ly paid court to his patron, called him by that name to other
folks, went on his errands for him,--any sort of errands which the
patron might devise,--called him sir in speaking to him, stood up in
his presence until bidden to sit down, and flattered him ex officio. Mr.
Sampson did not take the least shame in speaking of Harry as his young
patron,--as a young Virginian nobleman recommended to him by his other
noble patron, the Earl of Castlewood. He was proud of appearing at
Harry's side, and as his humble retainer, in public talked about him to
the company, gave orders to Harry's tradesmen, from whom, let us hope,
he received a percentage in return for his recommendations, performed
all the functions of aide-de-camp--others, if our young gentleman
demanded them from the obsequious divine, who had gaily discharged the
duties of ami du prince to ever so many young men of fashion, since
his own entrance into the world. It must be confessed that, since his
arrival in Europe, Mr. Warrington had not been uniformly lucky in the
friendships which he had made.

"What a reputation, sir, they have made for you in this place!" cries
Mr. Sampson, coming back from the coffee-house to his patron. "Monsieur
de Richelieu was nothing to you!"

"How do you mean, Monsieur de Richelieu?--Never was at Minorca in my
life," says downright Harry, who had not heard of those victories at
home, which made the French duke famous.

Mr. Sampson explained. The pretty widow Patcham who had just arrived
was certainly desperate about Mr. Warrington: her way of going on at
the rooms, the night before, proved that. As for Mrs. Hooper, that was a
known case, and the Alderman had fetched his wife back to London for no
other reason. It was the talk of the whole Wells.

"Who says so?" cries out Harry, indignantly. "I should like to meet the
man who dares say so, and confound the villain!"

"I should not like to show him to you," says Mr. Sampson, laughing. "It
might be the worse for him."

"It's a shame to speak with such levity about the character of ladies or
of gentlemen either," continues Mr. Warrington, pacing up and down the
room in a fume.

"So I told them," says the chaplain, wagging his head and looking very
much moved and very grave, though, if the truth were known, it had never
come into his mind at all to be angry at hearing charges of this nature
against Harry.

"It's a shame, I say, to talk away the reputation of any man or woman as
pe