ight improve him. Nay, do not thank me; I claim no credit; I did
but my duty--a humble woman's duty--for what are this world's goods,
nephew, compared to the welfare of a soul? If I did good, I am thankful;
if I was useful, I rejoice. If, through my means, you have been brought,
Harry, to consider----"

"Oh! the sermon, is it?" breaks in downright Harry. "I hadn't time to
read a single syllable of it, aunt--thank you. You see I don't care much
about that kind of thing--but thank you all the same."

"The intention is everything," says Mr. Warrington, "and we are both
grateful. Our dear friend, General Lambert, intended to give bail for
Harry; but, happily, I had funds of Harry's with me to meet any demands
upon us. But the kindness is the same, and I am grateful to the friend
who hastened to my brother's rescue when he had most need of aid, and
when his own relations happened--so unfortunately--to be out of town."

"Anything I could do, my dear boy, I'm sure--my brother's son--my own
nephew--ods bobs! you know--that is, anything--anything, you know!"
cries Sir Miles, bringing his own hand into George's with a generous
smack. "You can't stay and dine with us? Put off the Colonel--the
General--do, now! Or name a day. My Lady Warrington, make my nephew name
a day when he will sit under his grandfather's picture, and drink some
of his wine!"

"His intellectual faculties seem more developed than those of his
unlucky younger brother," remarked my lady, when the young gentlemen had
taken their leave. "The younger must be reckless and extravagant about
money indeed, for did you remark, Sir Miles, the loss of his
reversion in Virginia--the amount of which has, no doubt, been grossly
exaggerated, but, nevertheless, must be something considerable--did
you, I say, remark that the ruin of Harry's prospects scarcely seemed to
affect him?"

"I shouldn't be at all surprised that the elder turns out to be as poor
as the young one," says Dora, tossing her head.

"He! he! Did you see that cousin George had one of cousin Harry's suits
of clothes on--the brown and gold--that one he wore when he went with
you to the oratorio, Flora?"

"Did he take Flora to an oratorio?" asks Mr. Claypool, fiercely.

"I was ill and couldn't go, and my cousin went with her," says Dora.

"Far be it from me to object to any innocent amusement, much less to the
music of Mr. Handel, dear Mr. Claypool," says mamma. "Music refines the
soul, elevates the und