"Is there any thing I can do for you?" asked he at length, when he thought the baronet's curiosity had had time to satisfy itself.
"Nothing," replied Sir Ambrose; "but—"
"But—you would like to know who I am?" said the stranger.
"I own," returned Sir Ambrose, blushing, "I would fain know to whom I am so much obliged."
"My name is Henry Seymour," replied the youth. "I was born in Spain, of English parents. I am an orphan and in want; and have been introduced to the Queen, in hopes of getting a place at Court, by one of her Majesty's physicians, Dr. Coleman."
"I am quite ashamed," said Sir Ambrose, "that my indiscreet curiosity—that is, that you should have thought—I mean, that I should have asked for—"
"In short," interrupted the youth, "you think, perhaps, that I meant to call you rude by giving such a long account of myself: but I always do so in similar cases; it saves trouble."
Sir Ambrose smiled. "You are a singular youth," said he; "I should like to know you better."
"And I," returned the stranger, "should be proud to obtain the friendship of Sir Ambrose Montagu, and shall always reckon the day that introduced me to his notice, as one of the happiest of my life."
A glow of pleasure spread over the animated features of the youth as he spoke, and Sir Ambrose fancied his accent sounded slightly Irish: convinced, however, that he must be mistaken, he did not remark it, but only exclaimed, "You know me, then?"