ul friends round about 'em--and to reward 'em
too. The wine's with you, Chaplain. What toast do you call, sir?"

"I call a blessing on the house of Esmond-Warrington!" cries the
chaplain, with real tears in his eyes.

"We are the elder branch, sir. My grandfather was the Marquis of
Esmond," says Mr. Harry, in a voice noble but somewhat indistinct.
"Here's to you, Chaplain--and I forgive you, sir--and God bless you,
sir--and if you had been took for three times as much, I'd have paid
it. Why, what's that I see through the shutters? I am blest if the sun
hasn't risen again! We have no need of candles to go to bed, ha, ha!"
And once more extending his blessing to his chaplain, the young fellow
went off to sleep.

About noon Madame de Bernstein sent over a servant to say that she would
be glad if her nephew would come over and drink a dish of chocolate with
her, whereupon our young friend rose and walked to his aunt's lodgings.
She remarked, not without pleasure, some alteration in his toilette: in
his brief sojourn in London he had visited a tailor or two, and had
been introduced by my Lord March to some of his lordship's purveyors and
tradesmen.

Aunt Bernstein called him "my dearest child," and thanked him for his
noble, his generous behaviour to dear Maria. What a shock that seizure
in church had been to her! A still greater shock that she had lost three
hundred only on the Wednesday night to Lady Yarmouth, and was quite a
sec. "Why," said the Baroness, "I had to send Case to London to my agent
to get me money to pay--I could not leave Tunbridge in her debt."

"So Case did go to London?" says Mr. Harry.

"Of course he did: the Baroness de Bernstein can't afford to say she is
court d'argent. Canst thou lend me some, child?"

"I can give your ladyship twenty-two pounds," said Harry, blushing very
red: "I have but forty-four left till I get my Virginian remittances. I
have bought horses and clothes, and been very extravagant, aunt."

"And rescued your poor relations in distress, you prodigal good boy.
No, child, I do not want thy money. I can give thee some. Here is a note
upon my agent for fifty pounds, vaurien! Go and spend it, and be merry!
I dare say thy mother will repay me, though she does not love me." And
she looked quite affectionate, and held out a pretty hand, which the
youth kissed.

"Your mother did not love me, but your mother's father did once. Mind,
sir, you always come to me when you have need of