it
was very easy to execute it.

Maltravers was now warmly attached to his new friend, and eager for
change. Cleveland was sorry to part with him; but he dreaded a relapse,
if the young man were again left upon his hands. Accordingly, the
guardian's consent was obtained; a travelling carriage was bought, and
fitted up with every imaginable imperial and _malle_. A Swiss (half
valet and half courier) was engaged, one thousand a year was allowed
to Maltravers;--and one soft and lovely morning, towards the close of
October, Ferrers and Maltravers found themselves midway on the road to
Dover.

"How glad I am to get out of England," said Ferrers: "it is a famous
country for the rich; but here, eight hundred a year, without a
profession, save that of pleasure, goes upon pepper and salt; it is a
luxurious competence abroad."

"I think I have heard Cleveland say that you will be rich some day or
other."

"O yes: I have what are called expectations! You must know that I have
a kind of settlement on two stools, the Well-born and the Wealthy;
but between two stools--you recollect the proverb! The present Lord
Saxingham, once plain Frank Lascelles, and my father, Mr. Ferrers, were
first cousins. Two or three relations good-naturedly died, and Frank
Lascelles became an earl; the lands did not go with the coronet; he was
poor, and married an heiress. The lady died; her estate was settled
on her only child, the handsomest little girl you ever saw. Pretty
Florence, I often wish I could look up to you! Her fortune will be
nearly all at her own disposal, too, when she comes of age; now she is
in the nursery, 'eating bread and honey.' My father, less lucky and less
wise than his cousin, thought fit to marry a Miss Templeton--a nobody.
The Saxingham branch of the family politely dropped the acquaintance.
Now, my mother had a brother, a clever, plodding fellow, in what is
called 'business:' he became richer and richer: but my father and mother
died, and were never the better for it. And I came of age, and
_worth_ (I like that expression) not a farthing more or less than this
often-quoted eight hundred pounds a year. My rich uncle is married, but
has no children. I am, therefore, heir-presumptive,--but he is a saint,
and close, though ostentatious. The quarrel between Uncle Templeton
and the Saxinghams still continues. Templeton is angry if I see the
Saxinghams and the Saxinghams--my Lord, at least--is by no means so sure
that I shall b