lesser patronage as himself,
and his hours of study were passed in the pages of the "Peerage" and in
penetrating the mysteries of the "Royal Calendar."

The events of 1832, therefore, to this gentleman were scarcely a less
severe blow than to the Ferrars family itself. Indeed, like his chief,
he looked upon himself as the victim of a revolution. Mr. Rodney had
always been an admirer of Sylvia, but no more. He had accompanied her
to the theatre, and had attended her to the park, but this was quite
understood on both sides only to be gallantry; both, perhaps, in their
prosperity, with respect to the serious step of life, had indulged in
higher dreams. But the sympathy of sorrow is stronger than the sympathy
of prosperity. In the darkness of their lives, each required comfort: he
murmured some accents of tender solace, and Sylvia agreed to become Mrs.
Rodney.

When they considered their position, the prospect was not free from
anxiety. To marry and then separate is, where there is affection,
trying. His income would secure them little more than a roof, but how to
live under that roof was a mystery. For her to become a governess, and
for him to become a secretary, and to meet only on an occasional Sunday,
was a sorry lot. And yet both possessed accomplishments or acquirements
which ought in some degree to be productive. Rodney had a friend, and he
determined to consult him.

That friend was no common person; he was Mr. Vigo, by birth a
Yorkshireman, and gifted with all the attributes, physical and
intellectual, of that celebrated race. At present he was the most
fashionable tailor in London, and one whom many persons consulted.
Besides being consummate in his art, Mr. Vigo had the reputation
of being a man of singularly good judgment. He was one who obtained
influence over all with whom he came in contact, and as his business
placed him in contact with various classes, but especially with the
class socially most distinguished, his influence was great. The golden
youth who repaired to his counters came there not merely to obtain
raiment of the best material and the most perfect cut, but to see and
talk with Mr. Vigo, and to ask his opinion on various points. There
was a spacious room where, if they liked, they might smoke a cigar, and
"Vigo's cigars" were something which no one could rival. If they liked
to take a glass of hock with their tobacco, there was a bottle ready
from the cellars of Johannisberg. Mr. Vigo's stabl