and that I am
safely delivered of such villainous company; 'to forswear sack and live
cleanly,' during the rest of my sublunary existence."

After this long detail of Mr. Russelton's, the conversation was but dull
and broken. I could not avoid indulging a reverie upon what I had
heard, and my host was evidently still revolving the recollections
his narration had conjured up; we sat opposite each other for several
minutes as abstracted and distracted as if we had been a couple two
months married; till at last I rose, and tendered my adieus. Russelton
received them with his usual coldness, but more than his usual civility,
for he followed me to the door.

Just as they were about to shut it, he called me back. "Mr. Pelham,"
said he, "Mr. Pelham, when you come back this way, do look in upon me,
and--and as you will be going a good deal into society, just find out
what people say of my manner of life!" [It will be perceived by those
readers who are kind or patient enough to reach the conclusion of this
work, that Russelton is specified as one of my few dramatis personae of
which only the first outline is taken from real life: all the rest--all,
indeed, which forms and marks the character thus briefly delineated, is
drawn solely from imagination.]

CHAPTER XXXIV.

An old worshipful gentleman, that had a great estate, And kept a brave
old house at a hospitable rate.--Old Song.

I think I may, without much loss to the reader, pass in silence over
my voyage, the next day, to Dover. (Horrible reminiscence!) I may also
spare him an exact detail of all the inns and impositions between that
sea-port and London; nor will it be absolutely necessary to the plot of
this history, to linger over every mile-stone between the metropolis
and Glenmorris Castle, where my uncle and my mother were impatiently
awaiting the arrival of the candidate to be.

It was a fine bright evening when my carriage entered the park. I had
not seen the place for years; and I felt my heart swell with something
like family pride, as I gazed on the magnificent extent of hill and
plain that opened upon me, as I passed the ancient and ivy-covered
lodge. Large groups of trees, scattered on either side, seemed, in their
own antiquity, the witness of that of the family which had given them
existence. The sun set on the waters which lay gathered in a lake at
the foot of the hill, breaking the waves into unnumbered sapphires, and
tinging the dark firs that o