nformed him, and the rest of the company indeed, that my Lord
Castlewood sent his affectionate remembrances to his cousin, and had
given special orders to him (Mr. Sampson) to come to Tunbridge Wells and
look after the young gentleman's morals; that my Lady Viscountess and my
Lady Fanny were gone to Harrogate for the waters; that Mr. Will had won
his money at Newmarket, and was going on a visit to my Lord Duke;
that Molly the housemaid was crying her eyes out about Gumbo, Mr.
Warrington's valet;--in fine, all the news of Castlewood and its
neighbourhood. Mr. Warrington was beloved by all the country round,
Mr. Sampson told the company, managing to introduce the names of some
persons of the very highest rank into his discourse. "All Hampshire had
heard of his successes at Tunbridge, successes of every kind," says
Mr. Sampson, looking particularly arch; my lord hoped, their ladyships
hoped, Harry would not be spoilt for his quiet Hampshire home.

The guests dropped off one by one, leaving the young Virginian to his
bottle of wine and the chaplain.

"Though I have had plenty," says the jolly chaplain, "that is no reason
why I should not have plenty more," and he drank toast after toast, and
bumper after bumper, to the amusement of Harry, who always enjoyed his
society.

By the time when Sampson had had his "plenty more," Harry, too, was
become specially generous, warm-hearted, and friendly. A lodging--why
should Mr. Sampson go to the expense of an inn, when there was a room
at Harry's quarters? The chaplain's trunk was ordered thither, Gumbo was
bidden to make Mr. Sampson comfortable--most comfortable; nothing would
satisfy Mr. Warrington but that Sampson should go down to his stables
and see his horses; he had several horses now; and when at the stable
Sampson recognised his own horse which Harry had won from him; and the
fond beast whinnied with pleasure, and rubbed his nose against his old
master's coat; Harry rapped out a brisk energetic expression or two, and
vowed by Jupiter that Sampson should have his old horse back again:
he would give him to Sampson, that he would; a gift which the chaplain
accepted by seizing Harry's hand, and blessing him,--by flinging his
arms round the horse's neck, and weeping for joy there, weeping tears
of Bordeaux and gratitude. Arm-in-arm the friends walked to Madame
Bernstein's from the stable, of which they brought the odours into her
ladyship's apartment. Their flushed cheeks and br