and drinking too much,--those are
her ladyship's little failings. Mr. Harry Warrington has gone to play
a match at billiards with Count Caramboli: I suspect idleness is his
failing. That is what Mr. Chaplain Sampson remarks to Lady Maria, as
they are talking together in a low tone, so as not to interrupt Aunt
Bernstein's doze in the neighbouring room.

"A gentleman of Mr. Warrington's means can afford to be idle," says Lady
Maria. "Why, sure you love cards and billiards yourself, my good Mr.
Sampson?"

"I don't say, madam, my practice is good, only my doctrine is sound,"
says Mr. Chaplain with a sigh. "This young gentleman should have some
employment. He should appear at court, and enter the service of his
country, as befits a man of his station. He should settle down, and
choose a woman of a suitable rank as his wife." Sampson looks in her
ladyship's face as he speaks.

"Indeed, my cousin is wasting his time," says Lady Maria, blushing
slightly.

"Mr. Warrington might see his relatives of his father's family,"
suggests Mr. Chaplain.

"Suffolk country boobies drinking beer and hallooing after foxes! I
don't see anything to be gained by his frequenting them, Mr. Sampson!"

"They are of an ancient family, of which the chief has been knight of
the shire these hundred years," says the chaplain. "I have heard Sir
Miles hath a daughter of Mr. Harry's age--and beauty, too."

"I know nothing, sir, about Sir Miles Warrington, and his daughters, and
his beauties!" cries Maria, in a fluster.

"The Baroness stirred--no--her ladyship is in a sweet sleep," says the
chaplain, in a very soft voice. "I fear, madam, for your ladyship's
cousin, Mr. Warrington. I fear for his youth; for designing persons who
may get about him; for extravagances, follies, intrigues even into which
he will be led, and into which everybody will try to tempt him. His
lordship, my kind patron, bade me to come and watch over him, and I am
here accordingly, as your ladyship knoweth. I know the follies of young
men. Perhaps I have practised them myself. I own it with a blush," adds
Mr. Sampson with much unction--not, however, bringing the promised blush
forward to corroborate the asserted repentance.

"Between ourselves, I fear Mr. Warrington is in some trouble now,
madam," continues the chaplain, steadily looking at Lady Maria.

"What, again?" shrieks the lady.

"Hush! Your ladyship's dear invalid!" whispers the chaplain again
pointing towards Mada