report the
boy gave of his studies, pretending to understand little George when he
spoke regarding them. He made a hundred blunders, and showed his
ignorance many a time, which George was quick to see and which did not
increase the respect which the child had for his senior.

In fact, as young George had lorded it over the tender, yielding nature
of his mother, so the coarse pomposity of the dull old man with whom he
next came in contact, made him lord over the latter, too. If he had been
a prince royal, he could not have been better brought up to think well of
himself, and while his mother was yearning after him at home, he was
having a number of pleasures and consolations administered to him which
made the separation from Amelia a very easy matter to him. In fact,
Master George Osborne had every comfort and luxury that a wealthy and
lavish old grandfather thought fit to provide. He had the handsomest pony
which could be bought, and on this was taught to ride, first at a
riding-school, then in state to Regent's Park, and then to Hyde Park with
Martin the coachman behind him.

Though he was scarcely eleven years of age, Master George wore straps,
and the most beautiful little boots, like a man. He had gilt spurs and a
gold-headed whip and a fine pin in his neckerchief, and the neatest
little kid gloves which could be bought. His mother had given him a
couple of neckcloths, and carefully made some little shirts for him; but
when her Samuel came to see the widow, they were replaced by much finer
linen. He had little jewelled buttons in the lawn shirt fronts. Her
humble presents had been put aside--I believe Miss Osborne had given them
to the coachman's boy.

Amelia tried to think she was pleased at the change. Indeed, she was
happy and charmed to see the boy looking so beautiful. She had a little
black profile of him done for a shilling, which was hung over her bed.
One day the boy came galloping down on his accustomed visit to her, and
with great eagerness pulled a red morocco case out of his coat pocket.

"I bought it with my own money, mamma," he said. "I thought you'd like
it."

Amelia opened the case, and giving a little cry of delighted affection,
seized him and embraced him a hundred times. It was a miniature of
himself, very prettily done by an artist who had just executed his
portrait for his grandfather. Georgie, who had plenty of money, bethought
him to ask the painter how much a copy of the portrait would