confounded prosperity.

"Here's a good end to it," says Clive, with flashing eyes and a flushed
face, "and here's a good health till to-morrow, father!" and he filled
into two glasses the wine still remaining in the flask. "Good-bye to
our fortune, and bad luck go with her--I puff the prostitute away--Si
celeres quatit pennas, you remember what we used to say at Grey
Friars--resign quae dedit, et mea virtute me involve, probamque
pauperiem sine dote quaero." And he pledged his father, who drank his
wine, his hand shaking as he raised the glass to his lips, and his kind
voice trembling as he uttered the well-known old school words, with an
emotion that was as sacred as a prayer. Once more, and with hearts full
of love, the two men embraced. Clive's voice would tremble now if he
told the story, as it did when he spoke it to me in happier times, one
calm summer evening when we sat together and talked of dear old days.

Thomas Newcome explained to his son the plan, which, to his mind, as he
came away from the City after the day's misfortunes, he thought it was
best to pursue. The women and the child were clearly best out of the
way. "And you too, my boy, must be on duty with them until I send for
you, which I will do if your presence can be of the least service to me,
or is called for by--by--our honour," said the old man with a drop in
his voice. "You must obey me in this, dear Clive, as you have done in
everything, and been a good and dear, and obedient son to me. God pardon
me for having trusted to my own simple old brains too much, and not
to you who know so much better. You will obey me this once more, my
boy--you will promise me this?" and the old man as he spoke took Clive's
hand in both his, and fondly caressed it.

Then with a shaking hand he took out of his pocket his old purse with
the steel rings, which he had worn for many and many a long year. Clive
remembered it, and his father's face how it would beam with delight,
when he used to take that very purse out in Clive's boyish days and tip
him just after he left school. "Here are some notes and some gold," he
said. "It is Rosey's, honestly, Clive dear, her half-year's dividend,
for which you will give an order, please, to Sherrick. He has been very
kind and good, Sherrick. All the servants were providentially paid last
week--there are only the outstanding week's bills out--we shall manage
to meet those, I dare say. And you will see that Rosey only takes away
s