s, there was yet another reason
for attachment, which might at first seem too delicate to actuate the
refined voluptuary; but examined closely, the delicacy vanished. Saville
had loved, at least had offered his hand to--Godolphin's mother (she was
supposed an heiress!) He thought he had just missed being Godolphin's
father: his vanity made him like to show the boy what a much better
father he would have been than the one that Providence had given him.
His resentment, too, against the accepted suitor, made him love to
exercise a little spiteful revenge against Godolphin's father; he was
glad to show that the son preferred where the mother rejected. All these
motives combined made Saville take, as it were, to the young Percy;
and being rich, and habitually profuse, though prudent, and a shrewd
speculator withal, the pecuniary part of his kindness cost him no pain.
But Godolphin, who was not ostentatious, did not trust himself largely
to the capricious fount of the worldling's generosity. Fortune smiled on
her boyish votary; and during the short time he was obliged to cultivate
her favours, showered on him at least a sufficiency for support, or even
for display.

Crowded with fine people, and blazing with light, were the rooms of the
Countess of B----, as, flushed from a late dinner at Saville's, young
Godolphin made his appearance in the scene. He was not of those numerous
gentlemen, the stock-flowers of the parterre, who stick themselves up
against walls in the panoply of neckclothed silence. He came not to
balls from the vulgar motive of being seen there in the most conspicuous
situation--a motive so apparent among the stiff exquisites of England.
He came to amuse himself; and if he found no one capable of amusing
him, he saw no necessity in staying. He was always seen, therefore,
conversing or dancing, or listening to music--or he was not seen at all.

In exchanging a few words with a Colonel D----, a noted roue and
gamester, he observed, gazing on him very intently--and as Percy
thought, very rudely--an old gentleman in a dress of the last century.
Turn where he would, Godolphin could not rid himself of the gaze; so
at length he met it with a look of equal scrutiny and courage. The old
gentleman slowly approached. "Percy Godolphin, I think?" said he.

"That is _my_ name, sir," replied Percy. "Yours----"

"No matter! Yet stay! you shall know it. I am Henry Johnstone--old Harry
Johnstone. You have heard of him?--your