at I met Lawrence Vaughan in
Bath. He was not staying at Gay Street, so I could still have the vacant
room next to Derrick's. Lawrence put up at the York House Hotel.

"For you know," he informed me, "I really can't stand the governor for
more than an hour or two at a time."

"Derrick manages to do it," I said.

"Oh, Derrick, yes," he replied, "it's his metier, and he is well
accustomed to the life. Besides, you know, he is such a dreamy, quiet
sort of fellow; he lives all the time in a world of his own creation,
and bears the discomforts of this world with great philosophy. Actually
he has turned teetotaller! It would kill me in a week."

I make a point of never arguing with a fellow like that, but I think I
had a vindictive longing, as I looked at him, to shut him up with the
Major for a month, and see what would happen.

These twin brothers were curiously alike in face and curiously unlike in
nature. So much for the great science of physiognomy! It often seemed to
me that they were the complement of each other. For instance, Derrick in
society was extremely silent, Lawrence was a rattling talker; Derrick,
when alone with you, would now and then reveal unsuspected depths of
thought and expression; Lawrence, when alone with you, very frequently
showed himself to be a cad. The elder twin was modest and diffident, the
younger inclined to brag; the one had a strong tendency to melancholy,
the other was blest or cursed with the sort of temperament which has
been said to accompany "a hard heart and a good digestion."

I was not surprised to find that the son who could not tolerate the
governor's presence for more than an hour or two, was a prime favourite
with the old man; that was just the way of the world. Of course, the
Major was as polite as possible to him; Derrick got the kicks and
Lawrence the half-pence.

In the evenings we played whist, Lawrence coming in after dinner, "For,
you know," he explained to me, "I really couldn't get through a meal
with nothing but those infernal mineral waters to wash it down."

And here I must own that at my first visit I had sailed rather close to
the wind; for when the Major, like the Hatter in 'Alice,' pressed me
to take wine, I--not seeing any--had answered that I did not take it;
mentally adding the words, "in your house, you brute!"

The two brothers were fond of each other after a fashion. But Derrick
was human, and had his faults like the rest of us; and I am pretty su