l you should be with
him a good deal now. You'd wish to be a comfort to your uncle in his
last days. I know that, Mr. George. He's been good to you; and you've
your duty to do by him now, Mr. George; and you'll do it." So said
Mr. Pritchett, having thoroughly argued the matter in his own mind,
and resolved, that as Mr. George was a wilful young horse, who would
not be driven in one kind of bridle, another must be tried with him.

"But has my uncle sent to say that he wants to see me again at once?"

"He has, Mr. George; sent to say that he wants to see you again at
once, particular."

There was nothing of course for Mr. George to do but to obey, seeing
that the order was so particular. On that same evening, therefore, he
put his dressing-things into a bag, and again went down to Hadley.

On his first arrival his uncle shook hands with him with much more
than ordinary kindness, and even joked with him.

"So Pritchett came to you, did he? and sent you down at a moment's
notice? ha! ha! He's a solemn old prig, is Pritchett; but a good
servant; a very good servant. When I am gone, he'll have enough to
live on; but he'll want some one to say a word to him now and again.
Don't forget what I say about him. It's not so easy to find a good
servant."

George declared that he always had had, and would have, a regard for
Mr. Pritchett; "though I wish he were not quite so sad."

"Poor Pritchett! well; yes, he is sad," said the uncle, laughing; and
then George went upstairs to get ready for dinner.

The dinner, considering the house in which it was spread, was
quite _recherche_. George said to himself that the fat fowls which
he saw must have come from Harcourt's larder. Roast mutton and
boiled beef--not together, but one on one day and the other on
the next--generally constituted the fare at Mr. Bertram's house
when he did not sit down to dinner alone. But now there was quite
a little banquet. During dinner, he made sundry efforts to be
agreeable; pressed his nephew to eat, and drank wine with him in
the old-fashioned affectionate manner of past days. "Your health,
George," he said. "You'll find that sherry good, I think. It ought to
be, if years can make it so."

It was good; and George was very sorry to find that the good wine had
been brought out for him. He felt that something would be required in
return, and that he could not give that something.

After dinner that something was soon asked for. "George," said the
o