"I perceive," he said, "that the lapse of time which has occurred since we met, together with the accession of well-deserved fortunes and dignities, and the cares consequent thereupon, has obliterated from your memory, my lord, the person of a former friend. I must, therefore, announce myself as Sir Roger Millington."
The peer bowed haughtily. "I once," he said, "had some acquaintance with a person of that name; but, as you say, sir, the lapse of time has been so great since we have held any communication with each other, that I certainly did not expect it to be so suddenly renewed, and far less to be favoured with an unannounced visit at a time which, perhaps, may not be the most convenient."
"My lord," replied his companion, unrebuffed, "I am happy to find that your lordship's memory extends to our acquaintance at least; and to refresh it in regard to the degree of that acquaintance, I think I could show you some letters in your lordship's hand, beginning, some, 'My dear friend!' some, 'My dear Millington!' some, 'Damn it, my dear Millington!' with an elegant variety in the terms, whereby your lordship was kind enough to express your friendship for your humble servant."
Lord Dewry coloured highly between anger and shame; but he did not feel at all the more disposed to receive Sir Roger Millington kindly on account of these proofs of their former intimacy. He had not forgotten, any more than his visiter, that they had once been choice companions in both the elegant and inelegant debaucheries of a London life; but a great change in situation, and a total change in feelings, had made the peer as desirous of forgetting the past as the other was of recalling it; and he hated him in proportion as he felt himself thwarted. Sir Roger Millington, however, had calculated his game with the utmost nicety; and once that nothing was to be obtained by gentler means, and determined, therefore, if possible, to force him to the object towards which he could not lead him. Such had been his motive in the somewhat pointed and galling manner in which he had repeated some of Lord Dewry's former expressions of regard, and he was not a little gratified to see the colour rise in his cheek as he spoke.
Lord Dewry's reply, however, which immediately followed, was not quite so much to his taste; for the peer also played his part skilfully; and though, in reality, as angry as Sir Roger desired, he concealed his anger, and replied in the same cold haughty tone. "You recall to me, sir," he said, "days of which I am heartily ashamed, scenes of which we have neither of us reason to be proud, and expressions which I greatly wish could be retracted."
"I am sorry, as your lordship wishes it, that such a thing is not possible," answered the persevering Sir Roger; "but I think, if you will take a few moments to consider, your lordship may find reason to change some of your sentiments. I may have become an altered man as well as Lord Dewry; and if so, his lordship will have no cause to hate or shun an old friend, because he once followed in a course which his lordship led, and has since followed in his repentance. I hear that a mutual friend of your lordship's and my own is coming to England soon, if not already on his way from America--I mean Sir William Ryder; and I should be sorry to have to tell him, on his return, that your lordship casts off your old acquaintances. You had better consider of it, my lord."
"I shall consider nothing, sir," replied the peer, "except that my time is too valuable to be wasted in idle discourse, which can end in nothing; and therefore I have the honour of wishing you good-morning." Thus saying, he stood for about the space of a minute and a half, expecting Sir Roger to leave the room; but being disappointed, he himself turned upon his heel, with a curling lip and a flashing eye, and quitted the library, leaving the door open behind him.
Sir Roger Millington stood for a moment or two in some embarrassment, but at length impudence and necessity prevailed. "No," cried he; "no: damn it, it will never do to be beaten when one has resolved on such an attack. Curse me, if I don't die in the breach, like other heroes. Why, if I cannot raise a hundred or two I'm done, that's clear. No, no: I'll not stir;" and casting himself down into a chair, he coolly took up a book and began to read.
[CHAPTER XV.]
"To be teased with such an insolent scoundrel at such a moment as this!" thought the peer, as he strode hastily to his usual sitting-room: "it is insufferable! I have a great mind to order the villains that let him in to horsewhip him out again for their pains: I believe that they will some day drive me mad among them!" And stamping his foot upon the ground, as was his custom when very angry, he clenched his thin hand as if he would have struck the object of his indignation. Suddenly, however, stopping in the midst of his passion, he fell into deep thought, which kept him standing in the middle of the room for two or three minutes; then approaching the bell, he rang it calmly. His own valet, whose peculiar province was to attend to that especial sitting-room, appeared in less time than ordinary. "Is the gentleman who was in the little library gone?" demanded the peer.