he
Colonel; "never be ashamed of your father, Clive."

"_Ashamed of my father_!" says Clive, looking up to him, and walking on
as proud as a peacock. "I say," the lad resumed, after a pause--

"Say what you say," said the father.

"Is that all true what's in the Peerage--in the Baronetage, about Uncle
Newcome and Newcome; about the Newcome who was burned at Smithfield;
about the one that was at the battle of Bosworth; and the old, old
Newcome who was bar--that is, who was surgeon to Edward the Confessor,
and was killed at Hastings? I am afraid it isn't; and yet I should like
it to be true."

"I think every man would like to come of an ancient and honourable race,"
said the Colonel in his honest way. "As you like your father to be an
honourable man, why not your grandfather, and his ancestors before him?
But if we can't inherit a good name, at least we can do our best to leave
one, my boy; and that is an ambition which, please God., you and I will
both hold by."

With this simple talk the old and young gentleman beguiled their way,
until they came into the western quarter of the town, where Hobson
Newcome lived in a handsome and roomy mansion. Colonel Newcome was bent
on paying a visit to his sister-in-law, although as they waited to be let
in they could not but remark through the opened windows of the
dining-room that a great table was laid and every preparation was made
for a feast.

"My brother said he was engaged to dinner to-day," said the Colonel.

"Does Mrs. Newcome give parties when he is away?"

"She invites all the company," answered Clive. "My uncle never asks any
one without aunt's leave."

The Colonel's countenance fell. "He has a great dinner, and does not ask
his own brother!" Newcome thought. "Why, if he had come to India with all
his family, he might have stayed for a year, and I should have been
offended had he gone elsewhere."

A hot menial in a red waistcoat came and opened the door, and without
waiting for preparatory queries said, "Not at home."

"It's my father, John," said Clive. "My aunt will see Colonel Newcome."

"Missis is not at home," said the man. "Missis is gone in carriage--Not
at this door!--Take them things down the area steps, young man!"

This latter speech was addressed to a pastry cook's boy with a large
sugar temple and many conical papers containing delicacies for
dessert. "Mind the hice is here in time; or there'll be a blow-up with
your governor,"--and John strug