ravagance.

"Why," says Mr. Morris, in a rather flippant manner, "you must have won
more than you have lost, Mr. Warrington, after all is said and done."

"And of course I don't know my own business as well as you do, Mr.
Morris," says Harry sternly, who had not forgotten the other's behaviour
on hearing of his arrest; "but I have another reason. A few months
or days ago, I was heir to a great estate, and could afford to lose
a little money. Now, thank God, I am heir to nothing." And he looked
round, blushing not a little, to the knot of gentlemen, his gaming
associates, who were lounging at the tables or gathered round the fire.

"How do you mean, Mr. Warrington?" cries my Lord March, "Have you lost
Virginia, too? Who has won it? I always had a fancy to play you myself
for that stake."

"And grow an improved breed of slaves in the colony," says another.

"The right owner has won it. You have heard me tell of my twin elder
brother?"

"Who was killed in that affair of Braddock's two years ago! Yes.
Gracious goodness, my dear sir, I hope in heaven he has not come to life
again?"

"He arrived in London two days since. He has been a prisoner in a French
fort for eighteen months; he only escaped a few months ago, and left our
house in Virginia very soon after his release."

"You haven't had time to order mourning, I suppose, Mr. Warrington?"
asks Mr. Selwyn very good-naturedly, and simple Harry hardly knew the
meaning of his joke until his brother interpreted it to him.

"Hang me, if I don't believe the fellow is absolutely glad of the
reappearance of his confounded brother!" cries my Lord March, as they
continued to talk of the matter when the young Virginian had taken his
leave.

"These savages practise the simple virtues of affection--they are barely
civilised in America yet," yawns Selwyn.

"They love their kindred, and they scalp their enemies," simpers Mr.
Walpole. "It's not Christian, but natural. Shouldn't you like to be
present at a scalping-match, George, and see a fellow skinned alive?"

"A man's elder brother is his natural enemy," says Mr. Selwyn, placidly
ranging his money and counters before him.

"Torture is like broiled bones and pepper. You wouldn't relish simple
hanging afterwards, George!" continues Horry.

"I'm hanged if there's any man in England who would like to see his
elder brother alive," says my lord.

"No, nor his father either, my lord!" cries Jack Morris.

"First time I ever