in persons,
standing very high in the world, did not think certain parties were
perfect without him. He knew how to talk enough, and yet not to talk
too much. No one could say of him that he was witty, well-read, or
given to much thinking; but he knew just what was wanted at this
point of time or at that, and could give it. He could put himself
forward, and could keep himself in the background. He could shoot
well without wanting to shoot best. He could fetch and carry, but
still do it always with an air of manly independence. He could
subserve without an air of cringing. And then he looked like a
gentleman.

Of all his well-to-do friends, perhaps he who really liked him best
was the Earl of Altringham. George Hotspur was at this time something
under thirty years of age, and the Earl was four years his senior.
The Earl was a married man, with a family, a wife who also liked poor
George, an enormous income, and a place in Scotland at which George
always spent the three first weeks of grouse-shooting. The Earl was
a kindly, good-humoured, liberal, but yet hard man of the world.
He knew George Hotspur well, and would on no account lend him a
shilling. He would not have given his friend money to extricate him
from any difficulty. But he forgave the sinner all his sins, opened
Castle Corry to him every year, provided him with the best of
everything, and let him come and dine at Altringham House, in Carlton
Gardens, as often almost as he chose during the London season. The
Earl was very good to George, though he knew more about him than
perhaps did any other man; but he would not bet with George, nor
would he in any way allow George to make money out of him.

"Do you suppose that I want to win money of you?" he once said to our
friend, in answer to a little proposition that was made to him at
Newmarket. "I don't suppose you do," George had answered. "Then you
may be sure that I don't want to lose any," the Earl had replied. And
so the matter was ended, and George made no more propositions of the
kind.

The two men were together at Tattersall's, looking at some horses
which the Earl had sent up to be sold the day after the dinner in
Bruton Street. "Sir Harry seems to be taking to you very kindly,"
said the Earl.

"Well,--yes; in a half-and-half sort of way."

"It isn't everybody that would give you L5,000, you know."

"I am not everybody's heir," said George.

"No; and you ain't his,--worse luck."

"I am,--in regar