"My dear Tony, you little know how such people are overwhelmed with
such-like applications, and what slight chance there is that you will be
distinguished from the rest."

"At all events, I shall not have the humiliation of a patron. If he will
do anything for me, it will be for the sake of my father's memory, and I
need not be ashamed of that."

"What shall I write, then?" And she took up her pen.

"Sir--I suppose he is 'Sir;' or is he 'My Lord'?"

"No. His name is Sir Harry Elphinstone."

"Sir,--The young man who bears this note is the only son
of the late Colonel Walter Butler, C.B. He has no fortune,
no profession, no friends, and very little ability. Can you
place him in any position where he may acquire some of the
three first and can dispense with the last?

"Your humble servant,

"Eleanor Butler."

"Oh, Tony! you don't think we could send such a letter as this?" said
she, with a half-sad smile.

"I am certain I could deliver it, mother," said he, gravely, "and I 'm
sure that it would answer its purpose just as well as a more finished
composition."

"Let me at least make a good copy of it," said she, as he folded it up
and placed it in an envelope.

"No, no," said he; "just write his name, and all the fine things that
he is sure to be, before and after it, and, as I said before, leave the
issue to me."

"And when would you think of going, Tony?"

"To-morrow morning, by the steamer that will pass this on the way to
Liverpool. I know the Captain, and he will give me a passage; he's
always teasing me to take a trip with him."

"To-morrow! but how could you get ready by to-morrow? I 'll have to look
over all your clothes, Tony."

"My dear little mother," said he, passing his arm round her, and kissing
her affectionately, "how easy it is to hold a review where there 's only
a corporal's guard for inspection! All my efficient movables will
fit into a very small portmanteau, and I 'll pack it in less than ten
minutes."

"I see no necessity for all this haste, particularly where we have so
much to consider and talk over. We ought to consult the doctor, too;
he's a warm friend, Tony, and bears you a sincere affection."

"He's a good fellow; I like him anywhere but in the pulpit," muttered
he, below his breath. "And he 'd like to write to his daughter; she's
a governess in some family near Putney, I think. I 'll go and see her;
Dolly and I are old playfellows. I do