oo, especially when wet weather
keeps him within doors. I wish he had something to do, some useful
trade, or profession, or employment--anything to occupy his head or his
hands for a few hours a day, and give him something besides his own
pleasure to think about. If he would play the country gentleman and
attend to the farm--but that he knows nothing about, and won't give his
mind to consider,--or if he would take up with some literary study, or
learn to draw or to play--as he is so fond of music, I often try to
persuade him to learn the piano, but he is far too idle for such an
undertaking: he has no more idea of exerting himself to overcome
obstacles than he has of restraining his natural appetites; and these two
things are the ruin of him. I lay them both to the charge of his harsh
yet careless father, and his madly indulgent mother.--If ever I am a
mother I will zealously strive against this crime of over-indulgence. I
can hardly give it a milder name when I think of the evils it brings.

Happily, it will soon be the shooting season, and then, if the weather
permit, he will find occupation enough in the pursuit and destruction of
the partridges and pheasants: we have no grouse, or he might have been
similarly occupied at this moment, instead of lying under the acacia-tree
pulling poor Dash's ears. But he says it is dull work shooting alone; he
must have a friend or two to help him.

'Let them be tolerably decent then, Arthur,' said I. The word 'friend'
in his mouth makes me shudder: I know it was some of his 'friends' that
induced him to stay behind me in London, and kept him away so long:
indeed, from what he has unguardedly told me, or hinted from time to
time, I cannot doubt that he frequently showed them my letters, to let
them see how fondly his wife watched over his interests, and how keenly
she regretted his absence; and that they induced him to remain week after
week, and to plunge into all manner of excesses, to avoid being laughed
at for a wife-ridden fool, and, perhaps, to show how far he could venture
to go without danger of shaking the fond creature's devoted attachment.
It is a hateful idea, but I cannot believe it is a false one.

'Well,' replied he, 'I thought of Lord Lowborough for one; but there is
no possibility of getting him without his better half, our mutual friend,
Annabella; so we must ask them both. You're not afraid of her, are you,
Helen?' he asked, with a mischievous twinkle in h