n name.

As much pleasure as the town could give in the winter season of 1756-57,
Mr. Warrington had for the asking. There were operas for him, in which
he took but moderate delight. (A prodigious deal of satire was brought
to bear against these Italian Operas, and they were assailed for being
foolish, Popish, unmanly, unmeaning; but people went, nevertheless.)
There were the theatres, with Mr. Garrick and Mrs. Pritchard at one
house, and Mrs. Clive at another. There were masquerades and ridottos
frequented by all the fine society; there were their lordships' and
ladyships' own private drums and assemblies, which began and ended with
cards, and which Mr. Warrington did not like so well as White's, because
the play there was neither so high nor so fair as at the club-table.

One day his kinsman, Lord Castlewood, took him to court, and presented
Harry to his Majesty, who was now come to town from Kensington. But that
gracious sovereign either did not like Harry's introducer, or had other
reasons for being sulky. His Majesty only said, "Oh, heard of you from
Lady Yarmouth. The Earl of Castlewood" (turning to his lordship, and
speaking in German) "shall tell him that he plays too much!" And so
saying, the Defender of the Faith turned his royal back.

Lord Castlewood shrank back quite frightened at this cold reception of
his august master.

"What does he say?" asked Harry.

"His Majesty thinks they play too high at White's, and is displeased,"
whispered the nobleman.

"If he does not want us, we had better not come again, that is all,"
said Harry, simply. "I never, somehow, considered that German fellow a
real King of England."

"Hush! for Heaven's sake, hold your confounded colonial tongue!" cries
out my lord. "Don't you see the walls here have ears!"

"And what then?" asks Mr. Warrington. "Why, look at the people! Hang me,
if it is not quite a curiosity! They were all shaking hands with me, and
bowing to me, and flattering me just now; and at present they avoid me
as if I were the plague!"

"Shake hands, nephew," said a broad-faced, broad-shouldered gentleman,
in a scarlet-laced waistcoat, and a great old-fashioned wig. "I heard
what you said. I have ears like the wall, look you. And, now, if other
people show you the cold shoulder, I'll give you my hand;" and so
saying, the gentleman put out a great brown hand, with which he grasped
Harry's. "Something of my brother about your eyes and face. Though I
suppose in