town, ere the
next day is over, has heard of his coming and departure, praised his
kindliness and generosity, and no doubt contrasted it with the different
behaviour of the Baronet, his brother, who has gone for some time by
the ignominious sobriquet of Screwcome, in the neighbourhood of his
ancestral hall.

Dear old nurse Mason will have a score of visits to make and to receive,
at all of which you may be sure that triumphal advent of the Colonel's
will be discussed and admired. Mrs. Mason will show her beautiful
new India shawl, and her splendid Bible with the large print, and the
affectionate inscription, from Thomas Newcome to his dearest old friend;
her little maid will exhibit her new gown; the curate will see the
Bible, and Mrs. Bulders will admire the shawl; and the old friends and
humble companions of the good old lady, as they take their Sunday
walks by the pompous lodge-gates of Newcome Park, which stand with the
Baronet's new-fangled arms over them, gilded, and filagreed, and barred,
will tell their stories, too, about the kind Colonel and his hard
brother. When did Sir Brian ever visit a poor old woman's cottage, or
his bailiff exempt from the rent? What good action, except a few thin
blankets and beggarly coal and soup tickets, did Newcome Park ever do
for the poor? And as for the Colonel's wealth, Lord bless you, he's been
in India these five-and-thirty years; the Baronet's money is a drop in
the sea to his. The Colonel is the kindest, the best, the richest of
men. These facts and opinions, doubtless, inspired the eloquent pen
of "Peeping Tom," when he indited the sarcastic epistle to the Newcome
Independent, which we perused over Sir Brian Newcome's shoulder in the
last chapter.

And you may be sure Thomas Newcome had not been many weeks in England
before good little Miss Honeyman, at Brighton, was favoured with a
visit from her dear Colonel. The envious Gawler scowling out of his
bow-window, where the fly-blown card still proclaimed that his lodgings
were unoccupied, had the mortification to behold a yellow post-chaise
drive up to Miss Honeyman's door, and having discharged two gentlemen
from within, trot away with servant and baggage to some house of
entertainment other than Gawler's. Whilst this wretch was cursing his
own ill fate, and execrating yet more deeply Miss Honeyman's better
fortune, the worthy little lady was treating her Colonel to a sisterly
embrace and a solemn reception. Hannah, the f