rs to Botany Bay. "A man who
has a stake in the country, my good Sir Wilfrid," Lord Huntingdon said,
with rather a patronizing air (his lordship had grown immensely fat
since the King had taken him into grace, and required a horse as strong
as an elephant to mount him)--"a man with a stake in the country
ought to stay IN the country. Property has its duties as well as its
privileges, and a person of my rank is bound to live on the land from
which he gets his living."

"'Amen!" sang out the Reverend ---- Tuck, his lordship's domestic
chaplain, who had also grown as sleek as the Abbot of Jorvaulx, who was
as prim as a lady in his dress, wore bergamot in his handkerchief, and
had his poll shaved and his beard curled every day. And so sanctified
was his Reverence grown, that he thought it was a shame to kill the
pretty deer, (though he ate of them still hugely, both in pasties and
with French beans and currant-jelly,) and being shown a quarter-staff
upon a certain occasion, handled it curiously, and asked "what that ugly
great stick was?"

Lady Huntingdon, late Maid Marian, had still some of her old fun and
spirits, and poor Ivanhoe begged and prayed that she would come and
stay at Rotherwood occasionally, and egayer the general dulness of that
castle. But her ladyship said that Rowena gave herself such airs, and
bored her so intolerably with stories of King Edward the Confessor, that
she preferred any place rather than Rotherwood, which was as dull as if
it had been at the top of Mount Athos.

The only person who visited it was Athelstane. "His Royal Highness the
Prince" Rowena of course called him, whom the lady received with
royal honors. She had the guns fired, and the footmen turned out with
presented arms when he arrived; helped him to all Ivanhoe's favorite
cuts of the mutton or the turkey, and forced her poor husband to
light him to the state bedroom, walking backwards, holding a pair of
wax-candles. At this hour of bedtime the Thane used to be in such a
condition, that he saw two pair of candles and two Ivanhoes reeling
before him. Let us hope it was not Ivanhoe that was reeling, but only
his kinsman's brains muddled with the quantities of drink which it was
his daily custom to consume. Rowena said it was the crack which the
wicked Bois Guilbert, "the Jewess's OTHER lover, Wilfrid my dear,"
gave him on his royal skull, which caused the Prince to be disturbed so
easily; but added, that drinking became a person of