ween ourselves, does not seem to push the young
man as he might do; I judge by what Randal says. I should write,
therefore, before any thing was settled, to L'Estrange, and I should say
to him simply, 'I never asked you to save me from penury, but I do ask
you to save a daughter of my house from humiliation. I can give to her
no dowry; can her husband owe to my friend that advance in an honorable
career--that opening to energy and talent--which is more than a dowry to
generous ambition?'"

"Oh, it is in vain you would disguise your rank," cried Jemima with
enthusiasm, "it speaks in all you utter, when your passions are moved."

The Italian did not seem flattered by this eulogy. "Pish," said he,
"there you are! rank again!"

But Jemima was right. There was something about her husband that was
grandiose and princely, whenever he escaped from his accursed Machiavel,
and gave fair play to his heart.

And he spent the next hour or so in thinking over all that he could do
for Randal, and devising for his intended son-in-law the agreeable
surprises, which Randal was at that very time racking his yet cleverer
brains to disappoint.

These plans conned sufficiently, Riccabocca shut up his Machiavel, and
hunted out of his scanty collection of books Buffon on Man, and various
other psychological volumes, in which he soon became deeply absorbed.
Why were these works the object of the sage's study? Perhaps he will let
us know soon, for it is clearly a secret known to his wife; and though
she has hitherto kept one secret, that is precisely the reason why
Riccabocca would not wish long to overburthen her discretion with
another.

CHAPTER XIII.

Randal reached home in time to dress for a late dinner at Baron Levy's.

The Baron's style of living was of that character especially affected
both by the most acknowledged exquisites of that day, and, it must be
owned, also, by the most egregious _parvenus_. For it is noticeable that
it is your _parvenu_ who always comes nearest in fashion (so far as
externals are concerned) to your genuine exquisite. It is your _parvenu_
who is most particular as to the cut of his coat, and the precision of
his equipage, and the minutiae of his _menage_. Those between the
_parvenu_ and the exquisite, who know their own consequence, and have
something solid to rest upon, are slow in following all the caprices of
fashion, and obtuse in observation as to those niceties which neither
give them another