with Lady Maria, who was over
forty. He was wealthy and, thanks to Gumbo, his servant, the extent of
his estate had been greatly magnified by that cheerfullest of negroes.
The Castlewoods professed themselves indifferent to the love-making that
seemed to be going on between Harry and Maria, but Madam Bernstein was
indignant.

"Do you remember," she cried, with energy, "who the poor boy is, and
what your house owes to its family? His grandfather gave up this estate,
this title, this very castle, that you and yours might profit by it. And
the reward for all this is that you talk of marrying him to a silly
elderly creature, who might be his mother. He _shan't_ marry her."

So Madam Bernstein, having tired of Castlewood, decided that Maria must
accompany her to Tunbridge Wells and Harry was invited to act as escort,
and to stay a day or two at the Wells. At the end of the first day's
travel, when they had just reached Farnham, poor Maria was ill, and her
cheeks were yellow when she retired for the night.

"That absurd Maria!" says Madam Bernstein, playing piquet with Harry.
"She never had a good constitution. I hope she intends to be well
to-morrow morning. She was forty-one years old. All her upper teeth are
false, and she can't eat with them. How clumsily you deal, child!"

The next morning Lady Maria's indisposition was over, but Harry was
wretched. Then in the evening the horse Harry was riding, in the matter
of which he had been cheated by his cousin Will, at Castlewood, came
down on his knees and sent the rider over his head. Mr. Harry was picked
up insensible and carried home into a house called Oakhurst that stood
hard by the road.

_II.--Samaritans_

That Mr. Warrington is still alive can be proved by the following
letter, sent from the lady into whose house he was taken after his fall
from Mr. Will's broken-kneed horse, to Mrs. Esmond Warrington. "If Mrs.
Esmond Warrington of Virginia can call to mind twenty-three years ago,
she may perhaps remember Miss Molly Benson, her classmate, at Kensington
boarding school. Yesterday evening, as we were at tea there came a great
ringing at our gate, and the servants, running out returned with the
news that a young gentleman was lying lifeless on the road. At this, my
dear husband, Colonel Lambert (who is sure the most Samaritan of men)
hastens away, and presently, with the aid of the servants, and followed
by two ladies,--one of whom is your cousin, Lady Maria Esm