been amongst the swine sure enough. And
evil companions have robbed the money out of thy pocket and the coat off
thy back.

"He came to his family in England, madam," says George, with some heat,
"and his friends were your ladyship's."

"He could not have come to worse advisers, nephew Warrington, and so I
should have told my sister earlier, had she condescended to write to me
by him, as she has done by you," said the old lady, tossing up her head.
"Hey! hey!" she said, at night, as she arranged herself for the rout to
which she was going, to her waiting-maid: "this young gentleman's mother
is half sorry that he has come to life again, I could see that in his
face. She is half sorry, and I am perfectly furious! Why didn't he
lie still when he dropped there under the tree, and why did that young
Florac carry him to the fort? I knew those Floracs when I was at Paris,
in the time of Monsieur le Regent. They were of the Floracs of Ivry. No
great house before Henri IV. His ancestor was the king's favourite.
His ancestor--he! he!--his ancestress! Brett! entendez-vous? Give me my
card-purse. I don't like the grand airs of this Monsieur George; and yet
he resembles, very much, his grandfather--the same look and sometimes
the same tones. You have heard of Colonel Esmond when I was young? This
boy has his eyes. I suppose I liked the Colonel's because he loved me."

Being engaged, then, to a card-party,--an amusement which she never
missed, week-day or Sabbath, as long as she had strength to hold trumps
or sit in a chair,--very soon after George had ended his narration the
old lady dismissed her two nephews, giving to the elder a couple of
fingers and a very stately curtsey; but to Harry two hands and a kindly
pat on the cheek.

"My poor child, now thou art disinherited, thou wilt see how differently
the world will use thee!" she said. "There is only, in all London, a
wicked, heartless old woman who will treat thee as before. Here is a
pocket-book for you, child! Do not lose it at Ranelagh to-night. That
suit of yours does not become your brother half so well as it sat upon
you! You will present your brother to everybody, and walk up and down
the room for two hours at least, child. Were I you, I would then go to
the Chocolate-House, and play as if nothing had happened. Whilst you are
there, your brother may come back to me and eat a bit of chicken
with me. My Lady Flint gives wretched suppers, and I want to talk his
mother's