ead of the morning newspapers. Their talk was like
the chirrup of birds. Temple and his father walked away together to
chambers, bent upon actual business--upon doing something! I reflected
emphatically, and compared them to ships with rudders, while I was at
the mercy of wind, tide, and wave. I called at Dettermain and Newson's,
and heard there of a discovery of a witness essential to the case,
either in North Wales or in New South. I did not, as I had intended, put
a veto on their proceedings. The thing to do was to see my father, and
cut the case at the fountain head. For this purpose, it was imperative
that I should go to him, and prepare myself for the interview by looking
at the newspapers first. I bought one, hastily running my eyes down the
columns in the shop. His name was printed, but merely in a fashionable
notification that carriages took up and set down for his costume Ball,
according to certain regulations. The relief of comparative obscurity
helped me to breathe freely: not to be laughed at, was a gain. I was
rather inclined to laud his courage in entering assembly-rooms, where
he must be aware that he would see the Dauphin on every face. Perhaps he
was guilty of some new extravagance last night, too late for scandal to
reinforce the reporters!

Mrs. Waddy had a woeful visage when informing me that he was out, gone
to Courtenay Square. She ventured a murmur of bills coming in. Like
everybody else, she fancied he drew his supplies from my inexhaustible
purse; she hoped the bills would be paid off immediately: the servants'
wages were overdue. 'Never can I get him to attend to small accounts,'
she whimpered, and was so ready to cry outright, that I said, 'Tusk,'
and with the one word gave her comfort. 'Of course, you, Mr. Harry,
can settle them, I know that.' We were drawing near to poor old Sewis's
legacy, even for the settling of the small accounts!

London is a narrow place to one not caring to be seen. I could not
remain in this creditor-riddled house; I shunned the Parks, the Clubs,
and the broad, brighter streets of the West. Musing on the refreshing
change it would be to me to find myself suddenly on board Captain Jasper
Welsh's barque Priscilla, borne away to strange climes and tongues,
the world before me, I put on the striding pace which does not invite
interruption, and no one but Edbury would have taken the liberty.
I heard his shout. 'Halloa! Richmond.' He was driving his friend
Witlington in