" replied the baronet, rubbing his hands
cheerfully. "Hang it, how like?" he exclaimed, looking at him once more.
"You resemble me confoundedly, Tom--at least in person; and if you do
in mind and purpose, we'll harmonize perfectly. Well, then, I have a
thousand questions to ask you, but I will have time enough for that
again; in the meantime, Tom, what's your opinion of life--of the
world--of man, Tom, and of woman? I wish to know what kind of stuff
you're made of."

"Of life, sir--why, that we are to take the most we can out of it. Of
the world--that I despise it. Of man--that every one is a rogue when
he's found out, and that if he suffers himself to be found out he's a
fool; so that the fools and the rogues have it between them."

"And where do you leave the honest men, Tom?"

"The what, sir?"

"The honest men."

"I'm not acquainted, sir, nor have I ever met a man who was, with any
animal of that class. The world, sir, is a moral fiction; a mere term in
language that represents negation."

"Well, but woman?"

"Born to administer to our pleasure, our interest, or our ambition, with
no other purpose in life. Have I answered my catechism like a good boy,
sir?"

"Very well, indeed, Tom. Why, in your notions of life and the world, you
seem to be quite an adept."

"I am glad, sir, that you approve of them. So far we are likely to
agree. I feel quite proud, sir, that my sentiments are in unison with
yours. But where is my sister, sir? I am quite impatient to see her."

"I will send for her immediately. And now that I have an opportunity,
let me guard you against her influence. I am anxious to bring about a
marriage between her and a young nobleman--Lord Dunroe--who will soon be
the Earl of Cullamore, for his old father is dying, or near it, and then
Lucy will be a countess. To effect this has been the great ambition of
my life. Now, you must not only prevent Lucy from gaining you over to
her interests, for she would nearly as soon die as marry him."

"Pshaw!"

"What do you pshaw for, Tom?"

"All nonsense, sir. She doesn't know her own mind; or, rather, she ought
to have no mind on the subject."

"Perfectly right; my identical sentiments. Lucy, however, detests this
lord, notwithstanding--ay, worse than she does the deuce himself. You
must, therefore, not permit yourself to be changed or swayed by her
influence, but support me by every argument and means in your power."

"Don't fear me, sir. Your interest