ionable persons.

He had been introduced by Lord Claud into this gay assembly, and
was already half disposed to wish himself away.

Tom had been several weeks in town now; and after his first
encounter with Lord Claud, which had led to such close intimacy for
a few days, he had seen nothing of that remarkable personage for
the space of two or three weeks.

Although perhaps a little piqued that his patron had not sent him
so much as a line of invitation, or seemed to remember his
existence, Tom was not sure that he regretted his lack of memory.
Lord Claud had certainly fascinated his imagination, and won his
affections; but he seemed to be a mysterious character, whose
friendship might not prove too desirable a possession. It was not
his place, he thought, with the simple pride of the countryman, to
seek to thrust himself upon a man so much greater than himself. So
he had gone about seeing the sights of the town with Harry Gay,
spending his money with some freedom, and indulging in a little
play and dicing at various houses of entertainment. But he kept
within moderate bounds in his pleasures, both because he desired to
eke out his funds as far as possible, and because he did not wish
to fall under the displeasure of his kind host, Master Cale, the
father of pretty Rosamund.

Tom thought a good deal about Rosamund during the week, and
regarded Sunday as the red-letter day of his calendar. Master Cale
did not forbid him to be of their company upon the afternoons when
they walked abroad, and he and the maid were excellent friends by
this time, and exchanged many gay quips and sallies together.
Rosamund always made him tell the story of his past week in some
detail; and Tom had therefore another motive for keeping free from
scenes and company which would have made his story unfit hearing
for her pretty ears.

Already he had begun to think that when he had travelled and seen
the world, and was ready to go home and take up the duties which at
five and twenty would devolve upon him, he would return with far
greater contentment and pleasure if he could take back Rosamund as
his wife. He could not fancy that any life would be dull and
monotonous shared with her, nor any home dreary that was lightened
by the sunshine of her presence.

The image of Rosamund had begun almost to obliterate that of Lord
Claud in his imagination, when suddenly one day he found himself
again in company of that gentleman at the coffee house he