duty to warn my Lord Mohun,
and let him know that his designs were suspected and watched. So one day,
when in rather a pettish humour, his lordship had sent to Lady Castlewood,
who had promised to drive with him, and now refused to come, Harry
said--"My lord, if you will kindly give me a place by your side I will
thank you; I have much to say to you, and would like to speak to you
alone."

"You honour me by giving me your confidence, Mr. Henry Esmond," says the
other, with a very grand bow. My lord was always a fine gentleman, and
young as he was there was that in Esmond's manner which showed that he was
a gentleman too, and that none might take a liberty with him--so the pair
went out, and mounted the little carriage which was in waiting for them in
the court, with its two little cream-coloured Hanoverian horses covered
with splendid furniture and champing at the bit.

"My lord," says Harry Esmond, after they were got into the country, and
pointing to my Lord Mohun's foot, which was swathed in flannel, and put up
rather ostentatiously on a cushion--"my lord, I studied medicine at
Cambridge."

"Indeed, Parson Harry," says he: "and are you going to take out a diploma:
and cure your fellow student of the----"

"Of the gout," says Harry, interrupting him, and looking him hard in the
face; "I know a good deal about the gout."

"I hope you may never have it. 'Tis an infernal disease," says my lord,
"and its twinges are diabolical. Ah!" and he made a dreadful wry face, as
if he just felt a twinge.

"Your lordship would be much better if you took off all that flannel--it
only serves to inflame the toe," Harry continued, looking his man full in
the face.

"Oh! it only serves to inflame the toe, does it?" says the other, with an
innocent air.

"If you took off that flannel, and flung that absurd slipper away, and
wore a boot," continues Harry.

"You recommend me boots, Mr. Esmond?" asks my lord.

"Yes, boots and spurs. I saw your lordship three days ago run down the
gallery fast enough," Harry goes on. "I am sure that taking gruel at night
is not so pleasant as claret to your lordship; and besides it keeps your
lordship's head cool for play, whilst my patron's is hot and flustered
with drink."

"'Sdeath, sir, you dare not say that I don't play fair?" cries my lord,
whipping his horses, which went away at a gallop.

"You are cool when my lord is drunk," Harry continued; "your lordship gets
the better of my patron