e two young ladies in Cumberland. Pesca,
inspired by our national grog, which appeared to get into his head, in
the most marvellous manner, five minutes after it had gone down his
throat, asserted his claims to be considered a complete Englishman by
making a series of speeches in rapid succession, proposing my mother's
health, my sister's health, my health, and the healths, in mass, of Mr.
Fairlie and the two young Misses, pathetically returning thanks
himself, immediately afterwards, for the whole party. "A secret,
Walter," said my little friend confidentially, as we walked home
together. "I am flushed by the recollection of my own eloquence. My
soul bursts itself with ambition. One of these days I go into your
noble Parliament. It is the dream of my whole life to be Honourable
Pesca, M.P.!"

The next morning I sent my testimonials to the Professor's employer in
Portland Place. Three days passed, and I concluded, with secret
satisfaction, that my papers had not been found sufficiently explicit.
On the fourth day, however, an answer came. It announced that Mr.
Fairlie accepted my services, and requested me to start for Cumberland
immediately. All the necessary instructions for my journey were
carefully and clearly added in a postscript.

I made my arrangements, unwillingly enough, for leaving London early
the next day. Towards evening Pesca looked in, on his way to a
dinner-party, to bid me good-bye.

"I shall dry my tears in your absence," said the Professor gaily, "with
this glorious thought. It is my auspicious hand that has given the
first push to your fortune in the world. Go, my friend! When your sun
shines in Cumberland (English proverb), in the name of heaven make your
hay. Marry one of the two young Misses; become Honourable Hartright,
M.P.; and when you are on the top of the ladder remember that Pesca, at
the bottom, has done it all!"

I tried to laugh with my little friend over his parting jest, but my
spirits were not to be commanded. Something jarred in me almost
painfully while he was speaking his light farewell words.

When I was left alone again nothing remained to be done but to walk to
the Hampstead cottage and bid my mother and Sarah good-bye.

IV

The heat had been painfully oppressive all day, and it was now a close
and sultry night.

My mother and sister had spoken so many last words, and had begged me
to wait another five minutes so many times, that it was nearly midnigh