e lad blushed: the ladies
smiled.

"'Tis Maria, above," said Lady Castlewood. "Let some of us go up to
her."

The ladies rose, and made way towards the door; and Harry followed
them, blushing very much. George was about to join the party, but Lord
Castlewood checked him. "Nay, if all the ladies follow your brother"
his lordship said, "let me at least have the benefit of your company and
conversation. I long to hear the account of your captivity and rescue,
cousin George!"

"Oh, we must hear that too!" cried one of the ladies, lingering.

"I am greedy, and should like it all by myself," said Lord Castlewood,
looking at her very sternly; and followed the women to the door, and
closed it upon them with a low bow.

"Your brother has no doubt acquainted you with the history of all
that has happened to him in this house, cousin George?" asked George's
kinsman.

"Yes, including the quarrel with Mr. Will and the engagement to my Lady
Maria," replies George, with a bow. "I may be pardoned for saying that
he hath met with but ill fortune here, my lord."

"Which no one can deplore more cordially than myself. My brother lives
with horse jockeys and trainers, and the wildest bloods of the town,
and between us there is very little sympathy. We should not all live
together, were we not so poor. This is the house which our grandmother
occupied before she went to America and married Colonel Esmond. Much
of the furniture belonged to her." George looked round the wainscoted
parlour with some interest. "Our house has not flourished in the last
twenty years; though we had a promotion of rank a score of years since,
owing to some interest we had at court, then. But the malady of play has
been the ruin of us all. I am a miserable victim to it: only too
proud to sell myself and title to a roturiere, as many noblemen, less
scrupulous, have done. Pride is my fault, my dear cousin. I remember how
I was born!" And his lordship laid his hand on his shirt-frill, turned
out his toe, and looked his cousin nobly in the face.

Young George Warrington's natural disposition was to believe everything
which everybody said to him. When once deceived, however, or undeceived
about the character of a person, he became utterly incredulous, and
he saluted this fine speech of my lord's with a sardonical, inward
laughter, preserving his gravity, however, and scarce allowing any of
his scorn to appear in his words.

"We have all our faults, my lord. That