h a Lancashire
twang--he'd no more do for Mayfair than Grimaldi for Macbeth. He and
Honeyman used to fight like cat and dog in the vestry: and he drove away
a third part of the congregation. He was an honest man and an able man
too, though not a sound Churchman" (F. B. said this with a very edifying
gravity): "I told Sherrick this the very day I heard him. And if he had
spoken to me on the subject I might have saved him a pretty penny--a
precious deal more than the paltry sum which he and I had a quarrel
about at that time--a matter of business, sir--a pecuniary difference
about a small three months' thing which caused a temporary estrangement
between us. As for Honeyman, he used to cry about it. Your uncle is
great in the lachrymatory line, Clive Newcome. He used to go with tears
in his eyes to Sherrick, and implore him not to have Rawkins, but
he would. And I must say for poor Charles that the failure of Lady
Whittlesea's has not been altogether Charles's fault; and that Sherrick
has kicked down that property.

"Well, then, sir, poor Charles thought to make it all right by marrying
Mrs. Brumby;--and she was very fond of him and the thing was all but
done, in spite of her sons, who were in a rage as you may fancy. But
Charley, sir, has such a propensity for humbug that he will tell lies
when there is no earthly good in lying. He represented his chapel at
twelve hundred a year, his private means as so-and-so; and when he came
to book up with Briggs the lawyer, Mrs. Brumby's brother, it was found
that he lied and prevaricated so, that the widow in actual disgust would
have nothing more to do with him. She was a good woman of business,
and managed the hat-shop for nine years, whilst poor Brumby was at Dr.
Tokelys. A first-rate shop it was, too. I introduced Charles to it. My
uncle the Bishop had his shovels there: and they used for a considerable
period to cover this humble roof with tiles," said F. B., tapping his
capacious forehead; "I am sure he might have had Brumby," he added,
in his melancholy tones, "but for those unlucky lies. She didn't want
money. She had plenty. She longed to get into society, and was bent on
marrying a gentleman.

"But what I can't pardon in Honeyman is the way in which he has done
poor old Ridley and his wife. I took him there, you know, thinking
they would send their bills in once a month: that he was doing a good
business: in fact, that I had put 'em into a good thing. And the fellow
has