be wanted for it.'

'Whom has he married?'

'A Miss Mendoza, an immense fortune--something in the stockbroker line.
He had spent a good deal, and wanted to repair it; but they tell me she
is a very handsome person, very ladylike and agreeable; and Lucy likes
her greatly. I am to go to luncheon at their house to-morrow, so I shall
treat you as if you were at home.'

'I should hope so,' quoth Mr. Parsons.

'Yes, or I know you would not stay here properly. I'm not alone, either.
Why, where's the boy gone? I thought he was here. I have two young
Fulmorts, one staying here, the other looking in from the office.'

'Fulmort!' exclaimed Mr. Parsons, with three notes of admiration at least
in his voice. 'What! the distiller?'

'The enemy himself, the identical lord of gin-shops--at least his
children. Did you not know that he married my next neighbour, Augusta
Mervyn, and that our properties touch? He is not so bad by way of squire
as he is here; and I have known his wife all my life, so we keep up all
habits of good neighbourhood; and though they have brought up the elder
ones very ill, they have not succeeded in spoiling this son and daughter.
She is one of the very nicest girls I ever knew, and he, poor fellow, has
a great deal of good in him.'

'I think I have heard William speak of a Fulmort,' said Mrs. Parsons.
'Was he at Winchester?'

'Yes; and an infinite help the influence there has been to him. I never
saw any one more anxious to do right, often under great disadvantages. I
shall be very glad for him to be with you. He was always intended for a
clergyman, but now I am afraid there is a notion of putting him into the
business; and he is here attending to it for the present, while his
father and brother are abroad. I am sorry he is gone. I suppose he was
seized with a fit of shyness.'

However, when all the party had been to their rooms and prepared for
dinner, Robert reappeared, and was asked where he had been.

'I went to dress,' he answered.

'Ah! where do you lodge? I asked Phoebe, but she said your letters went
to Whittington-street.'

'There are two very good rooms at the office which my father sometimes
uses.'

Phoebe and Miss Charlecote glanced at each other, aware that Mervyn would
never have condescended to sleep in Great Whittington-street. Mr.
Parsons likewise perceived a straight-forwardness in the manner, which
made him ready to acknowledge his fellow-Wykehamist and his son's