ieur
Collard finished his career as his exemplary tutor, Mr. John Jefferies,
had done before him. Ah! what a fine thing it is to have a good heart!

But to return. Just as our wanderers had arrived at the farther end
of the park, Lady Westborough and her daughter passed them. Clarence,
excusing himself to his friend, hastened towards them, and was soon
occupied in saying the prettiest things in the world to the prettiest
person, at least in his eyes; while Sir Christopher, having done as much
mischief as a good heart well can do in a walk of an hour, returned home
to write a long letter to his mother, against "learning and all such
nonsense, which only served to blunt the affections and harden the
heart."

"Admirable young man!" cried the mother, with tears in her eyes. "A good
heart is better than all the heads in the world."

Amen!

CHAPTER XXXIV.

"Make way, Sir Geoffrey Peveril, or you will compel me to do
that I may be sorry for!"

"You shall make no way here but at your peril," said Sir
Geoffrey; "this is my ground."--Peveril of the Peak.

One night on returning home from a party at Lady Westborough's in
Hanover Square, Clarence observed a man before him walking with an
uneven and agitated step. His right hand was clenched, and he frequently
raised it as with a sudden impulse, and struck fiercely as if at some
imagined enemy.

The stranger slackened his pace. Clarence passed him, and, turning round
to satisfy the idle curiosity which the man's eccentric gestures had
provoked, his eye met a dark, lowering, iron countenance, which, despite
the lapse of four years, he recognized on the moment: it was Wolfe, the
republican.

Clarence moved, involuntarily, with a quicker step; but in a few
minutes, Wolfe, who was vehemently talking to himself, once more passed
him; the direction he took was also Clarence's way homeward, and he
therefore followed the republican, though at some slight distance,
and on the opposite side of the way. A gentleman on foot, apparently
returning from a party, met Wolfe, and, with an air half haughty, half
unconscious, took the wall; though, according to old-fashioned rules of
street courtesy, he was on the wrong side for asserting the claim.
The stern republican started, drew himself up to his full height, and
sturdily and doggedly placed himself directly in the way of the unjust
claimant. Clarence was now nearly opposite to the two, and saw all that
was g