t's to say,
I told him to cough. The women like a consumptive parson, sir. Come,
gals!"

Clive went to his uncle's lodgings, and was received by Mr. and Mrs.
Ridley with great glee and kindness. Both of those good people had made
it a point to pay their duty to Mr. Clive immediately on his return
to England, and thank him over and over again for his kindness to John
James. Never, never would they forget his goodness, and the Colonel's,
they were sure. A cake, a heap of biscuits, a pyramid of jams, six
frizzling mutton-chops, and four kinds of hot wine, came bustling up
to Mr. Honeyman's room twenty minutes after Clive had entered it,--as a
token of the Ridleys' affection for him.

Clive remarked, with a smile, the Pall Mall Gazette upon a side-table,
and in the chimney-glass almost as many cards as in the time of
Honeyman's early prosperity. That he and his uncle should be very
intimate together, was impossible, from the nature of the two men; Clive
being frank, clear-sighted, and imperious; Charles, timid, vain, and
double-faced, conscious that he was a humbug, and that most people found
him out, so that he would quiver and turn away, and be more afraid of
young Clive and his direct straightforward way, than of many older men.
Then there was the sense of the money transactions between him and the
Colonel, which made Charles Honeyman doubly uneasy. In fine, they did
not like each other; but, as he is a connection of the most respectable
Newcome family, surely he is entitled to a page or two in these their
memoirs.

Thursday came, and with it Mr. Sherrick's entertainment, to which also
Mr. Binnie and his party had been invited to meet Colonel Newcome's son.
Uncle James and Rosey brought Clive in their carriage; Mrs. Mackenzie
sent a headache as an apology. She chose to treat Uncle James's landlord
with a great deal of hauteur, and to be angry with her brother for
visiting such a person. "In fact, you see how fond I must be of dear
little Rosey, Clive, that I put up with all mamma's tantrums for her
sake," remarks Mr. Binnie.

"Oh, uncle!" says little Rosey, and the old gentleman stopped her
remonstrances with a kiss.

"Yes," says he, "your mother does have tantrums, miss; and though you
never complain, there's no reason why I shouldn't. You will not tell
on me" (it was "Oh, uncle!" again); "and Clive won't, I am sure.--This
little thing, sir," James went on, holding Rosey's pretty little hand
and looking fondly in