not
returned or his bet paid. The chronicler has not been able to find out,
from any of the papers which have come under his view, how that affair
of the bet was finally arranged; but 'tis certain the cousins presently
met in the houses of various friends, and without mauling each other.

Maria's elder brother had been at first quite willing that his sister,
who had remained unmarried for so many years, and on the train of whose
robe, in her long course over the path of life, so many briars, so much
mud, so many rents and stains had naturally gathered, should marry
with any bridegroom who presented himself, and if with a gentleman from
Virginia, so much the better. She would retire to his wigwam in the
forest, and there be disposed of. In the natural course of things, Harry
would survive his elderly bride, and might console himself or not, as he
preferred, after her departure.

But, after an interview with Aunt Bernstein, which his lordship had on
his coming to London, he changed his opinion: and even went so far as
to try and dissuade Maria from the match; and to profess a pity for the
young fellow who was made to undergo a life of misery on account of a
silly promise given at one-and-twenty!

Misery, indeed! Maria was at a loss to know why he was to be miserable.
Pity, forsooth! My lord at Castlewood had thought it was no pity at all.
Maria knew what pity meant. Her brother had been with Aunt Bernstein:
Aunt Bernstein had offered money to break this match off. She understood
what my lord meant, but Mr. Warrington was a man of honour, and she
could trust him. Away, upon this, walks my lord to White's, or to
whatever haunts he frequented. It is probable that his sister had
guessed too accurately what the nature of his conversation wit Madame
Bernstein had been.

"And so," thinks he, "the end of my virtue is likely to be that the
Mohock will fall a prey to others, and that there is no earthly use in
my sparing him. 'Quem deus vult'--what was that schoolmaster's adage? If
I don't have him, somebody else will, that is clear. My brother has had
a slice; my dear sister wants to swallow the whole of him bodily.
Here have I been at home respecting his youth and innocence forsooth,
declining to play beyond the value of a sixpence, and acting guardian
and Mentor to him. Why, I am but a fool to fatten a goose for other
people to feed off! Not many a good action have I done in this life,
and here is this one, that serves to be