“And who,” uncourteously interrupted Clarence, “has Mordaunt Court now?”
“Why, a distant relation of the last squire’s, an elderly gentleman who calls himself Mr. Vavasour Mordaunt. I am going there to-morrow morning, for I still keep up a connection with the family. Indeed the old gentleman bought a lovely little ape of me, which I did intend as a present to the late (as I may call him) Mr. Mordaunt; so, though I will not say I exactly like him,—he is a hard hand at a bargain,—yet at least I will not deny him his due.”
“What sort of a person is he? What character does he bear?” asked Clarence.
“I really find it hard to answer that question,” said the gossiping Mr. Brown. “In great things he is very lavish and ostentatious, but in small things he is very penurious and saving, and miser-like; and all for one son, who is deformed and very sickly. He seems to dote on that boy; and now I have got two or three little presents in these bags for Mr. Henry. Heaven forgive me, but when I look at the poor creature, with his face all drawn up, and his sour, ill-tempered voice, and his limbs crippled, I almost think it would be better if he were in his grave, and the rightful Mr. Mordaunt, who would then be the next of kin, in his place.”
“So then, there is only this unhappy cripple between Mr. Mordaunt and the property?” said Clarence.
“Exactly so, sir. But will you let me ask where you shall put up at W——? I will wait upon you, if you will give me leave, with some very curious and valuable articles, highly desirable either for yourself or for little presents to your friends.”
“I thank you,” said Clarence, “I shall make no stay at W——, but I shall be glad to see you in town next week. Favour me, meanwhile, by accepting this trifle.”
“Nay, nay, sir,” said Mr. Brown, pocketing the money, “I really cannot accept this; anything in the way of exchange,—a ring, or a seal, or—”
“No, no, not at present,” said Clarence; “the night is coming on, and I shall make the best of my way. Good-by, Mr. Brown;” and Clarence trotted off: but he had scarce got sixty yards before he heard the itinerant merchant cry out, “Mr. Linden, Mr. Linden!” and looking back, he beheld the honest Brown putting his shaggy pony at full speed, in order to overtake him; so he pulled up.
“Well, Mr. Brown, what do you want?”