iend of mine, Mr. Bolding,
a clergyman, has a son,--a wild fellow, who is likely to get into
all sorts of scrapes in England, but with plenty of good in him
notwithstanding, frank, bold, not wanting in talent, but rather in
prudence, easily tempted and led away into extravagance. He would
make a capital colonist (no such temptations in the Bush!) if tied
to a youth like you. Now I propose, with your leave, that his
father shall advance him L1,500, which shall not, however, be
placed in his hands, but in yours, as head partner in the firm.
You, on your side, shall advance the same sum of L1,500, which you
shall borrow from me for three years without interest. At the end
of that time interest shall commence; and the capital, with the
interest on the said first three years, shall be repaid to me, or
my executors, on your return. After you have been a year or two in
the Bush, and felt your way, and learned your business, you may
then safely borrow L1,500 more from your father; and, in the mean
while, you and your partner will have had together the full sum of
L3,000 to commence with. You see in this proposal I make you no
gift, and I run no risk even by your death. If you die insolvent,
I will promise to come on your father, poor fellow; for small joy
and small care will he have then in what may be left of his
fortune. There--I have said all; and I will never forgive you if
you reject an aid that will serve you so much and cost me so
little.

I accept your congratulations on Fanny's engagement with Lord
Castleton. When you return from Australia you will still be a
young man, she (though about your own years) almost a middle-aged
woman, with her head full of pomps and vanities. All girls have a
short period of girlhood in common; but when they enter womanhood,
the woman becomes the woman of her class. As for me, and the
office assigned to me by report, you know what I said when we
parted, and--But here J---- comes, and tells me that "I am expected
to speak, and answer N----, who is just up, brimful of malice,"--the
House crowded, and hungering for personalities. So I, the man of
the Old World, gird up my loins, and leave you, with a sigh, to the
fresh youth of the New

"Ne tibi sit duros acuisse in prcelia dentes."

Yours affectionately,

Albert Trevanion.

CHAPTER VII.

So, reader, thou art now