conceal my agony, I wear a merry smile; I
say, "What! come to take pot-luck with us, Brown my boy! Betsy! put a
knife and fork for Mr. Brown. Eat! Welcome! Fall to! It's my best!" I
say that humbug which I am performing is beautiful self-denial--that
hypocrisy is true virtue. Oh, if every man spoke his mind what an
intolerable society ours would be to live in!

As the young gentlemen are announced, Lady Castlewood advances towards
them with perfect ease and good-humour. "We have heard, Harry," she
says, looking at the latter with a special friendliness, "of this most
extraordinary circumstance. My Lord Castlewood said at breakfast that he
should wait on you this very day, Mr. Warrington, and, cousin Harry, we
intend not to love you any the less because you are poor."

"We shall be able to show now that it is not for your acres that we like
you, Harry!" says Lady Fanny, following her mamma's lead.

"And I to whom the acres have fallen?" says Mr. George, with a smile and
a bow.

"Oh, cousin, we shall like you for being like Harry!" replies the arch
Lady Fanny.

Ah! who that has seen the world, has not admired that astonishing ease
with which fine ladies drop you and pick you up again? Both the ladies
now addressed themselves almost exclusively to the younger brother. They
were quite civil to Mr. George: but with Mr. Harry they were fond, they
were softly familiar, they were gently kind, they were affectionately
reproachful. Why had Harry not been for days and days to see them?

"Better to have had a dish of tea and a game at piquet with them than
with some other folks," says Lady Castlewood. "If we had won enough
to buy a paper of pins from you we should have been content; but young
gentlemen don't know what is for their own good," says mamma.

"Now you have no more money to play with, you can come and play with
us, cousin!" cries fond Lady Fanny, lifting up a finger, "and so your
misfortune will be good fortune to us."

George was puzzled. This welcome of his brother was very different from
that to which he had looked. All these compliments and attentions paid
to the younger brother, though he was without a guinea! Perhaps the
people were not so bad as they were painted? The Blackest of all Blacks
is said not to be of quite so dark a complexion as some folks describe
him.

This affectionate conversation continued for some twenty minutes, at the
end of which period my Lord Castlewood made his appearance, wig on