“We are so easily taken in, madam—we are both very young yet—we shall grow older and learn better.”
“Most sincerely, nephew George, I trust you may. You have my best wishes, my prayers, for your brother's welfare and your own. No efforts of ours have been wanting. At a painful moment, to which I will not further allude—”
“And when my uncle Sir Miles was out of town,” says George, looking towards the Baronet, who smiles at him with affectionate approval.
“—I sent your brother a work which I thought might comfort him, and I know might improve him. Nay, do not thank me; I claim no credit; I did but my duty—a humble woman's duty—for what are this world's goods, nephew, compared to the welfare of a soul? If I did good, I am thankful; if I was useful, I rejoice. If, through my means, you have been brought, Harry, to consider——”
“Oh! the sermon, is it?” breaks in downright Harry. “I hadn't time to read a single syllable of it, aunt—thank you. You see I don't care much about that kind of thing—but thank you all the same.”
“The intention is everything,” says Mr. Warrington, “and we are both grateful. Our dear friend, General Lambert, intended to give bail for Harry; but, happily, I had funds of Harry's with me to meet any demands upon us. But the kindness is the same, and I am grateful to the friend who hastened to my brother's rescue when he had most need of aid, and when his own relations happened—so unfortunately—to be out of town.”
“Anything I could do, my dear boy, I'm sure—my brother's son—my own nephew—ods bobs! you know—that is, anything—anything, you know!” cries Sir Miles, bringing his own hand into George's with a generous smack. “You can't stay and dine with us? Put off the Colonel—the General—do, now! Or name a day. My Lady Warrington, make my nephew name a day when he will sit under his grandfather's picture, and drink some of his wine!”
“His intellectual faculties seem more developed than those of his unlucky younger brother,” remarked my lady, when the young gentlemen had taken their leave. “The younger must be reckless and extravagant about money indeed, for did you remark, Sir Miles, the loss of his reversion in Virginia—the amount of which has, no doubt, been grossly exaggerated, but, nevertheless, must be something considerable—did you, I say, remark that the ruin of Harry's prospects scarcely seemed to affect him?”
“I shouldn't be at all surprised that the elder turns out to be as poor as the young one,” says Dora, tossing her head.
“He! he! Did you see that cousin George had one of cousin Harry's suits of clothes on—the brown and gold—that one he wore when he went with you to the oratorio, Flora?”