yo' never sen [say] so!"

"Ay, but I do. Let be; I'll have a bit of green stuff, or something."

And as Rachel, looking but half satisfied, went off with the basket,
Temperance threw open the parlour door.

"Madam, suffer me to announce the Duke of Damask, the Prince of Plush,
the Viscount of Velvet, and the Baron of Bombast. Pray you, look not
for four nobles; there is but one."

"Aubrey!" was the response, in diverse tones, from the three ladies.

The object of this attention did not look happy; but he walked in and
offered due greeting to his relatives. Temperance sat down, untied her
plain black hood, and laid it aside.

"And whither might your Lordship be going when I captivated you?" asked
she. "Not to this house, for you had passed it by."

"In good sooth, Aunt, I did not--I meant, indeed--I should maybe have
looked in," stammered the young man.

"Tell no lies, my lad, for thou dost it very ill," was Aunt Temperance's
most inconsiderate reply.

"You might come to see us oftener, I'm sure, Aubrey, if you would," said
his mother in a plaintive voice. "It is hard, when I have only one
child, that he should never care to come. I wish you had been a girl
like Lettice, and then we could have had some comfort out of you."

"My dear," said Aunt Temperance, "he is devoutly thankful he's not. He
doesn't want to be tied at the aprons of a parcel of women, trust me.
Have you had your pipe of open-work, or what you are pleased to call it,
Gentleman, this morrow? Only think of hanging that filthy stench about
those velvet fal-lals! With whom spent you last even, lad?"

The question came so suddenly that Aubrey was startled into truth.
"With some friends of mine in the Strand, Aunt." The next instant he
was sorry.

"Let's have their names," said Aunt Temperance.

"Well, Tom Rookwood was one."

"Folks generally put the best atop. Hope _he_ wasn't the best. Who
else?"

"Some gentlemen to whom Rookwood introduced me."

"I want their names," said the female examiner.

"Well--one of them is a Mr Winter." Aubrey spoke with great
reluctance, as his aunt saw well. He selected Winter's name as being
least uncommon of the group. But he soon found that Destiny, in the
person of Aunt Temperance, did not mean to let him off so lightly as
this.

"What sort of an icicle is he?"

"He isn't an icicle at all, Aunt, but a very good fellow and right
pleasant company."

"Prithee bring him to see us. Where