwise 
 have been disposed to make, and quietly sub- 
 mitted to be called Miss Anstruther, with all 
 the complacency and good-nature usually ob- 
 servable in young ladies of amiable dispositions, 
 whenever they are requested to do any thing 
 which happens to be particularly agreeable to 
 themselves. 
 
 During the progress of all the old gentleman's 
 proceedings, the young men were completely 
 satisfied of the truth and justice of Wilson's 
 surmises and information, touching the character 
 in which Miss Anstruther was to assume the 
 command of the new establishment; and while 
 George, who highly respected his uncle, mar- 
 velled at so unequivocal a display of bad taste, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 255 
 
 and, as he thought, folly, he internally felt a regret 
 that the Colonel's total silence upon the subject 
 of his female companion, precluded the oppor- 
 tunity of speaking to him concerning the state 
 of his affairs; so early did the indiscretion of 
 the old man strike the young one, and so ready 
 are human beings to perceive faults in others, 
 to which, if their own, they are stone-blind. 
 
 At length, however, the denouement ap- 
 proached. The Colonel took possession of his 
 new residence ; a first-rate cook, at a somewhat 
 more moderate stipend than M. Rissolle, was 
 duly installed ; the hall was well garnished out 
 with long and lazy menials ; and the black chair 
 filled by a porter of prodigious size and impor- 
 tance ; the family livery glittered in rich gold 
 lace ; and the broad scarlet front of the janitor 
 glared with a brilliancy sufficient to drive from 
 the lofty door all those who had not a perfect 
 right to enter. 
 
 To this splendidly decorated residence, the 
 mild and gentle Louisa, under her new name, 
 was conveyed; and the next morning, as his 
 uncle anticipated, George and his friends began 
 to make their appearance in Park Lane. As for 
 poor Mrs. Abberly (who, like her husband, had 
 
256 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 an ill opinion of aliases) she could not in the 
 smallest degree comprehend the utility of the 
 scheme, nor its tendency. She was quite sure, 
 she said, she never should be able to keep the 
 secret, because, as for calling Louisa, Miss An- 
 struther ; Neville would pop out in spite of all 
 her precautions; but above all she bitterly 
 lamented the supposed necessity for such con- 
 trivances, as of course she never could take the 
 dear children to Park Lane, while the decep- 
 tion was to be kept up. 
 
 This last calamity she mentioned before Co- 
 lonel Arden, who seemed all at once better 
 pleased than ever with his plan of operation, 
 and suddenly relieved of every lingering scruple 
 with respect to the alteration of his niece's 
 appellation. 
 
 The eventful moment at length arrived, and 
 George, accompanied by Bertie Noel, proceeded 
 to the Colonel's house. As they were ushered 
 through the hall to the old gentleman's room, 
 the young men were actually startled at the 
 extent and magnificence of what lawyers call 
 the appurts of the establishment: every thing 
 was of the first class, and the expression of 
 Wilson's countenance, whom they happened to 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 257 
 
 encounter on the staircase, tacitly proclaimed 
 the super-excellence of the arrangements in 
 every department. 
 
 " George, my boy," said old Arden, as they 
 entered the room, " I am delighted to bid you 
 welcome to my London residence; Mr. Noel, 
 you do me honour — be seated, and tell me can- 
 didly what you think of Mr. Wilson's expedi- 
 tion and management. ,, 
 
 " He has been more successful than usual, 
 Sir," said George, thinking at the same time 
 that nothing could be more ridiculous than the 
 exercise of his ingenuity in the present pursuit. 
 
 " Why, Sir," said Noel, " you should not 
 solitarily enjoy this paradise — a house without a 
 woman is like — " 
 
 " My nephew's house," interrupted Arden — 
 " 'a fane without a deity, a body without a 
 soul.'" 
 
 " With these opinions, Sir," said Noel, " I 
 wonder you consent to enjoy these sweets 
 alone." 
 
 Old Arden, who in a moment perceived that 
 Wilson had betrayed his confidence and his 
 secret, and that his very ingenious young friend 
 was now assiduously employing his worldly skill 
 
258 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 in what, with considerable force, but with at least 
 equal vulgarity, is called "pumping " resolved 
 to give him a favourable opportunity of dis- 
 playing his dexterity in that polite and gentle- 
 manly art. 
 
 " Why, now, Mr. Noel," said the Colonel, 
 " you would not persuade a quiet, country 
 gentleman, on the shady side of seventy, to run 
 the risk of uniting his fortunes with those of a 
 female partner ? Don't you think the finger of 
 scorn would be pointed at him in society, that 
 he would become the dupe of his worldly friends, 
 and that his young wife would — " 
 
 " Oh, wife !" said Noel, " I didn't exactly 
 mean a wife, Colonel." 
 
 George, who had frequently before heard, with 
 pleasure, Noel broach the most libertine opinions 
 and the most profligate sentiments, felt his cheek 
 burn and his heart palpitate, as his animated 
 friend developed his views of the subject to his 
 venerated uncle. It was not that it trenched too 
 closely upon what they both believed, at the 
 moment, to be the truth ; it was not that he was 
 not as anxious as Noel could be to ascertain the 
 precise fact as to whom the fair incognita was ; 
 but it was, that he felt in the society of that 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 259 
 
 man, to whom for years he had looked up, with 
 respect and veneration, and especially to him- 
 self, such a suggestion should not have been 
 made, nor such a laxity of principle evinced. 
 How often has the same feeling affected us all, 
 and how sensitively alive is a man in one 
 circle to the faults and ignorances of his asso- 
 ciates, which do not shew themselves when he 
 meets them in another; and how frequent and 
 distressing to a delicate mind are those exhibi- 
 tions of bad taste, in which the companion of 
 convivial hours, the partner in the chace, or the 
 chum at college, brings to the common stock of 
 general conversation, in serious hours and more 
 refined associations, the " quips and cranks,' 
 nay even the jests and coarsenesses, which, 
 though excusable perhaps when the wine was in 
 and the wit out, cannot fail to violate the usually 
 observed rules of every-day life, and even 
 offend the feelings and habits of better regu- 
 lated society. 
 
 Noel had never before appeared to so little 
 advantage in the eyes of George : who was agi- 
 tated and annoyed ; his fingers grew cold, and 
 his cheeks warm as the conversation proceed- 
 ed ; but it must be confessed that he recovered 
 
260 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 himself considerably when he found his uncle 
 not only joining in the waggery of his young 
 friend, but evidently preparing his hearers for 
 the disclosure they so much desired. 
 
 " Were you ever suspected for a conjuror, 
 Mr. Noel ?" said the Colonel — a question which 
 George at first apprehended was the com- 
 mencement of an attack upon his elegant 
 friend. 
 
 " Not exactly, Sir," answered Noel, a good 
 deal confused, and thinking that he had gone 
 rather too far. 
 
 " Because, Sir," said Old Arden, " unless 
 you have the gift of divination, you certainly 
 are blessed with a great felicity in coincidences. 
 I conclude I may trust you; my nephew I know 
 I can rely upon, not to bruit my indiscretion 
 about the town. The truth is, I — have a young 
 lady at this moment living under my pro- 
 tection." 
 
 i( Indeed !" exclaimed Noel : — "a Lady I* 
 cried George, — and they both affected to be 
 wonderfully surprised. 
 
 " As to the character she fills in my estab- 
 lishment, you must be charitable," continued 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 261 
 
 Arden, " the world is censorious I know, but 
 when you hear any odd reports about us, put 
 my age, habits, and infirmities, into one scale, 
 and the calumny into the other, and I shall be 
 perfectly satisfied." 
 
 " But, Sir," said George, " are you really 
 serious ?" 
 
 " Entirely so," replied his uncle; " and you 
 shall see my protegee immediately ; but before 
 the introduction takes place, let me put your 
 minds at rest as to the nature of our connexion — 
 she is the orphan daughter of a deceased clergy- 
 man. ,1 
 
 At this annunciation, Noel, who had heard 
 Wilson, a short time before, designate her ironi- 
 cally in precisely the same words, exchanged a 
 look with George, and an involuntary smile 
 played upon his fine countenance. Old Arden 
 perceived this, and feared that Wilson's infor- 
 mation had by some means or other been more 
 ample than he desired, and that the real state 
 of the case was known to his nephew. 
 
 " Am I saying any thing very ridiculous ?" 
 said Colonel Arden, " I see it makes you smile, 
 Mr. Noel:' 
 
262 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " No, upon my honour, Sir," replied Noel, 
 " I was smiling only at another curious coinci- 
 dence." 
 
 u Well then," continued the Colonel, " in 
 introducing my fair young friend to your ac- 
 quaintance, I shall only say, that I feel for her 
 the purest and warmest paternal affection, and 
 I think I need not add another word to ensure 
 your respect and esteem for her ; perhaps it is 
 not wholly unnecessary, and certainly as well, 
 that I should inform you, (for I assure you she 
 is not without her attractions,) that she is under 
 a matrimonial engagement with a most exemplary 
 man, a near arid dear friend of my own.' 1 
 
 " Oh !" said Noel, " there is no need of warn- 
 ing off George, Sir ; he has absolutely forsworn 
 the sex, as to any e proceedings in the way of 
 marriage.'' " 
 
 " I only wish to be candid at the outset,'" 
 said Arden ; "let us understand each other, 
 and it will save any future disagreements in the 
 fanuly." 
 
 " As for me" said George, " if my dear 
 uncle were to shew me a second Venus, I 
 would " 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 263 
 
 " Make no protestations, George, 11 said the 
 Colonel, " the heart and passions of a man are 
 not at his own disposal — it would be uncharita- 
 ble to suppose they were. There is only the in- 
 vincible power of woman over his fate and des- 
 tiny left as a set-off against the innumerable 
 acts of criminality which fill the records of our 
 courts, and the annals of gallantry: take my ad- 
 vice, and reserve to yourself the full benefit of 
 the palliation. However, having told you the 
 exact state of the circumstances under which 
 Miss Anstruther resides with me here, we will, 
 if you please, go and visit her. We shall find 
 her, I dare say, in her boudoir." 
 
 The Colonel rose and led the way— the name 
 of Anstruther was canvassed by the young men 
 in a whisper during their progress, and George, 
 who in his own mind was perfectly satisfied of 
 the propriety of the young lady, maugre all the 
 hints and insinuations of his friend, could only 
 marvel why this new adoption had so completely 
 usurped the place of Louisa Neville, remem- 
 bered by him, it is true, only as the idol of his 
 uncle, and about whom he carefully abstained 
 from making any enquiries, lest he should there- 
 
264 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 by lead the old gentleman to imagine that she 
 retained the smallest possible share of his inte- 
 rest or affection. 
 
 The Colonel having himself ushered his 
 guests into one of the drawing-rooms, pro- 
 ceeded to Louisa's " snuggery,'" and having 
 allowed a certain period of time to elapse, that 
 the young men might discuss the subject 
 at their leisure, and his fair charge prepare 
 herself for the meeting which, to her, was full 
 of interest and difficulty, returned with her to 
 the room, where he found them occupied in 
 admiring the prevailing good taste and elegance 
 of the decorations and furniture ; but soon were 
 they doomed to withdraw their eyes from the in- 
 numerable bits of virtH which surrounded them, 
 to feast them upon a piece of Nature's handy- 
 work, far, far beyond the reach of art. George 
 was dazzled in an instant ; and when the Colonel 
 presented his beautiful charge as Miss Anstru- 
 ther, he watched his nephew's countenance to 
 ascertain whether there was any thing like re- 
 cognition in its expression : but no, the laughing, 
 romping, fair-haired " Loui" of his youth, had 
 so completely merged in the dark -locked, graceful 
 creature then before him, that as he gazed upon 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 265 
 
 her lovely form and features, admiration undi- 
 vided and unqualified, possessed him. 
 
 Noel was stricken too, but in a totally differ- 
 ent manner : he perceived the violent agitation 
 which Louisa laboured to conceal, and set it 
 down for acting, somewhat over-done. George 
 was abashed by her beauty, but Bertie de- 
 cided upon the line of conduct to be adopted 
 in the course of his future acquaintance with 
 her. 
 
 Louisa was, as I have said, extremely flurried, 
 and George was in no condition to commence 
 the conversation, although Noel had the good 
 taste, under all the circumstances, to leave the 
 lead to him. 
 
 Any observation upon the weather, the usual 
 ice-breaker upon such occasions in low life, being 
 wholly out of the question, George asked for in- 
 formation on a point whereupon he was perfectly 
 well informed already. 
 
 " You have not been long in town, Miss 
 Anstruther ?" said he. 
 
 " Only three or four days," was the answer ; 
 and to her, George seemed but little altered 
 either in countenance or manner since they 
 parted. 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Have you been much in London ?" asked 
 the young man. 
 
 " I never was here till now," replied Louisa ; 
 and at that moment the old gentleman en- 
 gaged Noel upon some popular topic, for which 
 Louisa felt extremely grateful, and Noel wished 
 him at Jericho. 
 
 " It is extremely strange," said George ; and 
 he turned round, as if about to appeal to Noel 
 for a corroboration of what he was about to say 
 — but in vain — he was occupied. " But I could 
 have fancied that I had the pleasure of seeing 
 you, or rather hearing your voice, a few even- 
 ings since, at my house." 
 
 " I suspect you were deceived," said Miss 
 Neville ; "I have not left your uncle for some 
 time." 
 
 " It is very singular, — I might be mis- 
 taken," continued young Arden, " but the tone 
 is strikingly similar;" — and the conversation 
 resumed its generality. Still, however, the 
 voice of Miss Anstruther forcibly reminded 
 him of his visitor in the blue domino ; and 
 although the style of dress, her figure, and 
 constrained manner at present, the subdued in- 
 tonation of her voice, and fifty other adventi- 
 tious circumstances combined to puzzle him, he 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 267 
 
 felt by no means displeased at finding his uncle's 
 protegSe so closely resembling, in the only point 
 upon which he knew her, the girl of whom he 
 had been dreaming and raving since their brief 
 interview ; and though certainly not yet shaken 
 in his antipathy towards marriage, he rested his 
 eyes upon the downy cheek and coral lips of 
 Louisa with a gaze as intense as that of Noel's, 
 which was also riveted on the same bewitching 
 object ; but as different in its character as light 
 from darkness. 
 
 Noel, although professedly a lady-killer, had 
 dissipated much of his time amongst such fe- 
 males as he could not associate with in general 
 society; and, as is not unusual with men so cir- 
 cumstanced, had formed his opinion of the sex 
 upon the specimens which had chiefly come un- 
 der his own personal inspection. Hence he had 
 taught himself to believe, that women were uni- 
 versally made up of trickery and deception.-— 
 Dignity of character and innate virtue were 
 not to be found in his vocabulary of female at- 
 tributes; in every naivete of innocence he saw 
 the allurements of vice ; from every artless word 
 he implied some hidden meaning ; and thus be- 
 ing, as he fancied, skilled in the female characu 
 N 2 
 
268 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 ter, devoted himself only to that, which he 
 considered the object of their lives and conduct, 
 and treated them as food for amusement, and 
 objects of gratification, rather than as they 
 really are, the sources of social happiness and 
 refined delight. 
 
 In ten minutes George was convinced that 
 there never was a more charming, interesting, 
 lovely girl than Miss Anstruther; and Noel 
 had decided that, after " ten days' run," he 
 should make the prize his own; and this an- 
 ticipation was founded upon the certainty, in 
 his own mind, that even a man of seventy-two 
 and a girl of nineteen could not live in the same 
 house, without the occurrence of something, 
 which other people would call criminal, but 
 which he deemed perfectly natural ; and as for 
 all the evidences of her modesty and timidity, 
 he considered them only as so many blinds and 
 baits, to deceive the old man and tempt the 
 young ones. 
 
 The introduction of these youthful heroes to 
 Miss Anstruther, was the signal for mischief, 
 
 "Treasons, stratagems, and spoils." 
 
 In all societies, under all circumstances, let the 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 269 
 
 evident causes be what they may, we may be 
 pretty certain that woman is the primum mobile. 
 Cynics tell us, that money is the grand mover 
 of all things, and, as I have somewhere before 
 noticed, say, that if we look round the world 
 and search into its ways and transactions as mi- 
 nutely as we can, we shall find six-and-eight- 
 pence at the bottom of every thought and every 
 action of mankind. This may be partly true 
 with respect to money, but it is ten thousand 
 times oftener true as relates to women ; and in 
 the particular case of which I am now treating, 
 the ascendency of the latter over the former 
 was destined to be proved. 
 
 The conversation, which, for a first interview, 
 was sustained with something like spirit, season- 
 ed by anecdotes from the Colonel, by the gen- 
 tle suggestions and soft assiduities of George, 
 and by the malicious representations of passing- 
 events given with infinite skill and smartness by 
 Mr. Bertie Noel, continued for some time, until, 
 a servant announcing Miss Anstruther , s car- 
 riage, she left the conclave, and was followed 
 by the Colonel, who made his excuses to his 
 visitors for his temporary absence, and pur- 
 posely left them again together to the freedom 
 
2/0 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 of discussion upon what they had seen and 
 heard. 
 
 " Well, 11 said Noel, as they left the room 3 
 " what do you think of that V 
 
 " Why, I think she is an angel! 11 said 
 George. 
 
 " She is a much better thing, 11 replied Noel ; 
 " she is a devilish pretty girl, full of all the lit- 
 tle trickeries of her trade, and looking as de- 
 mure as a vestal, but it won't do, my dear fel- 
 low. I know a woman in a twinkling — I can tell 
 you the meaning of all those looks and sighs, 
 and throbbings and bobbings — mark me, Mas- 
 ter George — she will soon be one of us. 11 
 
 " For shame ! Noel, 11 said George ; " I never 
 saw so much inartificiality in my life. 11 
 
 " Umph, 11 said Noel, " what the lakers call a 
 virid mind, I suppose. 11 
 
 " And I cannot help thinking she was the 
 blue domino, at my masquerade, 11 continued 
 George. 
 
 " That, 11 said Noel, " seems extremely pro- 
 bable, indeed; but I should not adduce the 
 fact of her having been the blue domino at 
 your masquerade in support of her vernal fresh- 
 ness. Now take my advice, Arden; let us 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 271 
 
 have none of your infernal sentiment about the 
 girl — you have had enough of one jilt, and a 
 happy escape you had — do not run your head 
 into the collar again, without the smallest reason : 
 besides, over and above all things, you know she 
 belongs to your uncle. " 
 
 " Merely as his charge — his ward — his — * 
 
 " His ward J — yes,"" said Noel, " and I should 
 by no means dislike to ease him of the trust 
 upon his own terms." 
 
 " Didn't you hear,* 1 said Arden, " that she 
 is engaged to be married ." 
 
 " Well, then, if she be," said Noel, " that is 
 the strongest possible reason why you should 
 have nothing to say to her. You would not rob 
 the poor gentleman, who is your uncle's special 
 favourite, of his delicate bride. You will please 
 to remember that you did not, by any means, 
 relish the experiment, when it was tried upon 
 yourself, Master George/ 1 
 
 " I never rejoiced in that event so completely 
 as now," exclaimed George, with an unusual 
 degree of animation. 
 
 " Indeed !" said Noel, " then you are going 
 the way of the world, and have made up your 
 mind to fall in love with Miss Anstruther, 
 
272 THE MAN OF MANY FEIfiNDS. 
 
 merely because you have been regularly warned 
 off; there can be no other reason.'" 
 
 " Look at her, Bertie," said George, almost 
 romantically. 
 
 " So I did," said Bertie, " the whole time 
 she was sitting here, and I repeat I never saw 
 a nicer young creature, to be ward to oneV 
 uncle, or governess to one's sister, in the whole 
 course of my life." 
 
 " For shame, for shame t" cried Arden, " how 
 can you talk in this manner ." 
 
 " I speak as I feel, George," said Bertie ; " as 
 I have told you over and over again, you lost 
 Lady Frances by your exquisite sensibility and 
 over-refinement ; that talking in a corner, how- 
 ever pleasant in company, won't carry your 
 point." 
 
 " Hang Lady Frances !" said George pee- 
 vishly. 
 
 " Oh fie ! George," said Noel, " if the ladies 
 were to hear that their devoted cavaliere servente, 
 the sentimental Mr. Arden, could talk of hang- 
 ing the accomplished daughter of an English 
 Earl, to whom he had plighted his faith, as if 
 she were a small puppy dog, their fans would 
 be spread in battle array against him." 
 
 " Do not vex me," said George ; and he 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FltlENDS. 273 
 
 thought at the moment that he had never in 
 his life seen any human being so thoroughly 
 and detestably disagreeable, as his bosom 
 friend, Bertie. 
 
 At this juncture, it must be confessed, some- 
 thing like irritation manifested itself in the 
 conduct of Mr. George Arden, the increase of 
 which to any serious height, however, was sud- 
 denly and presently checked by the return of 
 his uncle; who, perfectly aware from the ap- 
 pearance of the young men, as well indeed as 
 from the loud tone of voice in which the last 
 injunction of his nephew had been given, that 
 an animated conversation had taken place, im- 
 mediately proposed an excursion to look at 
 one of his new carriages, which was just re- 
 ceiving the finishing touch from the hands of 
 Mr. Leader. 
 
 "lam sorry, Sir," said Bertie, " that I can- 
 not have the pleasure of accompanying you.'" 
 
 " We shall see you at dinner, perhaps," said 
 the Colonel, (strange to say), to the great mor- 
 tification of George. 
 
 " I shall be too happy," replied Noel; " in- 
 deed nothing but business would take me from 
 your exploring party to the coachmaker's." 
 n 5 
 
274 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Business !" said old Arden ; " you are not 
 much of a man of business, I suppose, Mr, 
 Bertie. If there 's a lady in the case, I '11 give 
 you up without a murmur ; if not, come with 
 us — you can have no business elsewhere to in- 
 terfere with the advantages I should derive from 
 your opinion upon my new hammer-cloth." 
 
 George could have said, and it would not 
 have displeased him in the then temper of his 
 mind to say, that Bertie had no business where 
 he was. 
 
 " I positively must go into the City,'" said 
 Bertie ; who, as he found the Colonel's anxiety 
 to have his opinion apparently increase, propor- 
 tionably increased his affirmations of the impos- 
 sibility of giving it. 
 
 " The City !" said Arden ; " what, to ballot at 
 the India House, or transfer Stock at the Bank?" 
 
 " Neither, Sir," said Bertie ; " but I happen 
 to have occasion for five hundred pounds. I 
 have over-drawn my banker, and unless I call 
 and soothe the monster, I shall have my drafts 
 dishonoured, or some agreeable affair of that 
 kind." 
 
 " Five hundred pounds !" exclaimed Arden, 
 " what, George, will you allow your friend to 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 275 
 
 break up our party for such a mighty affair as 
 five hundred pounds ?" 
 
 " Sir,' 1 stammered George, " I know no- 
 thing about it — I — V 
 
 The truth is, George had not five hundred 
 pounds at his command ; and if he had had five 
 millions, Bertie at that moment would have 
 shared none of it ; so vexed was he at his con- 
 duct about the young lady, and so anxious that he 
 should be forced to go any where rather than 
 stay where he was. 
 
 " This is very ungracious, George," said old 
 Arden, " and very unlike you. Mr. Bertie, you 
 must allow me to correct my nephew's taste ; 
 make me your banker. I know what young 
 men and their expenses are ; do me the favour 
 to let me know what will answer your purpose ; 
 one of my servants can send your communica- 
 tion to Lombard Street, and we shall still profit 
 by your taste and judgment.'" 
 
 George was thunderstruck at this piece of 
 gratuitous liberality ; in fact, it grieved as 
 much as it surprised him : he fancied he per- 
 ceived, in the extraordinary change in his uncle's 
 manners and conduct, an alteration of character, 
 arising, as he feared, from a deterioration of in- 
 
276 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 tellect, and most assuredly would have saved the 
 old gentleman's money at the hazard of his own, 
 had his finances been in a condition to enable 
 him to do so ; as it was, he stammered out some 
 words confusedly, and gave Bertie a look ex- 
 pressive of a desire that he should not accept his 
 uncle's proposed favour. 
 
 Bertie Noel could see a Duke at half a mile, 
 and could hear the softest whisper of invitation 
 from an immeasurable distance ; but to repul- 
 sive looks, or disagreeable words, he was as 
 blind as Homer, and as deaf as Miss Goddy of 
 Geneva ; and to all the telegraphing of his friend 
 he paid not the slightest attention, while, on 
 the other hand, he quietly repeated the extent 
 of his wants to the Colonel, who, to George's 
 utter confusion, proceeded to write a cheque 
 for the amount, during which process, the ami- 
 able Noel exhibited the most unequivocal signs 
 of triumphant joy at the unexpected success 
 of his attack upon the veteran's purse. 
 
 It was now that the integral goodness of 
 George's heart began to shew itself — it was now 
 that he determined, at the very first oppor- 
 tunity, to speak seriously to his uncle, and with 
 a view of ascertaining the real character of Miss 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 277 
 
 Anstruther, he resolved, whenever a fit season 
 should come, to enquire of her, what period of 
 time had elapsed since the extraordinary change, 
 now so perceptible in the old gentleman's conduct, 
 had been first apparent. He thought, by inducing 
 this conversation, he should be able to satisfy 
 his mind, as to whether it was under her influ- 
 ence that wasteful extravagance and wanton ex- 
 penditure had assumed the places of moderation 
 and steadiness, and discover, by the view she ap- 
 peared to take of his uncle's present line of con- 
 duct, what were really the feelings by which she 
 was actuated, in her conduct towards him. He 
 dreaded the trial : he was convinced that if his 
 worst suspicions were well founded, no repre- 
 sentations of his could alter or turn the course 
 of events, while his interference, if reported by 
 Miss Anstruther to his uncle, would perhaps 
 exclude him from the society of that uncle, or 
 as he felt it still more to be dreaded, from that 
 of Miss Anstruther herself. 
 
 The first proceeding, however, of the day 
 was the visit to the coachmaker's. Bertie sud- 
 denly recollected, so soon as he had gotten the 
 checque, that it would be useless troubling the 
 Colonel's servant to go into the City with it, be- 
 
278 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 cause it would be past banking-hours by the 
 time he reached Lombard Street. Accordingly 
 the trio directed their steps saunteringly towards 
 Leader's, where they discovered that admirable 
 master of the horse, Mr. Arthur Dyson, actively 
 employed, superintending the hanging of the car- 
 riage in question. This exemplary young man 
 having ascertained that George and Bertie were 
 gone to the Colonel's, and knowing also, that an 
 appointment had been made with the coachmaker 
 at half-past four, proceeded to the spot to wait 
 their arrival, having also ascertained, from Wil- 
 son, that the Colonel was to " give a feed" 
 that day — a term introduced, I presume, ori- 
 ginally by the gentlemen of the turf, but now 
 applied indiscriminately to such middle-aged 
 and elderly dupes, as are sufficiently good-na- 
 tured to feed with dinners and fill with wine 
 the unhoused danglers of the day, in return 
 for their trouble in dancing with their daugh- 
 ters, or flirting with their wives: The giving 
 good feeds is, with many of these youngsters, 
 the grand criterion by which the virtues and 
 talents of mankind are measured. In the City, 
 and amongst the junior branches of certain ho- 
 nourable professions, which shall be nameless, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 279 
 
 the phrase is stronger, but the value and mean- 
 ing are precisely the same : these persons call a 
 similar favour " a grand blow-out." Whenever I 
 hear a man use either of these expressions I 
 take out my note-book and insert his name in 
 a list which I keep there, the classification of 
 which I shall here omit, seeing that it may be 
 sufficient to observe, that the page in which the 
 muster-roll of such persons is written, is that 
 which is the farthest removed from another list 
 which I also keep — of gentlemen. 
 
 It will be quite evident, however, to the class 
 of individuals alluded to, and who are adepts in 
 every little meanness and contrivance likely to 
 bring about an invitation, (or as they call it 
 with equal good taste an "invite") that Mr. 
 Arthur Dyson placed himself in Leader's shop, 
 not so much for the purpose of jumping and 
 bumping himself about in Colonel Arden's new 
 carriage in order to try the springs, as for that 
 of getting asked to join his dinner-party in the 
 evening. The bait was taken and the jockey 
 invited, and after a lengthened dissertation upon 
 the relative merits of Poligimcs and Grasshop- 
 pers, and all the other varieties of the article then 
 under discussion, the party separated for their 
 
280 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 morning's ride in the Park, binding themselves 
 to meet again at Colonel Arden's at half past 
 seven. 
 
 These arrangements were concluded in a 
 manner highly satisfactory to Messrs. Noel and 
 Dyson, who shortly after paired off together, 
 the one to tell, and the other to hear the his- 
 tory of Miss Anstruther, of the way in which 
 the old gentleman's establishment was ma- 
 naged, and all those other little details whence 
 these youthful sages intended to cull materials, 
 whereby to guide their future course of con- 
 duct. 
 
 To George alone, of the four, did the ac- 
 cession of his two friends to the dinner-table 
 appear to give equivocal satisfaction. His uncle 
 perceived the evidence of his nephew's feelings in 
 his countenance, and was pleased to see how the 
 invitations to the young beaux affected him. 
 George was restless and nervous as the hour of 
 dressing approached, and although his acquain- 
 tance with Miss Anstruther was but a few 
 hours old, and although more especially he had 
 been cautioned as to the circumstances of her 
 engagement to another, still there can be no 
 doubt, and indeed there was none at the mo. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 281 
 
 ment in the Colonel's mind, that she was the 
 cause of that sudden change in his feelings to- 
 wards his bosom friends, which was so clearly 
 perceptible, They would engross the conversa- 
 tion, they would alarm the timid girl by the 
 boldness of their manner, perhaps offend her 
 delicacy by the strain of equivoque and double- 
 entendre in which their histories and anecdotes 
 of real life were usually delivered ; in short, he 
 felt what he could hardly account for, and what 
 he certainly could not have described, but which 
 wound itself up in one little wish, that nobody- 
 was going to dine in Park Lane but himself, his 
 uncle, and Miss Anstruther. 
 
 To baffle the quiet enjoyment of a rational 
 evening seemed to be part of the Colonel's 
 scheme, and accordingly at half past seven the 
 party were assembled, Arthur Dyson being in 
 due form presented to the young lady of the 
 mansion. 
 
 The dinner proceeded as usual, the dessert 
 followed, Miss Anstruther retired, and the after- 
 dinner conversation ensued ; in which it was 
 remarked by his observant cronies, that George 
 seldom participated. His eyes were fixed on his 
 uncle, and he watched the varying expression of 
 
282 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 the old gentleman's countenance as his compa- 
 nions related in their ordinary style the fa- 
 shionable proceedings of the week, discussed 
 with fluency and flippancy the talents of Minis- 
 ters and the points of race-horses, scanned the 
 beauties and accomplishments of ladies, and ri- 
 diculed the pretensions of their husbands ; des- 
 canted on the relative merits of wines with a 
 knowledge of their subject equal to that of 
 Henderson himself, illustrating their lectures 
 by frequent experiments upon the various pro- 
 ducts of the Colonel's cellar ; until, to the 
 relief of their excellent friend George, who 
 had never before thought them either so stupid 
 or so wicked, the Colonel proposed joining the 
 lady in the drawing-room. 
 
 Bertie Noel entered the room first, and the 
 manner in which he proceeded to commence his 
 attack upon Louisa petrified George, who was 
 more than ever convinced of the entire ground- 
 lessness of their first suspicions as to the nature 
 of her connexion with his uncle. George's re- 
 serve and diffidence were not unnoticed by any of 
 the party — Noel gave several significant glances 
 at Dyson, and the Colonel looked and said no- 
 thing, but Louisa, who appreciated the delicacy 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 283 
 
 of George's conduct, and whose whole heart in 
 fact was his, evinced her feelings on the sub- 
 ject by a measure so decided, that the young 
 gentlemen who were not at all in the secret, with 
 difficulty suppressed a most uncivilized laugh. 
 
 After enduring for some quarter of an hour 
 a strained conversation with Mr. Noel, who, sim- 
 pering to show his teeth, had fixed his downcast 
 eyes upon her person, with an expression, which, 
 although to her innocent and virtuous mind but 
 half intelligible, excited sufficient disgust to make 
 her shrink from his advances and attentions ; 
 she quitted the sofa she had been unwillingly 
 sharing with the self-pleased beau, crossed the 
 room and called the attention of George to some 
 splendid work of art which was lying on a table 
 in a different part of the apartment. 
 
 Tfcis sudden and independent movement was 
 seen and noticed by all the party, each one of 
 whom was watching what might happen with 
 the deepest interest. George could not be 
 insensible to the marked preference thus de- 
 cidedly shown him — he felt delighted; and as 
 he looked on the lovely girl who addressed him, 
 their eyes met — hers were not abruptly or 
 timidly withdrawn, as they had been from the 
 
284 THE MAK OF MANY FRIENDS, 
 
 wanton gaze of Noel ; that difference, too, was 
 observed by all. To the old gentleman it was 
 neither extraordinary nor displeasing — to the 
 young ones it seemed natural enough, because 
 Arden was a good-looking fellow, and the Co- 
 lonel was his uncle ; but to George himself it 
 was inexplicable. 
 
 Established at the remote table on which the 
 book in question was placed, the young couple 
 30on became interested in their subject, animated 
 in their remarks, and George, riveted by the 
 unaffected intelligence of his fair partner, was 
 so completely absorbed in admiration of the 
 sweetness of her manner, her beauty, and her 
 tenderness (for he was no stranger to her), that 
 he was absolutely thunderstruck, when his uncle, 
 advancing to the sacred corner where they were 
 installed, informed him, that as his friend Mr. 
 Noel had just told him that the hotel where he 
 lived was about to be repaired and re-painted, 
 he had prevailed upon that gentleman to accept 
 of rooms in his house. 
 
 " What here, Sir !" exclaimed George. 
 
 " To be sure, George," said the Colonel ; " I 
 have no other town house to offer." 
 
 George looked half wild at the information, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 285 
 
 Louisa appeared startled, but Bertie said, that 
 it really was the kindest thing imaginable of 
 the Colonel, for the smell of paint was ruinous 
 to health, and that as to going into strange 
 lodgings at the end of the season, after they 
 had been flavoured for three or four months by 
 other people, it was perfectly abominable. 
 
 All the comfort and happiness of George 
 Arden were at an end. What ! was his uncle 
 then really mad ? introduce a libertine like 
 Bertie Noel, as an inmate into the house with 
 such a creature as Miss Anstruther ? 
 
 It appeared indeed so like insanity, that the 
 unhappy nephew was doubly grieved and mor- 
 tified at the announcement of such an intention. 
 He tried to frustrate the scheme by saying, 
 " that there was a room in his house quite at 
 Noel's service, as he knew — and — " 
 
 " Ten thousand thanks, my dear George, 1 ' 
 said Noel, " but here I can have the advan- 
 tage of Miss Anstruther's assistance at the 
 breakfast-table: and a breakfast-table without 
 a lady is a perfect desert. I hope, Miss An- 
 struther, you like green tea? I must insist 
 upon green tea, Colonel — 'tis the only point I 
 make." 
 
286 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Whatever you please, my dear Sir," said 
 old Arden ; " to prove by my conduct the es- 
 timation in which I hold the friends of my 
 nephew will be my greatest pleasure ; and, I 
 am sure, my young lady here, will second my 
 endeavours to make your residence agreeable 
 under my roof." 
 
 " You may rely upon it, Colonel," said Noel, 
 " the desire to be agreeable will be mutual." 
 At the end of which significant speech, Dyson 
 coughed — perhaps accidentally, and George felt 
 more than half inclined to withdraw his uncle, 
 and remonstrate upon the extraordinary nature 
 of his invitation. He repressed the inclination, 
 but was by no means more easy or comfortable, 
 when he saw, probably in pursuance of some 
 telegraphic hint from the old gentleman, his ado- 
 rable Miss Anstruther actually join in a conver- 
 sation with Bertie, in a manner more unrestrain- 
 ed, more lively, and evincing decidedly more 
 pleasure, than was perceptible in her former col- 
 loquy with the same person. All at once he fan- 
 cied that he had been deceived in her ; that she 
 would have liked the conversation in the corner 
 to have assumed a different character from that 
 which it really took; and that to a discussion 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 287 
 
 upon etchings and engravings, she would have 
 preferred some more moving theme, and per- 
 haps expected proofs of the impression which 
 herself had made. 
 
 But when the moment of separation came, 
 and Bertie Noel evinced strong symptoms of an 
 intention to outstay George and Dyson, who 
 were going home together, the young gentle- 
 man's irritation was manifest, and in the eyes of 
 his quondam friend extremely entertaining ; no 
 little manoeuvre, no sly suggestion, no general 
 remark was left untried which he thought likely 
 to shake the purpose of his dear Bertie, but 
 when they were on the very point of quitting 
 the room, and his uncle said to Noel, "you 
 need not leave us just yet, Mr. Noel — George has 
 his carriage here, and does not go your way," 
 George was absolutely giddy and half blind 
 with that sort of sickness, utterly indescribable 
 to any body who has not at some time or other 
 suffered it : — it proceeds from an absolute devo- 
 tion to one only object, (the attainment to which 
 is environed by all sorts of dangers and difficul- 
 ties,) thwarted by the free and easy familiarity 
 of some heartless adversary, who, without aim 
 or object perhaps, usurps the place one would 
 
288 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 give the universe to occupy, and maintains his 
 ground with perfect nonchalance, while his suf- 
 fering rival (as, perhaps, he only fancies him- 
 self,) is compelled by some untoward circum- 
 stance to leave him in quiet possession of the 
 envied station. 
 
 Sir Richard Steele, I think it is, who de- 
 scribes this feeling in one of his plays, where he 
 makes a lover say to his mistress : 
 
 " O£you I am not jealous, 
 " 'Tis my own indesert that gives me fears, 
 " And tenderness forms dangers where they 're not. 
 " I doubt, and envy all things that approach thee ! 
 "■ Not a fond mother of a long wish'd-for only child 
 " Beholds with such kind terrors her infant offspring, 
 " As 1 do her 1 love \" 
 
 This was the feeling of poor George at the 
 moment of breaking up the party. He had gone 
 too far to retract his intention of departing ; he 
 could not of course force away his friend, and as 
 the Colonel so pointedly invited him to stay be- 
 yond the others, George quitted the apartment 
 and the house, accompanied by Dyson, in a hu- 
 mour by no means agreeable either to himself 
 or his companion. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 289 
 
 " That 's a fine girl, George," said Dyson, as 
 they walked down Brook Street — for George 
 had sent away his carnage — why, he did not 
 exactly know, and, therefore, I am wholly in- 
 competent to say. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said George, " a very charming 
 young lady, indeed. ,, 
 
 " You have hit her hard, George," said Dy- 
 son ; " she 's done, Sir, — knocked over — hasn't 
 a foot to stand on." 
 
 " What do you mean F" asked Arden. 
 
 " Mean! Why, what does hunting in couples 
 mean ? — what did all that nose-rubbing between 
 you mean? — why did she ask you to come and 
 look over prints in a corner ?— you are up to that 
 sort of thing I suppose, Mr. Arden : she 's as 
 nice an article as I Ve seen for some time, and 
 I wish you joy. If she doesn't come to corn 
 without shaking the sieve twice, I '11 never back 
 a horse again — only I 'd advise you to keep 
 your eye over your shoulder as you go along — 
 Master Noel will be close at your haunches." 
 
 « Noel be P 
 
 " Hallo ! Hallo P said Dyson, " what 's the 
 matter, George, restive? — why, this is a new fling 
 out ! what, are your * withers wrung,' already ?" 
 
 vol. I. o 
 
290 THE MAN OF MANY FEIENDS. 
 
 " I am in no humour to joke on the subject, 
 Dyson,'" said Arden ; " we had better change it." 
 
 u With all my heart, George," said Dyson* 
 " I only threw out a warning — I Kke fair starts. 
 I don't care three yards of whip-cord for the 
 girl, myself, but I hate jostling and crossing : 
 Noel has got a stall close to the course- — always 
 ready for morning exercise— that 's what I call 
 a distance and seven pounds. I merely give ad- 
 vice — it don't suit my book to meddle with such 
 things, but I can see; and fond as the little thing 
 seems of you just now, there 's nothing like con- 
 stant work. Bertie will be always at hand." 
 
 " Mr. Noel," said George, " knows better 
 than to presume to " 
 
 " Come now I Ve done, Arden," said Dyson ; 
 " here we are at your door. I didn't think the 
 thing had gone half so far— and now I see you 
 are in earnest, perhaps it may give you a com- 
 fortable night's rest to tell you, that with tliat 
 girl, Noel has no chance against you. You could 
 give him two stone and a half, and beat him in 
 a canter — you are a-head of him already— keep 
 the lead, now you have got it — all I say is, look 
 now and then over your shoulder." 
 
 And at the conclusion of this technical and 
 seasonable advice the friends entered the house, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 291 
 
 and although Dyson endeavoured to draw out 
 George upon the tender topic of Miss Anstru- 
 ther, he did not succeed; indeed his manner was 
 neither so worldly, nor so winning as Noel's, and 
 he contented himself by eulogizing the Colonel as 
 a fine old fellow^ and a jolly old boy, and a prince 
 of an uncle, until he touched the other string, 
 which was ready to vibrate to his hearer's heart. 
 Next to the newly created sentiment for Miss 
 Anstruther, and his sudden inveterate hatred of 
 Bertie Noel, the anxiety he felt for the sake of 
 his uncle was the strongest and most exciting- 
 feeling which agitated him; and it was with 
 mingled regret and surprize he discovered 
 that the old gentleman had solicited Dyson 
 to make up a whist party for him at George's 
 on the following day, where it had been previ- 
 ously fixed that he should dine — an arrange- 
 ment, now that he had seen Miss Anstruther, 
 George at once discovered to be extremely 
 disagreeable, and particularly inconvenient: 
 she, of course, would not be of his party, 
 and the possibility of her being left alone 
 in the house with Noel, (to whom George re- 
 solved on sending the most pressing invitation,) 
 appeared to him absolutely appalling. 
 o2 
 
292 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " I suppose Mead and Dalby may dine here 
 to-morrow, George ?" said Dyson. 
 
 " To be sure, Arthur," replied Arden, " we 
 cannot well make up our table without them." 
 
 " I mentioned their names to your uncle," 
 said Dyson, " and he desired particularly to 
 know them." 
 
 " Then by all means despatch notes early to 
 them," said George ; " do not let my uncle be 
 disappointed." 
 
 " He is an uncle," exclaimed Arthur, " an 
 uncle who does honour to the age !" 
 
 " So he is, Arthur," answered George; " but 
 I know his property pretty well, and he appears 
 to me to be carrying his liberality and extrava- 
 gance too far." 
 
 " What 's that to us," said Dyson ; " he is off 
 at score, that's true, but he has been hoarding 
 so long, that, like a river pent up within locks, 
 his money rushes out dashingly ; after the first 
 flood, the current will run more quietly: no 
 doubt that orphan of his — that slip of the 
 country parson, keeps the whip-hand, gives him 
 the spur and lets him go ; — when once the wo- 
 men get hold of our hearts, George, heads are 
 out of the question." 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 293 
 
 <6 Miss Anstruther is incapable of crime or 
 folly, Arthur," said Arden. 
 
 fc< I think so too,'" said Dyson ; " the folly is 
 your uncle's, and the taking advantage of it is 
 no crime." 
 
 " I must not hear this language, Arthur," 
 said Arden ; " I 'm tired — let the conversation 
 drop, and I beseech you never let it be re- 
 sumed. What Miss Anstruther is, remains to be 
 proved — what my uncle is, is proved already ; 
 and not one syllable derogatory to his character 
 or conduct must be uttered in my presence, and 
 so, good night." 
 
 Saying which the friends parted, Dyson con- 
 vinced, that if the young lady should happen to 
 turn out well, she would inevitably and speedily 
 become Mrs. George Arden, — a circumstance 
 dreaded beyond all others by the hangers-on of 
 her devoted admirer, as certain to cause their 
 expulsion, and the substitution of comfort and 
 good order for riotous excess and profligate 
 libertinism in the Grosvenor Street establish- 
 ment. To avert such an evil, was, of course, 
 Dyson's object as much now as it had been when 
 the Lady Frances threatened the subversion of 
 the irregular republic, in which Mr. Dyson and 
 many of his friends had voices: to forward 
 
294 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 Noel's affair with Louisa was therefore Dyson's 
 game in the present instance, and every kind 
 of scheme was canvassed in his mind before he 
 went to sleep, by which, with the aid of that 
 inestimable spy in the enemy's camp, Mr. Wil- 
 son, they might produce, if it were to be pro- 
 duced, such an eclaircissement, as should at 
 once decide the question, wholly regardless of 
 the feelings of the exemplary old gentleman 
 who had treated them so kindly and hospi-, 
 tably. 
 
 The morning of the following day had been 
 fixed in the course of the evening for Miss An- 
 struther and the Colonel to call at George's 
 house in Grosvenor Street, which, as it was sup- 
 posed that the young lady had never seen it, it 
 was natural to expect she should wish to see, be- 
 cause the ebony cabinets, and tortoiseshell and 
 buhl commodes, and Etruscan vases, and Sevres 
 tables, and antique ornaments of Mr. George 
 Arden were celebrated all over London ; and, 
 accordingly, Dyson resolved upon choosing the 
 time when that visit was making to find out 
 Noel, if he happened not to be of the party, 
 and urge the necessity of expedition ; to point 
 out the dangerous symptoms and tendency of 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIRNDS. 295 
 
 George's mental disorder, and obtain at the 
 same time from Wilson such suggestions and 
 reports as might be most essential to the lauda- 
 ble undertaking which had for its object, either 
 the ruin of a virtuous and amiable girl, or a 
 violation of the rights of hospitality, which 
 would infallibly render an honourable old gen- 
 tleman miserable and contemptible. 
 
 All turned out to the heart's content of the 
 conspirators, and in furtherance of the plan, 
 Noel, who had not yet availed himself of the 
 Colonel's offer of apartments in his house, but 
 who had announced his intention of installing 
 himself that very evening, did not visit Park 
 Lane previously to the departure of its inha- 
 bitants to George's residence, and the Colonel 
 and Louisa departed alone, and arrived alone in 
 Grosvenor Street. 
 
 This to the young man was perfect delight ; 
 he again beheld his charming new acquaintance, 
 saw her again, all intellect, mildness, modesty, 
 and kindness, and his joy would have been un- 
 alloyed, had it not been for the painful anticipa- 
 tion of the announcement of some other visitors: 
 the Colonel saw how the charm was working, 
 and after having partaken of some luncheon, 
 
296 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 the old gentleman asked Louisa whether she 
 would lend him her carriage to go as far as 
 Hanover Square, or whether she were afraid of 
 trusting herself with his nephew till he came 
 back. 
 
 To George the proposition appeared the most 
 extraordinary: it seemed at once strange and 
 indelicate, and, more than any thing which had 
 yet transpired, induced him to doubt the real 
 nature of Louisa's connexion with his uncle: 
 he paused a moment anxiously for her answer, 
 determining to be guided entirely by that in his 
 final decision upon her conduct and character. 
 Judge his amazement, his positive mortification, 
 when Louisa, looking archly, and in a manner 
 to him wholly inexplicable, avowed her perfect 
 willingness fearlessly to submit herself to his 
 custody until his uncle should return. 
 
 It was this unreserved frankness in her man- 
 ner to George, the unembarrassed freedom which 
 so distinctly characterized her intercourse with 
 him, which established in Noel's mind the cer- 
 tainty of her impropriety ; he saw effects without 
 searching for causes, and little imagined that in 
 the newly arrived Miss Anstruther, he beheld 
 the constant playmate of George's youth, the 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 297 
 
 inseparable companion of his early years. As for 
 George himself, the complete alteration of her 
 person, which I have already noticed, destroyed 
 any recollection which he might have had of 
 her appearance as a child ; and now the very 
 singular absence of all ceremony, and her ready 
 and unembarrassed concession to a most unac- 
 countable whim of his uncle's, it must be con- 
 fessed, brought him a little round to his friend's 
 way of thinking. The real nature of Arden's 
 own sentiments towards her may be safely tried 
 by the test of his present feelings ; the joy and 
 pleasure which an ardent lover might naturally 
 anticipate in a lengthened tete-a-tete with such 
 a girl, instantly gave way to grief and disap- 
 pointment that she should so easily and readily 
 have granted him such an advantage. Still he 
 relied upon his vaunted knowledge of human 
 nature to ascertain during the next hour the 
 real merits of the case, and rejoiced at all events 
 that the opportunity which he had so anxiously 
 sought to speak to her of his uncle's proceedings, 
 had thus strangely and unexpectedly presented 
 itself. He was hardly prepared for the sequel ; 
 which, it must be confessed, seemed even in the 
 o5 
 
298 THE MAN OF MANY FKIENDS. 
 
 rage for extremes, so evident in his uncle's pre- 
 sent variable conduct, something like " carrying 
 the joke too far." 
 
 " One condition, George, I must make for 
 my fair friend," said the old gentleman. " It 
 is all very well, and extremely correct, con- 
 nected as we are, that she should trust herself 
 here during my short absence ; but I should not 
 wish that any of your numerous friends should 
 know the fact, and therefore you had better 
 give directions to your porter to admit no other 
 visitor till I return." 
 
 George looked at Louisa, doubtingly, as if 
 expecting either a remonstrance or a flood of 
 tears, or some violent exhibition of outraged de- 
 licacy or offended pride, instead of whkh all she 
 said was, addressing herself to George, " how 
 extremely prudent your uncle is, Mr. Arden ; 
 he really is the most considerate person alive." 
 
 This completed the mystification and redou- 
 bled ArdWs agitation: as the Colonel, however, 
 desired it, the orders were given, the old gen- 
 tleman retired, and George and Louisa found 
 themselves alone in the drawing-room. 
 
 It will not be difficult for my readers to ima- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 299 
 
 gine the embarrassment which, under the pre- 
 sent extraordinary circumstances, overcame poor 
 George : he felt his colour come and go, his 
 heart beat, and his bosom heaved : before him 
 was the object of his present admiration and 
 devotion — upon the conduct of the next half 
 hour depended perhaps his happiness for life. 
 Anxious beyond measure, if possible, to satisfy 
 the doubts and dispel the apprehensions which 
 Noel had at first excited, and which the ex- 
 traordinary conduct of the young lady herself 
 seemed in some degree to justify, he dreaded 
 even the result more than the uncertainty ; in- 
 deed at the moment his uncle left the room he 
 did not exactly perceive (even if he had made 
 up his mind to the measure) by what means to 
 attain to the knowledge, the possession of which 
 he so ardently desired. 
 
 The door was closed and yet the youthful 
 couple remained silent ; it was the eloquent si- 
 lence of deep feeling : he looked at Louisa, and, 
 powerfully contrasted with his own agitation, 
 beheld her placidly and quietly turning over 
 the leaves of a book, from which it must be 
 owned she at the moment raised her eyes with 
 
300 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 an extremely equivocal expression, conveying to 
 her companion a sort of arch reproach for his 
 timidity and perturbation. 
 
 This George saw, and knowing that in mo- 
 ments of trial and circumstances of peril and 
 perplexity women possess a presence of mind 
 and power of acting which nature has denied to 
 man, felt at once warmed by Louisa's encourag- 
 ing look, puzzled as to its exact meaning, vexed 
 at his own suppositions, and ashamed of his own 
 pusillanimity; — yet to address her in any lan- 
 guage but that of friendship would be absurd — 
 he should render himself ridiculous ; while, if he 
 allowed the favourable opportunity of saying 
 something to pass away, he doubtlessly would 
 incur the contempt of his fair companion. 
 
 The veriest novice could not have made his 
 advances upon such an occasion more awkwardly 
 than our boasted professor of anthroposophy ; 
 at length he broke the silence by some common- 
 place question, to which Louisa gave an answer 
 so grave and elaborate, that he was convinced 
 she had no disposition to remain mute, whatever 
 he might have. 
 
 Having, however, given the coup d'essai, 
 George rallied his spirits, and after gazing on 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 301 
 
 her for a moment, proceeded with a little faulter- 
 ing hesitation to tell her that he was most an- 
 xious to seize the opportunity afforded them 
 by the eccentricity of his dear uncle to make a 
 confidence which he trusted to her goodness to 
 excuse. 
 
 Louisa bowed assent, and listened, having, 
 as I verily believe, prepared herself for an 
 abrupt declaration from the impetuous young 
 gentleman. " It is impossible, Miss Anstru- 
 ther," continued Arden, " not to perceive that 
 my uncle is proceeding in a career, as little re- 
 concileable to his habits and propensities, as 
 it is consonant with his age or circumstances. 
 Will you tell me how long, and under what 
 influence, this extraordinary change has taken 
 place ?" 
 
 At the conclusion of this appeal, the expres- 
 sion of Louisa's countenance was completely 
 changed, and she could hardly conceal the sur- 
 prise, not unmingled with pleasure, which she 
 felt, when she found her swain devoting to the 
 interests of his uncle the critical hour which 
 she apprehended he might have employed, if 
 not in a worthier, at least in a very different 
 manner. 
 
302 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " That," said she, " I cannot tell you, Mr. 
 Arden ; but I, who owe all to the Colonel, see 
 it as plainly as you do : I lament it perhaps as 
 bitterly ; for when he was in the country, sur- 
 rounded by suitable friends, engaged in rational 
 pursuits, respected and esteemed as he was, he 
 was indeed in his proper sphere. Here his con- 
 duct is extravagant and extraordinary ; he has 
 formed sudden and close intimacies with men so 
 much his juniors, whose accomplishments are of 
 a different school, whose manners are of a dif- 
 ferent age, that I tremble at the prospect before 
 us, yet, being a dependent, how dare I speak." 
 
 " Then you," said George, " have never en- 
 couraged the disposition which so strikingly 
 evinces itself?" 
 
 " I !" exclaimed Louisa, " I ! who love your 
 uncle r 
 
 " Love ! Miss Anstruther," repeated George. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Arden, love, with all a daugh- 
 ter's affection. Surely, Sir, grateful love such 
 as mine is neither improper nor unnatural." 
 
 " I — am — wholly unaware, Miss Anstruther," 
 stammered George, — " of — the— circumstances 
 in which — " 
 
 " You shall be informed of them all," said 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 303 
 
 Louisa, " at any time you please, except this ; 
 the story is long, and not a good subject for 
 a tSte-a-t£te" 
 
 This bit of naivete upset all the hopes her 
 former speech had excited ; he recurred to the 
 print-book in the corner the evening before, and 
 to Dyson's raillery of his timid conduct upon 
 that occasion ; his doubts were again excited, and 
 he was at the moment mightily puzzled how to 
 act. 
 
 " Pray," said be, " allow me to ask one ques- 
 tion. You have been some time resident with 
 my uncle, did you ever see at his house, or hear 
 him speak of a cousin of mine, Louisa Neville ?" 
 
 This unexpected question was a nervous one, 
 and startled Louisa visibly. She faultered a 
 little, blushed, looked down, and merely said, 
 " she had never met her." 
 
 It was clear then that the Colonel did not 
 introduce Miss Anstruther to his female friends, 
 and equally clear that Miss Anstruther 's embar- 
 rassment at the moment arose from the neces- 
 sity she was under of avowing the fact, or at 
 least admitting it. 
 
 " Did you never hear my uncle speak of 
 her?" said George. 
 
304 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Frequently ," replied the young lady. " I 
 have heard your uncle say, that you were 
 the greatest possible friends as children — play- 
 fellows?" 
 
 " True," said George, " true, Miss Anstru- 
 ther." 
 
 " And, I believe he thinks," continued 
 Louisa, " that you entertain some lingering 
 affection for her now, and still more, that the 
 feeling is mutual." 
 
 " I was afraid of that" said George. " It 
 is a point upon which I must undeceive him. I 
 do assure you, Miss Anstruther, and I speak it 
 in all the candour and sincerity of my heart, 
 that she does not retain the smallest share of it. 
 She was a good-natured, hoydenish, white-haired 
 girl, full of fun and laugh, and I was a boy who 
 liked her mirth, and romped with her, and — " 
 
 " Pray," said Louisa, recollecting the ten 
 thousand pranks which, in the innocence of 
 their young hearts, they had played with each 
 other, " don't make me your confidante. I dare 
 say, if the truth were known, the young lady is 
 equally heart-whole with yourself." 
 
 " I fervently hope she is," said Arden, se- 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 305 
 
 riously, " J have no heart for her, Miss Anstru- 
 ther." 
 
 " This is a subject, Mr. Arden, I think we 
 had better not touch upon," said Louisa, in a 
 tone equally grave. " Suppose, by way of 
 changing it, we amuse ourselves by criticizing 
 your animated friend, Mr. Noel." 
 
 " Noel, Miss Anstruther I" said George, 
 gravely ; " how comes Mr. Noel to be associated 
 in your mind with such a subject ." 
 
 " Why, very naturally," replied Louisa, co- 
 quettishly. " Mr. Noel, I think, appears to have 
 a heart to lend, at all events." 
 
 " Perhaps you admire Noel?" asked George. 
 
 " I think him extremely handsome," answer- 
 ed Louisa, " gay, and good-humoured." 
 
 " Indeed ! yes, he is," muttered George. 
 
 " In short, I conclude he must be all that is 
 amiable," continued Louisa, " from possessing 
 so considerable a share of your friendship." 
 
 " Friendship !" repeated George, bitterly. 
 
 " Your uncle seems perfectly enchanted with 
 him." 
 
 " My uncle's feelings are, of course, uncon- 
 trollable by me," said George ; " but what do 
 you feel towards him, Miss Anstruther ?" 
 
306 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS, 
 
 " Umph," said Louisa, purposely hesitating ; 
 " I have already said, I think him pleasant, and 
 handsome, and — ? 
 
 " Oh ! very, very," said George, interrupting 
 her hastily, not knowing what he said. 
 
 " But as my fate is sealed in this world," 
 added Louisa, " I have no chance of being ho- 
 noured by his countenance or affection." 
 
 " Miss Anstruther," said George, warmly, 
 " this sort of conduct and conversation is not 
 natural to you. You are at one moment all that 
 human being could wish you ; at others you 
 speak and act as if you would drive me mad." 
 
 " Mr. Arden !" exclaimed Louisa. 
 
 " It is true, all true," cried George : " you 
 are a riddle-~-a mystery: you seem to possess 
 some potent spell to command my destiny. I 
 know nothing of what I am saying; but, I 
 conjure you, I implore you, relieve my anxiety 
 — explain — tell me whom it is I address, and 
 under what circumstances this close alliance 
 between you and my uncle has been brought 
 about." 
 
 Saying which, the young enthusiast, to en- 
 force his petition, actually threw himself upon 
 his knees before the astonished young lady; who, 
 rising from her chair at the same moment, gave 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 307 
 
 a new and clearer effect to the scene which burst 
 upon Colonel Arden's sight, who, having that 
 moment returned from his visit to Hanover 
 Square, entered his nephew's drawing-room ex- 
 actly at the interesting crisis. 
 
 " Good heavens !" exclaimed Louisa, " Mr. 
 Arden !" 
 
 " Miss Anstruther, hear me !" cried George, 
 not perceiving the arrival of the Colonel," my 
 uncle — " 
 
 " Well, Sir, what have you to say about 
 your uncle ?" cried the old gentleman : " get off 
 your knees as fast as possible, I desire, Sir." 
 
 Arden was petrified. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this, young 
 folks ?" said the Colonel. 
 
 " To what have you exposed me, Mr. Ar- 
 den ?" said Louisa. 
 
 "lam ruined !" said George. 
 
 " Don't disturb yourself, Mr. Arden," said 
 the Colonel ; " this is, to be sure, what may be 
 called making the most of time, and evincing a 
 high sense of honourable delicacy towards my 
 poor little lamb. Have you been frightened, 
 dearest ?" added he, addressing Miss Neville, 
 who be it understood was actually in a dreadful 
 state of alarm lest she should laugh outright 
 
308 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 at the comical distress of the unsuspecting play- 
 fellow of her youth. 
 
 " Not much, Sir," answered she. 
 
 " In the country," continued the Colonel, 
 " true love is timid, silent, watchful, and re- 
 spectful j — here — " 
 
 " Love F exclaimed Miss Neville, " it was in 
 the language of anger and rage that your ne- 
 phew was addressing me when you came in." 
 
 " An odd position," said the Colonel, " to 
 have taken up for that purpose ; to be sure, in 
 our service the front ranks fire kneeling, but 
 then George is no soldier. However, there 
 seems but one course for me to adopt at the 
 moment. Let me see you to your carriage, 
 love, and remove you from this scene of conta- 
 mination to a safer place, where by forbidding 
 the future visits of this rash young gentle- 
 man I may place you beyond the reach of 
 insult and intemperance." Then turning to 
 George, who had thrown himself upon a sofa, 
 and covered his face with his hands, he told him 
 that he should return as soon as he had sent 
 Miss Anstruther home, and begged him to re- 
 main till then where he was. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FEIENDS. 309 
 
 The Colonel withdrew his fair charge from 
 the apartment. However, if truth must be told, 
 Louisa did not at all admire leaving her poor 
 victim in his distress without some explanation, 
 or something like forgiveness. The crime would 
 have been venial even had the supplication been 
 of a different nature, although it must be ad- 
 mitted, in the present state of society, some- 
 what extraordinary; for in these less formal 
 days than those of our ancestors, a lover known 
 to have been on his knees, loses his character, as 
 certainly as a horse does for the same fault. 
 
 All her attempts at soothing or conciliating, 
 however, were purposely frustrated by her un- 
 cle, who having despatched her to Park Lane, 
 returned to his nephew. 
 
 " Well, Mr. George Arden," said he, " this 
 is a pretty specimen of your decency and deco- 
 rum, and a kind proof of the high respect you 
 have for my wishes and commands. I warned 
 you from any advances to this young lady, be- 
 cause I told you she was under an engagement 
 of marriage with a particular friend of mine ; I 
 place her with confidence under your roof and 
 protection, and the moment my back is turned 
 
310 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 you seize the opportunity to outrage her deli- 
 cacy by conduct so extraordinary, that, if I had 
 not seen it myself, no power on earth would 
 have convinced me that you were capable of it." 
 
 " Uncle," said George, " you are deceived." 
 
 " Deceived ! what do you mean by deceived ? 
 Did I not see you actually on your knees to 
 Miss Anstruther ?" 
 
 " You did, — but you little know the cause of 
 my solicitude," said the agitated young man ; 
 " you little know what I implored." 
 
 " I certainly don't know," said the Colonel, 
 " but I think, George, I could venture a pretty 
 shrewd guess." 
 
 " It was love — affection !" sobbed George. 
 
 " I thought so," interrupted his uncle. 
 
 " For yow, Sir," added the young man. 
 
 " Love for me ?" cried the Colonel, " what, 
 kneel to Miss Anstruther, against approaching 
 whom I so seriously warned you, to evince your 
 love for me ? No, no, Sir ! don't attempt to 
 palliate your crime by hypocritical professions 
 of affection for me! — The girl is a charming 
 girl, and if I had not given you the timely no- 
 tice I refer to, I shouldn't have cared, — save 
 and except that, under the circumstances, in 
 
THE MAN OF MAKY FRIENDS. 3ll 
 
 your own house, and after so short an ac- 
 quaintance, the measure was somewhat desperate. 
 However, as I have said before, the intercourse 
 must cease,— I shall observe perfect silence on 
 the subject, and I would advise you to do the 
 same.'''' 
 
 " Uncle, uncle ! you misunderstand me," said 
 George : " I was imploring Miss Anstruther to 
 tell me by what tie she possessed the influence 
 over you which she evidently has. Having once 
 ascertained that point I would have prayed her 
 to exert it to save you." , 
 
 "Save me, young gentleman !*— what d'ye 
 mean ?" said the Colonel. 
 
 " Forgive me, Sir, but I cannot shut my 
 eyes to passing scenes : the style in which you 
 are living is far beyond the means which you 
 have always told me you possessed. You have 
 servants who are useless to you,-— carriages un- 
 tenanted, — and horses never mounted." 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " And then, Sir," added George, " you seem 
 so implicitly to believe every thing which those 
 by whom you are surrounded choose to tell you ; 
 and — Noel, Sir,— you — you— have lent Noel 
 money." 
 
312 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " Umph !" said the Colonel, " so have you, 
 George." 
 
 " True, Sir, — but I am younger, and — " 
 
 " Richer, perhaps," said the Colonel ; " how- 
 ever I conclude that you would not have been 
 foolish enough to lend him money, if you had 
 not expected him to repay you ; besides, I sup- 
 pose I may do as I please with my own pro- 
 perty ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly, Sir," continued George, "but 
 — I am sure you will forgive me — you have 
 given Noel apartments in your house." 
 
 " Well, what then ?" said old Arden ; " he 
 was staying with you last year." 
 
 " True, Sir, but " 
 
 " But what ?" asked the Colonel ; " you re- 
 commended him to me as being at once the ora- 
 cle and model of all his acquaintance." 
 
 " But you, Sir, are not living alone." 
 
 " Well! what then ?" 
 
 " The best of men, uncle, where women are 
 concerned," said George, " are " 
 
 " Why, you do not mean to insinuate,'' said 
 the Colonel, " that your honourable and excel- 
 lent friend Noel is without principle." 
 
 "No; only " 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 313 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you speak thus," said 
 his uncle, gravely, " particularly after the re- 
 cent exhibition we witnessed in this very room. 
 Surely you, who have studied human nature so 
 closely, as you say you have, cannot, for two or 
 three years, have been so extremely intimate 
 with a man on whom you have no reliance. If 
 this is all you have to advance in defence of 
 your conduct towards Miss Anstruther, under 
 your own roof, it is but little. I repeat that, for 
 many reasons it will be wise to maintain silence 
 upon the subject altogether ; but, in the mean 
 time, you must abstain from visiting in Park 
 Lane." 
 
 " Oh, uncle, uncle !" 
 
 " I will take care that Miss Anstruther's 
 residence in London shall be shortened. After 
 her departure, I trust, we shall again be as soci- 
 able as ever ; but during her stay, the duty I 
 owe to her family and character forces me to 
 say, that my doors are closed against you." 
 
 " Once more, dearest uncle, listen," exclaimed 
 George. 
 
 " On any subject but this," answered the 
 Colonel ; " I dine with you to-day, by my 
 own invitation — at seven, I conclude ?" 
 
 vol. i. p 
 
3 14 THE MAN OF MANY FBIENDS. 
 
 George answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " Do not imagine that I am angry, George," 
 added the old gentleman ; "I am only mortified 
 and disappointed. However, I am quite sure it 
 is wisest and best for all parties that I should 
 hear no more of the affair — indeed, at present, I 
 have no time, for I promised Wilson * 
 
 " There again," interrupted George, " that 
 fellow Wilson, — I wished, Sir, to put you on 
 your guard against his tricks — he — he " 
 
 " Is what you always considered him," said 
 the Colonel, " an invaluable servant ; and you 
 must excuse me, if I beg you will not utter 
 one syllable to his disadvantage. I have no 
 doubt but that you are sore, and feel your pride 
 hurt that he quitted you so abruptly ; but you 
 should recollect, that it was by your own per- 
 mission." 
 
 " It was because , " 
 
 " Never mind, never mind, 1 ' said old Arden, 
 cutting him short, " J have got him, and am 
 quite satisfied — you have lost him, and are dis- 
 pleased. Can there be two stronger proofs of 
 his real worth ?" 
 
 The Colonel had hardly concluded this speech 
 when some visitors were announced; and the 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 315 
 
 old gentleman quitted his nephew's house, to 
 organize his plans, with respect to the future 
 prospects of the hopeful, but by no means 
 " fortunate youth." 
 
 It had been arranged by the Colonel, that 
 Louisa should go and dine with Mrs. Abberly 
 on this important day, and accordingly, on his 
 return home, he dispatched his fair niece to his 
 lawyer's residence, in Montague Place, where 
 she underwent the heavy details of a plebeian 
 dinner. To grace the board, there was, first, 
 a tureen filled with stuff, made at a neighbour- 
 ing pastrycook's, (sent home in a copper-pan, 
 upon the head of a dirty boy, in a linen jacket, 
 with a paper of sweet cakes under his arm,) 
 called mock turtle,— a glue-like mixture, illus- 
 trated with dirt boluses, much in use amongst 
 modern Goths: secondly, the head and shoul- 
 ders of a cod-fish, as large as a porpoise; and a 
 haunch of mutton, kept till half putrid, decorated 
 with a paper ruffle, to look, and, if possible, smeli 
 like venison. The second course consisted of 
 three twice-roasted pigeons, ambushed in pars- 
 ley, some limp jelly, some sky-blue 6/awf-mange, 
 and a huge fruit pie covered with crust ! 
 
 The poor girl, suffocated by the oppressive 
 
316 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 smells which assailed her, and worried to death 
 by Mrs. Abberly to eat, and eat, and eat, passed 
 a wretched day, and when, with the dessert, came 
 again all the little Abberlys, as usual, she was 
 less philosophical, and less engaging, than she 
 ordinarily contrived to be upon similar occa- 
 sions. 
 
 In addition to all her other little miseries, I 
 cannot avoid noticing the presence of a young 
 underbred gentleman, a nephew of Mrs. Ab- 
 berly, who worried her to death by his im- 
 portunate civilities. 
 
 He was a little, stout, black-haired man, with 
 extremely red cheeks, beetle brows, and a white 
 forehead ; extravagantly dressed, and affecting 
 to know every body and every thing ; his conver- 
 sation was full of plebeian quaintnesses, and his 
 manner characterized by unbounded familiarity. 
 He punned with the father, and played with the 
 children, was on excellent terms with the lady 
 of the house, drank three cups of hot tea, and 
 flirted with the governess, which last proceeding 
 was a considerable relief to Louisa; who, by the 
 calm, placid manner in which she received the 
 abrupt advances of the pert youth, drove him 
 to the well-known vulgar Highgate alternative, 
 which he had previously informed his friends he 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 317 
 
 had, " when quite a boy, just for fun," been ac- 
 tually sworn to, at some public-house in that ex- 
 alted village. 
 
 Louisa, in fact, never was more uncomfort- 
 able : she had, during the morning been en- 
 gaged in a conversation, to her, of the most 
 interesting character; her whole mind was occu- 
 pied by the subject of it; she reflected on the 
 declaration which George had so candidly made, 
 that he had no heart for Miss Neville, and yet 
 was so little satisfied of the real motive for his 
 prostration when they were interrupted, that 
 she could not decide whether slie herself, in her 
 assumed character, was, or was not, actually her 
 own rival, in her real one. Her diffidence was 
 such that she could hardly imagine her " rural 
 charms'' 1 capable of producing an effect upon 
 George, so sudden and so serious as the capti- 
 vation of his heart ; and she had the modesty to 
 set down all his agitation, all his wildness, and 
 all his devotion to her, to his affection for her 
 uncle — a belief, which, if less complimentary to 
 her own attractions, most assuredly did not de- 
 teriorate from her high esteem and regard for 
 George. 
 
 When a woman loves, and is determined to 
 love, it matters little what the accident or inci- 
 
318 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 dent may be in which her beloved is involved — 
 all things are sure in her mind to tend to his 
 advantage ; and under the powerful influence of 
 the rosy god, his votaries discover (perhaps too 
 late) that the fillet which he so readily lends 
 them, is sufficiently long to cover the ears as 
 well as the eyes. It must be confessed, that 
 Louisa was placed in a difficult position: if 
 George had enthusiastically remembered her as 
 
 " The hallow'd form 
 
 Which love first traced," 
 
 it would have been clear, that the impression 
 then made was of a nature not to be effaced by 
 her present appearance, manner, and accom- 
 plishments; and although she longed to recall 
 to his recollection those hours when they were 
 all the world to each other, she still rejoiced in 
 the hope, since the hand of nature had so com- 
 pletely changed her, that the power which her 
 childish beauty had given her at one time over 
 George had subsided ; and could she have sup- 
 posed, as I before said, that her new influence 
 in her new character was supreme, she would 
 have been saved a world of pain and anxiety, 
 which she suffered during the siege which she 
 was sustaining in Mrs. Abberly's drawing-room, 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 319 
 
 from the quibbling nonsense of Mr. Tadpole, 
 and the practical familiarities of the juvenile 
 branches of the family. 
 
 It was late in the evening, and the hour had 
 arrived at which the carriage was expected to 
 take Louisa home, when Mr. Abberly's under- 
 sized man-servant, whose thick creaking shoes 
 (as the sounding horn foretels the coming mail) 
 always announced his approach long before his 
 appearance, delivered a note to Louisa, men- 
 tioning at the same time that her maid was be- 
 low. This event somewhat surprised her, but 
 conscious that all her uncle's measures, inde- 
 pendently of being correct, and of its being her 
 bounden duty unhesitatingly to obey them, 
 tended to the great point of George's deliver- 
 ance, she sought no farther than to follow his 
 instructions, which were, that she should en- 
 treat the favour of a bed for that night at 
 Mr. Abberly's — a favour no sooner asked than 
 granted. Miss Gubbins could sleep with Sophy, 
 and Miss Gubbins's bed could be got ready for 
 Miss Neville ; an arrangement which seemed 
 vastly agreeable to every body concerned, ex- 
 cept Miss Gubbins herself, who, being a go- 
 verness of the second or third class, did not 
 preserve the economy of her toilette with that 
 
320 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 care which marks the nick-nackeries of more 
 refined and better regulated ladies of the same 
 profession. The drawers of her dressing-glass 
 were full of pins and old papilliotes, her hair- 
 brushes were few and ancient, her tooth-powder 
 was crumpled up in the envelope of an old letter, 
 the tin box in which it was formerly kept hav- 
 ing been converted, by the economical fair one, 
 into a receptacle for some cold cream, which she 
 had smugged from Mrs. Abberly; while her 
 dry and dustful tooth-brush and nail-brush 
 slumbered together in one small tray. All these 
 dreadful discrepancies were to be remedied be- 
 fore Miss Neville's maid could possibly go into 
 the room ; and then there were half-a-dozen pair 
 of old shoes in one drawer, and a ragged bed- 
 gown in another, and her only comb was dirty, 
 and there were two little vial bottles and a box 
 of corn-plaster in the drawer of the basin-stand, 
 and then — 
 
 Poor Louisa saw the dismay her request had 
 occasioned, but all objections were over-ruled. 
 Miss Gubbins protested that it was not the least 
 trouble in the world — quite a pleasure — and it 
 was so lucky Sophy had been let to sit up, be- 
 cause Miss Gubbins would not disturb her in 
 going to bed. 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 321 
 
 " Do you sleep with Miss Gubbins, Sophy," 
 said Mr. Tadpole to the eldest girl, turning 
 over the leaves of a music-book, so that Miss 
 Gubbins might hear the question, and nobody 
 else. 
 
 " Yes," said Sophy. 
 
 " Oh !" sighed Tadpole, turning his eyes as 
 far round towards the governess as the stiffness 
 of his collar would permit. 
 
 " And we'll have such fun in the morning," 
 continued Sophy. 
 
 " Fun !" said Tadpole, " happy child !" and 
 patting her on the head, he rose from the music- 
 stool, and walked towards the window, perfectly 
 satisfied that Miss Gubbins not only had heard, 
 but understood and appreciated the whole of 
 the interesting colloquy. 
 
 To say that Miss Gubbins did not hear it, 
 would be to say that which is not true ; a sud- 
 den contraction of her brow announced the fact : 
 but it did not convey an expression of anger; 
 it was only meant as a warning glance to Tad- 
 pole not to talk so loud, or so plainly, before 
 Mrs. Abberly ; yet so fond, and at the same 
 time so stupid was Mr. Tadpole, that he never 
 rallied his spirits after the young person in 
 question had quitted the apartment to put her 
 
322 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 " room to rights," fearing that he had seriously 
 offended her by his vulgar allusion. 
 
 So disagreeable a termination to so disagree- 
 able a day, Louisa could hardly have antici- 
 pated. It was not that she felt annoyed by the 
 inconvenience of sleeping away from the com- 
 forts of her own dressing-room — it was not the 
 feeling that she had turned the governess out of 
 her bed which annoyed her : upon these sub- 
 jects, which would have agitated smaller minds, 
 Louisa was quite calm and composed; but it 
 was because she was thus suddenly and inex- 
 plicably separated from her uncle — it was be- 
 cause she apprehended that the change in his 
 measures had its origin in some sudden altera- 
 tion in George's proceedings — in short, it was 
 because she conjured up dangers and difficulties 
 to him who, in fact, was her heart's lord, that 
 she was feverish, and restless, and uncomfort- 
 able. From Harris, her maid, she could learn 
 nothing, except that Mr. Noel had taken pos- 
 session of his apartments in Park Lane that 
 afternoon, and that Mr. Wilson was extremely 
 anxious in his enquiries about her young lady ; 
 that the Colonel had sent for her (Harris), had 
 instructed her how to proceed; to make up a 
 
THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 323 
 
 sac-de-nuit for her mistress, and to carry it, with 
 a note from himself, in a hackney-coach to Mon- 
 tague Place, so that no discovery where Miss 
 Anstruther really was might be made by any 
 tattling amongst the servants — a discovery, the 
 value of which was raised in the old gentle- 
 man's mind proportionably to the extraordi- 
 nary anxiety he saw amongst his young asso- 
 ciates to make it. 
 
 Louisa, therefore, gained little by the commu- 
 nication of her maid; but, nevertheless, more 
 had been doing in reality than any of us per- 
 haps may expect. 
 
 It will be remembered that George on this 
 day gave a dinner to his uncle ; the party was 
 to consist of themselves, Arthur Dyson, Cap- 
 tain Macey, Mr. Mead, Mr. Dalby, and Mr. 
 Bertie Noel. 
 
 Bertie Noel, however, had another game to 
 play, and it was his intemperate anxiety to 
 carry his point which threw him off his guard, 
 perhaps fortunately, and laid open his prepara- 
 tions to the enemy. 
 
 Noel, when he first saw Louisa, had, as we 
 know, determined in his own mind that she was 
 actually what Wilson had originally described 
 
324 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 her to be, and having made this resolve, every 
 innocent action, every thoughtless word of her's 
 tended to confirm him in the opinion. It would, 
 perhaps, be unfair to Miss Neville, to allow my 
 reader to suppose that there could have been any 
 thing in her manner or conduct likely to justify a 
 suspicion so gross and indelicate ; but the truth 
 is, that her real attachment and devoted affection 
 to George shewed themselves (unconsciously on 
 her part) in all she said and did ; and Noel, be- 
 lieving, as indeed Arden himself believed, that 
 they were strangers to each other, argued in his 
 manner, that if she were so excessively warm and 
 familiar with his friend, who, though gay, and 
 animated, and kind, and liberal, was neither so 
 handsome nor so accomplished as himself, and 
 comparatively knew nothing of women or the 
 world, it merely required a fair opportunity to 
 play himself off to advantage, to convince Louisa 
 of the folly of her choice, and divert her pas- 
 sions and feelings from the course which they 
 appeared to be taking, into one more satisfactory 
 and flattering to himself. 
 
 With this predisposition to believe Miss An- 
 struther easily to be won, and with a determi- 
 nation to take the earliest possible advantage of 
 
THE MAN OF MANY' FRIENDS. 325 
 
 the extraordinary simplicity of her old friend 
 the Colonel, no sooner did Bertie Noel reflect 
 that at George's dinner Miss Anstruther would 
 certainly not be, but that, on the contrary, (as 
 he concluded she had no female acquaintance in 
 London,) she would as certainly pass the even- 
 ing at home, in her boudoir in Park Lane, than 
 he determined to avoid Grosvenor Street, upon 
 some pretext probable enough to satisfy George, 
 and dining somewhere early, and alone, seize the 
 opportunity he so ardently desired of pleading 
 his own cause to Louisa, and displaying to her 
 astonished senses all his charms and perfections. 
 Accordingly he wrote a laconic note to George, 
 took a cutlet at Long's, stinted himself to three 
 glasses of wine, and before ten o'clock repaired 
 to his new residence, at the Colonel's; that being 
 the hour at which Harris had been despatched 
 by the old gentleman to prevent his niece's 
 return. 
 
 When Colonel Arden arrived at George's he 
 had no notion of any intended operations on the 
 part of Bertie Noel against poor Louisa, but as 
 soon as he found that the young gentleman had 
 avoided dining in Grosvenor Street, upon a pre- 
 text made to his nephew, which was wholly dif- 
 
 VOL. I. Q, 
 
326 THE MAN OF MANY FRIENDS. 
 
 ferent from that which he had offered to him- 
 self; not only were his suspicions awakened, but 
 he instantly saw the absolute impropriety of 
 leaving his niece under such circumstances at 
 home ; for he had previously resolved to stay 
 at his nephew's party until it should finally 
 break up, let that hour be what it might. 
 
 Accordingly the old gentleman sent one of 
 his servants, who was staying in Grosvenor 
 Street, to summon the faithful Harris to his 
 council ; and excusing himself for a few mo- 
 ments from the convivial board, gave her the 
 instructions which we have already seen she 
 so well and truly fulfilled. 
 
 END OF VOL. 
 
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