ruth. They always fancied it was in action he was
killed.

As for my lord earl, whose noble son has been the intendant of an
illustrious Prince, and who has enriched himself at play with his R---l
master: I went to see his lordship when I heard of this astounding
design against our property, and remonstrated with him on the matter.
For myself, as I showed him, I was not concerned, as I had determined
to cede my right to my brother. He received me with perfect courtesy;
smiled when I spoke of my disinterestedness; said he was sure of my
affectionate feelings towards my brother, but what must be his towards
his son? He had always heard from his father: he would take his Bible
oath of that: that, at my mother's death, the property would return to
the head of the family. At the story of the title which Colonel Esmond
had ceded, he shrugged his shoulders, and treated it as a fable. "On
ne fait pas de ces folies la!" says he, offering me snuff, "and your
grandfather was a man of esprit! My little grandmother was eprise of
him: and my father, the most good-natured soul alive, lent them the
Virginian property to get them out of the way! C'etoit un scandale, mon
cher, un joli petit scandale!" Oh, if my mother had but heard him! I
might have been disposed to take a high tone: but he said, with the
utmost good-nature, "My dear Knight, are you going to fight about the
character of our grandmother? Allons donc! Come, I will be fair with
you! We will compromise, if you like, about this Virginian property!"
and his lordship named a sum greater than the actual value of the
estate.

Amazed at the coolness of this worthy, I walked away to my coffee-house,
where, as it happened, an old friend was to dine with me, for whom I
have a sincere regard. I had felt a pang at not being able to give this
gentleman my living of Warrington--on-Waveney, but I could not, as he
himself confessed honestly. His life had been too loose, and his example
in my village could never have been edifying: besides, he would have
died of ennui there, after being accustomed to a town life; and he had
a prospect finally, he told me, of settling himself most comfortably in
London and the church. [He was the second Incumbent of Lady Whittlesea's
Chapel, Mayfair, and married Elizabeth, relict of Hermann Voelcker,
Esq., the eminent brewer.] My guest, I need not say, was my old friend
Sampson, who never failed to dine with me when I came to town, and I
told him of my int