CHAPTER XVII. A COUNTRY-HOUSE

  When Massingbred arrived at Cro' Martin, he found Repton at the doorawaiting him. "I find," said he, "there is little need of introducingyou here. Your father was an old acquaintance of Martin's; they sattogether for years in Parliament, and Lady Dorothea was related toyour family. But here he comes." And Martin approached, with his handextended in cordial welcome. No one ever knew better how to do thehonors of his house, nor could throw more graceful courtesy into thefirst steps of acquaintanceship. Massingbred, too, was well calculatedto appreciate this gift. He had a most intense esteem for "manner,"and enjoyed even the necessity it imposed upon himself of exertion toplease. With sincere satisfaction was it that he accepted an invitationto pass some days there, and at once despatched a servant to Magennis'shouse for his trunks.

  The adventure of the morning was alluded to but once, and then in ajocular strain, as an incident of no moment whatever; and Massingbredretired to his room to dress for dinner, wondering within himself if heshould find the other members of the family as much to his liking as theworthy host had been.

  A dinner-party was a rare event at Cro' Martin. The isolation in whichthey lived was rarely broken by a visitor; and when, by rareaccident, some solitary stranger did present himself with a letter ofintroduction, his stay was merely of a few hours. Now, however, thecompany included, in addition to the family, Repton, Massingbred, andNelligan, besides Miss Henderson, who was on that day to appear atdinner. The quondam college friends had not met; neither had MissMartin ever seen her governess; so that there was no small degree ofanticipation as to how such elements would harmonize and agree.

  When Massingbred entered the drawing-room, he found Miss Henderson therealone; and at once believing she could be no other than Miss Martin,he proceeded to introduce himself in the best manner he could. Herreception was perfect in ease and self-possession, and they soon foundthemselves engaged in a lively discussion as to the scenery, the peopleand their habits, of which they both appeared to have a very similarappreciation. Lady Dorothea next made her appearance; and, advancingtowards Massingbred, welcomed him with what, for her, was the extremeof cordiality. "Your mother was a Caradoc, Mr. Massingbred, and theCaradocs are all of our family; so let me claim relationship at once."

  With all the pretensions of a very fine lady, Lady Dorothea knew howto unite very agreeable qualities, not the less successful in hercaptivations, that she never exercised them without a real desireto please; so that Massingbred soon saw how in the wilds of drearyConnemara there existed a little oasis of polish and civilization thatwould have done honor to the most splendid society of London or Paris.

  Nor was Massingbred himself less pleasing to her. It was so long, somany, many years since she had met with one fresh from that great worldwhich alone she valued!

  Correspondence had kept her to a certain extent informed upon thechanges and vicissitudes of society,--the births, deaths, marriages,separations, quarrels, and other disasters of those dear friends forwhose griefs absence and time offer so many consolations! But then, theactual appearance, the _coup d'oil_ of that world could only be impartedby an observer, imbued with all the spirit that gives observation itspeculiar piquancy. This she found in him; and so agreeably exercised wasit, that she actually heard dinner announced without attending, and onlyas she arose from her seat was reminded to present him to Miss Martin,by the brief phrase, "My niece, Mr. Massingbred;" while she took hisarm, with a glance at Mr. Repton, that plainly said, "You are deposed."

  The passage to the dinner-room lay through three spacious and splendidrooms, which now were brilliantly lighted up, and lined with servants inrich liveries,--a degree of state Massingbred was not a little pleasedat; partly suspecting that it was intended to do himself honor. As theymoved slowly through the last of these, the door suddenly opened, andyoung Nelligan entered. He had returned late from a long ride, andheard nothing whatever of Massing-bred's arrival. With an exclamationof "Jack--Massingbred!" he bounded forward. But the other showed norecognition of him; and directing Lady Dorothea's attention to therichness of a picture-frame, passed calmly on into the dinner-room.

  "You must bring up the rear alone, Nelligan," said Martin, who had givenhis arm to Miss Henderson; and Joe followed, almost overwhelmed withmingled shame and amazement.

  For an instant the possibility of mistake assuaged his sense ofmortification; but no sooner did he find himself at table, and directlyopposite to Massingbred, than he perceived there was no ground whateverfor this consolation. It was, indeed, Massingbred, just as he had seenhim the first day in the Commons Hall at dinner, and when his cold,supercilious manner had struck him so disagreeably.

  What a terrible vengeance for all the superiority Nelligan had displayedover him in the Examination Hall was Massingbred's present success; forsuccess it was. With all that consummate readiness the habit ofsociety imparts, Jack could talk well on a great variety of topics,and possessed, besides, that especial tact to make others so farparticipators in his observations that they felt a partnership in theagreeability. Lady Dorothea was perfectly charmed with him; it was thetriumph, as it were, of one of her own set. His anecdotes--not verypointed or curious in themselves--had the marked characteristic ofalways referring to distinguished individuals; so that what wasdeficient in wit was more than compensated by the rank of the actors.Martin enjoyed his conversation with all his own complacent ease, andfelt delighted with one who could play all the game without anadversary. Mary was pleased and astonished together--the pleasure beingeven less than the amazement--at all he seemed to know of life and theworld, and how intimately one so young seemed to have mixed in society.As for Repton, he relished the other's powers with the true zest of apleasant talker; they were of different styles, and no disagreeablerivalry marred the appreciation.

  Amidst all these silent or spoken testimonies sat poor Nelligan,overwhelmed with shame. Massingbred had refused to recognize him; and itwas left to his own gloomy thoughts to search out the reason. At firstJoe avoided meeting the other's look; he dreaded he knew not what ofimpertinence or insult, to which the time and place could offer noreparation; but gradually he grew to perceive that Massingbred's coldeye met his own without a spark of meaning; nor was there in voice,manner, or bearing, a single evidence of constraint or awkwardness to bedetected.

  Miss Henderson alone seemed to listen to him with easy indifference; andmore than once, when Jack put forth his most showy pretensions, he wassecretly mortified to see how little impression he had made on the darkbeauty with the haughty smile. This was exactly the kind of defiancethat Massingbred never declined, and he determined within himself toattempt the conquest. As the party returned to the drawing-room, heasked Lady Dorothea to present him more formally to the young lady whoseacquaintance he had dared to obtrude upon before dinner; but she coldlysaid,--

  "Oh, it's no matter; she's only the governess." An explanation shedeemed quite sufficient to subdue any rising feeling of interestregarding her.

  "And the gentleman who sat next her at dinner?" asked he.

  "A neighbor,--that is, the son of one of our borough people. I have notintroduced him to you; for, of course, you are not likely to meet again.As you were remarking, awhile ago, society in England is graduallyundergoing that change which in France was accomplished in a year ortwo."

  "With the aid of the guillotine and the 'lanterne,'" said Jack, smiling.

  "Just so; they used sharp remedies for a quick cure. But I own to youthat I have not yet reconciled myself, nor do I see how I shall everreconcile myself, to intimacy with a class not only whose habits andinstincts, but whose very natures are adverse to our own. That youngman now, for instance, they speak of him as quite a college wonder. I'mashamed to say I don't know wherein his great successes lie; but theytell me that he has distanced every competitor of his day, and standsalone in his preeminence, and yet we saw him to-day not venturing on aremark, nor even hazarding an opinion on the topics we talked of, andsilent where he ought to have be
en heard with advantage."

  "Is he bashful?" said Jack, with a lazy drawl.

  "I don't think it's that; at least, not altogether."

  "Supercilious, perhaps?"

  "Oh! certainly not," replied she, hastily. "The company in which hefound himself is the best answer to that. He could not presume--"

  "It was, then, downright fear," broke in Massingbred; "the terrorthat even clever men cannot even shake off when thrown amongst a classthey're unused to."

  "And very naturally so. I'm sure he must be puzzled to imagine why he ishere. Indeed, we have only known him a few days back. It was one of Mr.Martin's sudden caprices to ask him to Cro' Martin. He fancied he oughtto conciliate--I believe that's the phrase in vogue--the borough people,and this young man's father is the chief of them." And now Lady Dorotheaturned from the topic as one unworthy of further thought, and enteredupon the more congenial theme of her own high relatives and connectionsin England. It was strange enough that Massing-bred's remote alliancewith her family was sufficient to induce an intimacy and familiaritywith him which years of mere acquaintanceship could not have effected.That his grand-aunt had been a Conway, and his great-grandfather'shalf-brother was married to a Jernyngham, were all a species offreemasonry by which he was admitted at once to the privilege ofconfidential discussion.

  It was no small mortification to Massingbred to spend his evening inthese genealogical researches; he had seen the two young girls move offinto an adjoining room, from which at times the sound of a piano, andof voices singing, issued, and was half mad with impatience to be alongwith them. However, it was a penalty must be exacted, and he thoughtthat the toll once paid he had secured himself against all demands forthe future.

  Not caring to participate in the many intricacies of those familydiscussions wherein the degrees of relationship of individuals seemto form the sole points of interest, we shall betake ourselves to thelittle blue drawing-room, where, seated at the piano together, thetwo young girls talked, while their fingers strayed along the notes asthough affording a species of involuntary accompaniment to their words.Nelligan, it is true, was present; but, unnoticed by either, he satapart in a distant corner, deep in his own brooding thoughts.

  Mary had only made Miss Henderson's acquaintance on that evening, butalready they were intimate. It was, indeed, no common boon for her toobtain companionship with one of her own age, and who, with the dreadedcharacteristics of a governess, was in reality a very charming andattractive person. Miss Henderson sang with all the cultivated knowledgeof a musician; and, while she spoke of foreign countries where she hadtravelled, lapsed at times into little snatches of melody, as itwere, illustrative of what she spoke. The delight Mary experiencedin listening was unbounded; and if at moments a sad sense of her ownneglected education shot through her mind, it was forgotten the nextinstant in her generous admiration.

  "And how are _you_, who have seen this bright and brilliant world youspeak of," said Mary, "to sit quietly down in this unbroken solitude,where all the interests are of the humblest and more ordinary kind?"

  "You forget that I saw all these things, as it were, on sufferance,"replied she. "I was not born to them, nor could ever hope for more thana passing glance at splendors wherein I was not to share. And as for thequiet monotony here, an evening such as this, companionship like yours,are just as much above my expectations."

  "Oh, no, no!" cried Mary, eagerly. "You were as surely destined for asalon as I was for the rude adventures of my own wayward life. You don'tknow what a strange existence it is."

  "I have heard, however!" said the other, calmly.

  "Tell me--do tell me--what you have been told of me, and don't be afraidof wounding my vanity; for, I pledge you my word, I do think of myselfwith almost all the humility that I ought."

  "I have heard you spoken of in the cabins of the poor as their onlyfriend, their comforter, and their hope; the laborer knows you as hissuccor,--one by whose kind intervention he earns his daily bread; theirchildren love you as their own chosen protector."

  "But it's not of these things I 'm speaking," said Mary, rapidly. "Dothey not call me self-willed, passionate, sometimes imperious?"

  "Yes; and capricious at times!" said the other, slowly.

  Mary colored, and her voice faltered as she said,--

  "There they were unjust. The impracticable tempers I have to dealwith--the untutored minds and undisciplined natures--often lead me intoseeming contradictions."

  "Like the present, perhaps," said Miss Henderson.

  "How! the present?" said Mary.

  "That, while claiming the merit of humility, you at once enter upon aself-defence."

  "Well, perhaps I _am_ capricious!" said Mary, smiling.

  "And haughty?" asked the other, slowly.

  "I believe so!" said Mary, with a degree of dignity that seemed todisplay the sentiment while confessing to it.

  "I have never heard a heavier accusation against Miss Martin thanthese," said she, "and I have lived with those who rarely scruple how tocriticise their betters."

  Mary was silent and thoughtful; she knew not how to interpret themingled praise and censure she had just listened to.

  "But tell me rather of yourself," said Mary, as though willing to turnthe topic of conversation. "I should like to hear your story."

  "At thirteen years of age--I believe even a year later--I was theplayfellow of the young gentleman you see yonder," said Kate Henderson,"but who, to-night, seems incapable of remembering anything or anybody."

  "Of Mr. Nelligan?" repeated Mary. And Joseph started as he heard hisname, looked up, and again relapsed into revery.

  "I 'm not sure that we were not in love. I almost confess that Iwas, when my father sent me away to France to be educated. I was verysad--very, very sad--at being taken away from home and thrown amongststrangers, with none of whom I could even interchange a word; and I usedto sit and cry for hours by myself, and write sorrowful love-lettersto 'dearest Joseph,' and then imagine the answers to them; sometimes Iactually wrote them, and would suffer agonies of anguish before I daredto break the seal and learn the contents. Meanwhile I was acquiring aknowledge of French, and knew a little of music, and used to sing in ourchoir at chapel, and learned to believe the world was somewhat largerthan I had hitherto thought it, and that St. Gudule was finer thanthe mean little church at Oughterard; and worse still--for it _was_worse--that the sous-lieutenants and cadets of the Military College hada much more dashing, daring look about them than 'poor Joseph;' for so Inow called him to myself, and gave up the correspondence soon after.

  "Remember, Miss Martin, that I was but a child at this time--at least, Iwas little more than fourteen--but in another year I was a woman, in allthe consciousness of certain attractions, clever enough to know thatI could read and detect the weak points in others, and weak enough tofancy that I could always take advantage of them. This incessant spiritof casuistry, this passion for investigating the temper of those aboutyou, and making a study of their natures for purposes of your own, isthe essence of a convent life; you have really little else to do,and your whole bent is to ascertain why Sister Agnes blushes, or whyBeatrice fainted twice at the Angelus. The minute anatomy of emotionsis a very dangerous topic. At this very moment I cannot free myself fromthe old habit; and as I see young Mr. Nelligan there sitting with hishead in his hand, so deep in thought as not to notice us, I begin toexamine why is it he is thus, and on what is he now brooding?"

  "And can you guess?" asked Mary, half eagerly.

  "I could be certain, if I were but to ask him a question or two."

  "Pray do then, if only to convince me of your skill."

  "But I must be alone, and that is scarcely possible,--scarcelybecoming."

  "Let us contrive some way,--think of something."

  "It is too late now; he is about to leave the room," said Kate,cautiously. "How pale he looks, and how anxious his eye has become!I thought at first there was some constraint at meeting _me_ here; hefeared, perhaps--but no,
that would be unworthy of him."

  She ceased, for Nelligan had now drawn nigh to where they sat, and stoodas if trying to collect himself to say something.

  "Do you sing, Mr. Nelligan?" asked Kate.

  "No; I am ignorant of music," said he, half abstractedly.

  "But you like it?" asked Mary.

  "Yes, I believe I do,--that is, it calms and quiets me. If I couldunderstand it, it would do more."

  "Then why not understand it, since that is the way you phrase it?" askedKate. "Everybody can be a musician to a certain degree of proficiency.There is no more ear required than you want to learn a language."

  "Then you shall teach me," cried Mary, eagerly.

  Kate took up her hand and pressed it to her lips for a reply.

  "Foreigners--men, I mean--are all so well aware of this that theycultivate music as a necessary part of education; few attain higheminence, but all know something of it. But somehow we have got tobelieve that cultivation in England must always tend to material profit.We learn this, that, and t' other, to be richer or greater or higher,but never to be more acceptable in society, more agreeable or pleasantercompany."

  "We have n't time," said Nelligan, gravely.

  "For what have we not time? Do you mean we have no time to be happy?"cried Repton, suddenly stepping in amongst them. "Now, my dear youngladies, which of you will bid highest for the heart of an old lawyer--bya song?"

  "It must be Miss Henderson," said Mary, smiling, "for I don't sing."

  "Not a ballad?--not even one of the Melodies?"

  "Not even one of the Melodies," said she, sorrowfully.

  "Shame upon me for that 'even,'" said Repton; "but you see what comesof surviving one's generation. I lived in an age when the 'Last Rose ofSummer' and the 'Harp that Once' were classical as Homer's 'Hymns,' butI have now fallen upon times when English music is estimated in thesame category with English cookery, and both deemed very little abovebarbarous. To be sure," added he, "it does seem very like a poeticaljustice for the slavish adherence of _our_ education to Greek and Romanliterature, that our ladies should only sing to us in the languages ofItaly or Germany."

  "I hope you would not imply that we are as little versed in these asgreat scholars are in the others?" said Kate Henderson, slyly.

  "Sharply said, miss, and truthfully insinuated too! Not to mention thatthere is courage in such a speech before Mr. Nelligan, here."

  "Yes--very true--a just remark!" said Joseph, who only overheard areference to himself without understanding to what it alluded. And nowa very joyous burst of laughter from the others startled him, while itcovered him with confusion.

  "We must make them sing, Nelligan," said Repton, gayly. "They'llvanquish us in these tilting-matches of word-fence.--Now, MissHenderson, something very plaintive and very sentimental, to suit thetenderness of a feeling heart."

  "I'll sing for you with pleasure," said Kate. "Will this suit you?" Andwith a short prelude she sang one of those brilliant little snatchesof Venetian melody which seem like the outburst of a suddeninspiration,--wild, joyous, floating as they are,--wherein such is theexpression that sounds usurp the place of language, and the mind iscarried away by a dreamy fascination impossible to resist.

  "How often have I heard that on the Lido!" said Mas-singbred, enteringthe room hastily; "and what a glorious thing it is!"

  "Then you know this?" said Kate, running her fingers over the notes, andwarbling out another of the popular airs of the same class.

  "The last time I heard that," said Jack, musingly, "was one night whenreturning home from a late party, along the Grand Canal at Venice. Thereis a single word at the end of each verse which should be uttered by asecond voice. Just as I passed beneath a brilliantly lighted salon, thesounds of this melody came floating forth, and as the stanza finished, Isupplied the 'refrain.'"

  "You?" cried Kate, eagerly.

  "Yes; but why do you ask?"

  "Do you remember the exact spot?" said she, not heeding his question.

  "As well as though I were there only yesterday."

  "Shall I tell you where it was?" He waited, and she went on: "It wasunder the balcony of the Mocenigo Palace."

  "Why, this is witchcraft," cried Jack; "you are perfectly correct."

  "The bouquet that was thrown to you from the window fell into thewater."

  "But I regained it. I have it still," cried he, more eagerly; "and yourswas the hand that threw it?"

  She nodded assent.

  "How strange, is it not, that we should meet here?" He paused for aminute or two, and then said, "It was the Duchesse de Courcelles livedthere at the time?"

  "Yes, we passed the winter in that palace."

  "Miss Henderson was the companion of the young Princess," said LadyDorothea, who had just joined the group, and experienced no slight shockat observing the tone of easy familiarity in which the conversationwas conducted. But Massingbred seemed wonderfully little moved by theintelligence, for, drawing his chair closer to Kate's, he led herto talk of Venice and its life, till, imperceptibly as it were, thediscourse glided into Italian. What a dangerous freemasonry is the useof a foreign language, lifting the speakers out of the ordinarytopics, and leading them away to distant scenes and impressions, which,constituting a little world apart, give a degree of confidential feelingto intercourse. Massingbred would willingly have lent himself to thefull enjoyment of this illusion; but Kate, with quicker tact, saw allthe difficulties and embarrassment it would occasion, and under pretextof searching for some music, escaped at once from the spot.

  "How I envy you, dear girl!" said Mary, following her, and passing herarm affectionately around her. "What a happiness must it be to possesssuch gifts as yours, which, even in their careless exercise, are sograceful. Tell me frankly, is it too late for me to try--"

  "You overrate _me_ as much as you disparage yourself," said Kate,mildly; "but if you really will accept me, I will teach you the littlethat I know, but, in return, will you make _me_ your friend?"

  Mary pressed the other's hand warmly within her own.

  "Here are some vows of everlasting friendship going forward, I 'll besworn," said old Repton, stepping in between them; "and you ought tohave a legal opinion as to the clauses,--eh, young ladies, am I notright?"

  "When was Mr. Repton wrong?" said Mary, laughing.

  "When he waited till his present age to fall in love!" said he, gayly."But, seriously, what have you done with our young student? Of all thewoe-begone faces I ever beheld, his was the very saddest, as he movedinto the large drawing-room awhile ago. Which of you is to blame forthis?"

  "Not guilty, upon my honor," said Mary, with mock solemnity.

  "I'm half afraid that our showy friend has eclipsed him in _your_ eyes,as I own to you he has in _mine_, clever fellow that he is."

  "Are you not charmed with yourself that you did not shoot him thismorning?" said Mary, laughing.

  "I am sincerely gratified that he has not shot me, which, taking hispistol performance on the same level with his other acquirements, wasnot so very improbable!"

  "There's your uncle stealing away to bed," said Repton, "and fancyingthat nobody remarks him. Shall I be cruel enough to mar the project?Martin--Martin--come here for a moment; we want your opinion on a knottypoint."

  "I know what it is," said Martin, smiling; "the question underdiscussion is,'Whether you or Mr. Massingbred were the more successfulto-day?'"

  "I think Mr. Massingbred may claim the prize," said Mary Martin, with asly whisper; "he made Lady Dorothea cry."

  "Ay," said Repton, "but _I_ made young Nelligan laugh!"

  And now the party broke up, Massingbred lingering a little behind to saysomething to Miss Henderson, and then betaking himself to his chamber,well satisfied with his day, and the change it had wrought in hisfortunes. Perhaps a few passages from a letter that he, on that samenight, penned to one of his friends in Dublin, will not be ill-timed asan exponent of his sentiments. The letter was written, directingcertain articles
of dress to be forwarded to him at once, by coach, andcontained these paragraphs:--

  "You now know how I came here: the next thing is to tell you of theplace itself. The house is large and admirably _montee_--abundance ofservants, well drilled, and orderly. The master a nonentity, apparently;easy-tempered and good-humored; liking the quiet monotony of his humdrumlife, and only asking that it may not be interfered with. His wife,a fine lady of the school of five-and-forty years ago,--a nervousterrorist about mob encroachments and the democratic tendencies of thetimes,--insufferably tiresome on genealogies and 'connections,' andwhat many would call downright vulgar in the amount of her pretension.Gratitude--for I have the honor of being a favorite already--seals mylips against any further or harsher criticism. As for the niece, she isdecidedly handsome; a great deal of style about her too; with a degreeof--shall I call it daring? for it is more like courage than any otherquality--that tells you she is the uncontrolled ruler over the wildregions and wild people around her. With more of manner, she would bevery charming; but perhaps she is better in the unfettered freedom ofher own capricious independence: it certainly suits her to perfection.And now I should have completed my catalogue, if it were not forthe governess. Ay, Harry, the governess! And just fancy, under thisunimposing title, a dark-eyed, haughty-looking girl--I don't think shecan be above twenty or twenty-one--with a carriage and port that mightsuit an Archduchess of Austria. She has travelled all over Europe--beeneverywhere--seen everything, and, stranger again, everybody; for she waswhat they style a companion. By Jove! she must have been a very charmingone; that is, if she liked it; for if she did not, Hal!--At all events,here she is; only having arrived the very day before myself; so that weare free to discuss the family, and compare notes together, in the mostconfidential fashion.

  "Of course I need n't tell _you_ Jack Massingbred does not fall inlove,--the very phrase implies it must be beneath one,--but I alreadysee that if such a girl were a Lady Catherine or a Lady Agnes, with afather in the Upper House, and two brothers in the 'Lower,' her dowryanything you like above thirty thousand,--that, in short, even Jackhimself might exhibit the weakness of inferior mortals; for she isprecisely one of those types that are ever looking upward,--a girlwith a high ambition, I 'll be sworn, and formed to make the man, whosefortunes she shared, stand forward in the van and distinguish himself.

  "These are our whole _dramatis persono_, if I include an old barrister,with a racy humor and a strong stock of Bar anecdotes; and youngNelligan, the Medal man, whom you quizzed me so much for noticing inDublin. You were right then, Harry; he _is_ a low fellow, and I waswrong in ever thinking him otherwise. I chanced upon his father'sacquaintance rather oddly; and the son has not forgiven it. When we methere, yesterday, he fancied that we were to speak, and was actuallyrushing forward to shake hands with the most enthusiastic warmth; butwith that manner which you have often admired, and once encouraged, whenyou called me the 'Cool of the day,' I pulled him up dead short, stared,and passed on. At dinner, I managed to ignore him so utterly thateverybody else fell into the trap, and he dined as a tutor or thechaplain or the agent's son might,--mingling his sighs with the soup,and sipping his claret in all dreariness.

  "You will see, even from these hasty lines, that there is enough hereto interest and amuse; food for observation, and opportunity for malice.What can a man want more? The 'joint and the pickles.' They haveasked me to stay,--they have even entreated; and so I mean to pass aweek--perhaps two--here. I conclude that will give me enough of it:however, you shall hear frequently of my _res gesto_, and learn all thatbefalls

  "Jack Massingbred.

  "... When you pass that way, pray see what letters there may be lyingfor me in my chambers. If any of my father's--he writes in a largesplashy hand--and the seal, two maces, saltierwise--forward them here. Iam, or I shall soon be, in want of money; and as I have overdrawn myallowance already, I shall be obliged to issue bonds, bearing a certaininterest. Can you recommend me to a safe capitalist?--not Fordyce--norHenniker--nor yet Sloan--with all of whom I have held dealings, mutuallydisagreeable. It is a sad reflection that the stamp worth five shillingsupon a piece of unsullied paper is absolutely valueless when the words'Jack Massingbred' are inscribed beneath. Try, and if you can, solvethis curious problem.

  "At all events, write to me here: supply me freely with news, for Iam supposed to be acquainted with all that goes on, socially andpolitically, and I shall be driven to imagination if you do not store mewith fact."