nt from those mocking lips. Yet,
in spite of all this, John Lord Lilburne was not only esteemed but liked
by the world, and set up in the chair of its Rhadamanthuses. In a word,
he seemed to Vaudemont, and he was so in reality, a brilliant example of
the might of Circumstance--an instance of what may be done in the way
of reputation and influence by a rich, well-born man to whom the will
a kingdom is. A little of genius, and Lord Lilburne would have made his
vices notorious and his deficiencies glaring; a little of heart, and
his habits would have led him into countless follies and discreditable
scrapes. It was the lead and the stone that he carried about him that
preserved his equilibrium, no matter which way the breeze blew. But
all his qualities, positive or negative, would have availed him nothing
without that position which enabled him to take his ease in that inn,
the world--which presented, to every detection of his want of intrinsic
nobleness, the irreproachable respectability of a high name, a splendid
mansion, and a rent-roll without a flaw. Vaudemont drew comparisons
between Lilburne and Gawtrey, and he comprehended at last, why one was a
low rascal and the other a great man.

Although it was but a few days after their first introduction to
each other, Vaudemont had been twice to Lord Lilburne's, and their
acquaintance was already on an easy footing--when one afternoon as the
former was riding through the streets towards H----, he met the peer
mounted on a stout cob, which, from its symmetrical strength, pure
English breed, and exquisite grooming, showed something of those
sporting tastes for which, in earlier life, Lord Lilburne had been
noted.

"Why, Monsieur de Vaudemont, what brings you to this part of the
town?--curiosity and the desire to explore?"

"That might be natural enough in me; but you, who know London so well;
rather what brings you here?"

"Why I am returned from a long ride. I have had symptoms of a fit of
the gout, and been trying to keep it off by exercise. I have been to
a cottage that belongs to me, some miles from the town--a pretty place
enough, by the way--you must come and see me there next month. I shall
fill the house for a battue! I have some tolerable covers--you are a
good shot, I suppose?"

"I have not practised, except with a rifle, for some years."

"That's a pity; for as I think a week's shooting once a year quite
enough, I fear that your visit to me at Fernside may no