"Major," said I, "I cannot tell you how much I am obliged to you for
your kindness in taking all this trouble off my hands, that I might
follow up the agreeable introduction you have given me to Mr Harcourt."

"My dear Newland, say no more; you will, I dare say, do the same for me
if I require it, when I give a dinner. (Harcourt caught my eye, as if
to say, `You may safely promise that.') But, Newland, do you know that
the nephew of Lord Windermear has just arrived? Did you meet abroad?"

"No," replied I, somewhat confused; but I soon recovered myself. As for
Tim, he bolted out of the room. "What sort of a person is he?"

"That you may judge for yourself, my dear fellow, for I asked him to
join us, I must say, more out of compliment to Lord Windermear than
anything else; for I am afraid that even I could never make a gentleman
of him. But take Harcourt with you to your room, and by the time you
have washed your hands, I will have dinner on the table. I took the
liberty of desiring your valet to show me in about ten minutes ago.
He's a shrewd fellow that of yours--where did you pick him up?"

"By mere accident," replied I: "come, Mr Harcourt."

On our return we found the real Simon Pure, Mr Estcourt, sitting with
the major, who introduced us, and dinner being served, we sat down to
table.

Mr Estcourt was a young man, about my own age, but not so tall by two
or three inches. His features were prominent, but harsh; and when I saw
him, I was not at all surprised at Lord Windermear's expressions of
satisfaction, when he supposed that I was his nephew. His countenance
was dogged and sullen, and he spoke little: he appeared to place an
immense value upon birth, and hardly deigned to listen, except the
aristocracy were the subject of discourse. I treated him with marked
deference, that I might form an acquaintance, and found before we parted
that night, that I had succeeded. Our dinner was excellent, and we were
all, except Mr Estcourt, in high good humour. We sat late--too late to
go to the theatre, and promising to meet the next day at noon, Harcourt
and the major took their leave.

Mr Estcourt had indulged rather too much, and, after their departure,
became communicative. I plied the bottle, and we sat up for more than
an hour; he talked of nothing but his family and his expectations. I
took this opportunity of discovering what his feelings were likely to be
when he was made acquainted with the importan