hat I was called on
now to decide upon my future: she had a presentiment that evil would
come to me of my unchecked, headstrong will, which she dignified by
terming it a true but reckless affection: she believed she had been
thrown in my path to prove herself a serviceable friend, a Peribanou of
twenty-six who would not expect me to marry her when she had earned my
gratitude.

They set Temple on me, and that was very funny. To hear him with his
'I say, Richie, come, perhaps it's as well to know where a thing should
stop; your father knows you're at Riversley, and he'll be after you
when convenient; and just fancy the squire!' was laughable. He had some
anxiety to be home again, or at least at Riversley. I offered him to
Miss Goodwin.

She reproached me and coaxed me; she was exceedingly sweet. 'Well,' she
said, in an odd, resigned fashion, 'rest a day with us; will you refuse
me that?'

I consented; she knew not with what fretfulness. We went out to gaze at
the shops and edifices, and I bought two light bags for slinging over
the shoulder, two nightshirts, toothbrushes, and pocket-combs, and a
large map of Germany. By dint of vehement entreaties I led her to point
to the territory of the Prince of Eppenwelzen-Sarkeld. 'His income is
rather less than that of your grandfather, friend Harry,' she remarked.
I doated on the spot until I could have dropped my finger on it
blindfold.

Two or three pitched battles brought us to a friendly arrangement.
The colonel exacted my promise that if I saw my father at Sarkeld in
Eppenwelzen I would not stay with him longer than seven days: and that
if he was not there I would journey home forthwith. When I had yielded
the promise frankly on my honour, he introduced me to a banker of the
city, who agreed to furnish me money to carry me on to England in case I
should require it. A diligence engaged to deliver me within a few miles
of Sarkeld. I wrote a letter to my aunt Dorothy, telling her facts, and
one to the squire, beginning, 'We were caught on our arrival in London
by the thickest fog ever remembered,' as if it had been settled on my
departure from Riversley that Temple and I were bound for London. Miss
Goodwin was my post-bag. She said when we had dined, about two hours
before the starting of the diligence, 'Don't you think you ought to go
and wish that captain of the vessel you sailed in goodbye?' I fell
into her plot so far as to walk down to the quays on the river-side and