no great respect for it in consequence; but I know how to manageit, and that's what I want you to do. You will have many opportunitiesin London; I must beg that you will not throw them away. You may be thepossessor of a large fortune, and yet unless you know how to manage it,it may be of little use to you. Many a man, with three or four thousanda year, does more than others with thirty or forty thousand. I wouldhave you also, Harry, pay every attention to the wishes of yourguardian, Mr. Kyffin. He is a very respectable man, and will probablysave money, and as far as I can learn, as he has no other relations ofhis own, he will undoubtedly leave it to you. Thus I hope that you maybe very well off. Still both Mr. Kyffin and I may live for a good manyyears. When he last called for you in London I examined hiscountenance, and considered him a remarkably hale and healthy man, whileI myself feel as well as I ever did in my life. However, I don't wishto think of the time when you will come into my property."
Harry, of course, begged that the old lady would not think of such anevent, and declared himself ready to enter some profession, by which hemight make himself independent of the expected fortunes of his friends.He thought that he might like the law. Life in London and in dustychambers was not exactly what he had been accustomed to, but still,where an important object was to be gained, he was ready to submit toanything. Lady Tryon laughed at the notion. He might certainly eat hisdinners at the Inns of Court and live in dusty chambers, but as tomaking anything by so doing, the idea was preposterous. A young fellowlike him, of good family and presentable appearance, must marry anheiress. He was fit for that, and nothing else.
Harry saw that there was no use discussing the matter with hisgrandmother. He resolved, however, to talk it over with his guardian assoon as they met. He saw that the old lady had some project in herhead, which she had resolved to keep secret from him. It must beconfessed, he was very glad when her ladyship rang for Betsy Frizzle,and retired to her room. They arrived next day late in the evening atLady Tryon's house, in the middle of ---Street.
Harry set off the next day to visit Mr. Roger Kyffin, of Hampstead. Hefound that the coach ran twice in the day to that far-distant suburb.It was a pleasant drive, among green fields, here and there a smilingvilla, but otherwise with few buildings. Mr. Kyffin had not come backfrom the city when Harry arrived, but his careful housekeeper receivedhim with every attention, and insisted on his partaking of some of herpreserves and home-made wine, just to give him an appetite for supper,as of course her master always dined in London.
At last Mr. Kyffin arrived. He was much pleased with Harry'sappearance. They spent a very pleasant evening. Harry could not helpcontrasting the conversation of his guardian with that of hisgrandmother--the man of business, so unworldly, and with a heart so fullof warm affection, anxious for the welfare of his fellow-creatures,while the old lady with one foot in the grave was truly of the earth--earthy. Harry did not exactly say as much as this to himself, but hefelt it, notwithstanding. Roger Kyffin was very much pleased to hear ofHarry's wish to enter a profession. "I would not have you decide in ahurry," he said, "and you must consider for what you are best fitted.You know that I, as far as I have the power, will help you to theutmost--on that you may depend. Further than that, Harry, I don't wishto bias you." Harry slept at Mr. Kyffin's, a pretty little cottage, andaccompanied him the next day back to London. He found that the morningshung somewhat heavily on his hands; the evenings, too, were not spent ina way particularly agreeable to him, as Lady Tryon insisted on hisaccompanying her to the routs and other parties she frequented. He hada dislike to cards, and could never learn to play, so she had notinsisted on his joining her, but she spent the whole of the evening atthe card-table. He saw, however, from the piles of gold placed beforeher that she was playing high; how high he could not tell; but veryoften she returned home in an unusually bad humour, when he found itsafer to keep silence than to attempt any conversation with her.
At this time, ladies of fashion, as well as gentlemen, were fearfullyaddicted to the vice of gambling. The law was doing its utmost to putdown public hells, but it was unable in general to stop the practice inprivate houses, in consequence of the difficulty of obtaining evidence.
One evening Lady Tryon had been at the house of the Countess ofBuckinghamshire, to which Harry had, very unwillingly, been compelled toaccompany her. As usual, gambling went on, a gentleman of fashionkeeping the faro-table. Harry saw by the expression of hisgrandmother's countenance that she was a heavy loser. The more shelost, the higher stakes she seemed inclined to play for.
"Let the old lady have her way," he heard a gentleman near whom he wasstanding observe, "a little bleeding will do her no harm."
The Countess's handsome rooms were full of people of rank and fashion.Tables were scattered about on each side with eager players, someengaged in cards, others casting the dice, while others stood roundstaking considerable sums on the turn of a card or throw of the ivory.All of them seemed brought together by one absorbing passion, which theyshared with the stockbrokers of Change Alley and the frequenters of thelowest hells. A few like Harry might have been compelled to go thereagainst their will--young daughters to attend their mothers, who wereleading them into vice, and a few like Harry who had no money to stake.As he looked at the group of excited beings with sparkling eyes, therouge cheeks of the ladies, with here and there a black patch to hide ablemish, or to set off the fairness of their skins; the haggard faces ofthe men, with their perukes pushed on one side, their lips puckered,pressed close together, many of them holding the cards with tremblingknees, evidently with one foot in the grave, Harry could not help hopingthat he might never become like one of them, and he longed once more tobe back at Stanmore in the company of Mabel. He thought, too, of herdying cousin, for the last account which had been received gave no hopesof her recovery, and every day he expected to hear that she was no more.He was thankful when at length he received Lady Tryon's commands toorder her coach. She was in a worse humour even than usual.
"Fortune won't desert me," she said at length, as they were nearinghome; "there's another chance; I intend to purchase some lotterytickets: they can bring me through, though nothing else can, unless,Harry, when you marry the little heiress you take care of your oldgrand-dame; you owe her something for bringing you up as a gentleman,for if I had not taken you up you would have been even now a merchant'sclerk in the city! Faugh! that such should be the fate of a grandson ofGeneral Tryon."
Harry did not venture to remark that her ladyship's brother was amerchant, and probably had been a merchant's clerk in his younger days;however, he thought as much.
CHAPTER NINE.
PLAYED OUT.--THE LAST THROW.
Lady Tryon had descended to her drawing-room, to which Harry had beensummoned to receive her commands. He felt greatly disposed toemancipate himself from his thraldom. "Better a crust of bread and acup of cold water than this sort of work," he thought; "yet mygrandmother has brought me up, she is the only relative to whom I oweobedience; perhaps something will turn up to free me."
He thought this as he came up from his room. The post arrived at thesame moment. A letter was delivered to him. It was from Mabel,announcing her cousin's death. She called him her dear Harry, andconcluded with "ever the same." Had he been alone he would have pressedthe letter to his lips; as it was, he merely repeated the more importantpart of its contents to his grandmother. Utterly worldly, and devoid ofany higher feeling, the old lady received the news in a heartless way.She scarcely uttered an expression of regret; indeed, Harry could nothelp seeing that she was highly pleased.
"You must marry the heiress," she said; "you must praise her to Mr.Kyffin, and I will back you up, and we will see what he can do for you."
She suddenly seemed to think Harry appeared doubtful as to what heshould do.
"I tell you, boy, I'll cut you off to a shilling," she said, getting upand laying her hand on his arm. "You will be a beggar, and a wretchedbeggar, if you don't follow my advice. I will not say mor
e; I have saidenough; but remember."
"Yes, your ladyship has said enough," answered Harry. "I love Mabel toowell to have her for the sake of her fortune, and I have no wish to seeher father die that I may become its possessor."
"Nonsense, boy!" exclaimed the old lady, in a harsh, shrill voice."You're a fool, Harry."
The unpleasant conversation was interrupted by a servant entering, andannouncing a visitor.
"Mr. Flockton, who is he?" asked Harry, as he looked at the card.
"I know him; I am glad he has come," said Lady Tryon; "it will save me along drive into the city."
As she spoke, a middle-aged gentleman in fashionable costume entered theroom. He was a somewhat short man, broadly built, with regularfeatures, and