hough he were
to be seen walking down St. James's Street to-morrow. But they are a
sanguine gentry, these holders of bills, and I really believe that if
they could see him they would embrace him with the warmest affection. In
the mean time let us have some dinner, and we will talk about poor
Mountjoy when we have got rid of young Pitcher. Young Pitcher is my
laundress's son to the use of whose services I have been promoted since
I have been known to be the heir of Tretton."

Then they sat down and dined, and Augustus Scarborough made himself
agreeable. The small dinner was excellent of its kind, and the wine was
all that it ought to be. During dinner not a word was said as to
Mountjoy, nor as to the affairs of the estate. Augustus, who was old for
his age, and had already practised himself much in London life, knew
well how to make himself agreeable. There was plenty to be said while
young Pitcher was passing in and out of the room, so that there appeared
no awkward vacancies of silence while one course succeeded the other.
The weather was very hot, the grouse were very tempting, everybody was
very dull, and members of Parliament more stupid than anybody else; but
a good time was coming. Would Harry come down to Tretton and see the old
governor? There was not much to offer him in the way of recreation, but
when September came the partridges would abound. Harry gave a
half-promise that he would go to Tretton for a week, and Augustus
Scarborough expressed himself as much gratified. Harry at the moment
thought of no reason why he should not go to Tretton, and thus
committed himself to the promise; but he afterward felt that Tretton was
of all places the last which he ought just at present to visit.

At last Pitcher and the cheese were gone, and young Scarborough produced
his cigars. "I want to smoke directly I've done eating," he said.
"Drinking goes with smoking as well as it does with eating, so there
need be no stop for that. Now, tell me, Annesley, what is it that you
think about Mountjoy?"

There was an abruptness in the question which for the moment struck
Harry dumb. How was he to say what he thought about Mountjoy
Scarborough, even though he should have no feeling to prevent him from
expressing the truth? He knew, or thought that he knew, Mountjoy
Scarborough to be a thorough blackguard; one whom no sense of honesty
kept from spending money, and who was now a party to robbing his
creditors without the slightest