"Vell, look at your master-ve'll leave out the missis, cos marriage vas 'er game, and she vun it — but look at your master — it's different with genelmen, as I said afore-but look at 'im! Ain't he a hobject of suspicion ?-ain't the old general been set on to keep a eye upon 'im?-ain't hevery move on 'im votched?"

"Is it though really?" inquired Bob.

"I know it!—I know it from our butler, vich is a good feller, and never keeps anythink from us. The werry last time the Captain dined there they vos torkin' about 'im; but they allus are torkin' about 'im; they're allus a-sayin' vot a rackety buffer he 'll be, if he ain't looked werry sharp arter. So vot's become of his independence, vith a spy upon all 'is hactions!"

"I don't at all like that," said Bob; "in my mind it ain't the ticket; and I'll just put him up to it. It's a delicate p'int; but I'll do it."

"He ought to be put up to it. It ain't by no manner o' means the thing. But don't you think he'd better a been as he vos?" "Why, you see, there's a p'int," replied Bob. loves missis, which makes all the odds."

"You see master

"Love!" rejoined Venerable Joe, sarcastically. "Love's a himposition. There's been more people imposed upon by that air vord than by all the perfessional swindlers in natur'. It's a gross, a uniwersal himposition; and it's on'y werry wonderful to me that it ain't long ago been hexpunged. A gal says she loves yer. Werry well; but are you consequentially obligated for to make a fool o' yerself? No: you 've only got her hipsy-dixy, and vot's the good o' that. Marry her; and you'll werry soon see 'ow sweet 's the love as meets return.' But arout that, look 'ear on'y jist for hinstance: a gal loves a soger-vich they all do; it's reg'lar: he's a private; still she loves 'im-oh! hout an' hout! Werry well; don't yer think she'd give 'im up for a hofficer? In course she vood! And why? Why, cos it 'ud be a better chance. Has for love, it's the vickedest, the swindlinest himposition as is. The chances is vot gals looks out for. The only question with them is, 'Is it a good chance? If it is, they 'll have it; if it ain't, they von't-onless they can't get nothink better. It's the deadest take in is that love ever heered on a deader do never vos hinwented. You take my adwice, and don't be foozled. Venever you 'ear the vord love alvays wiew it as a gross himposition. Hif yer don't you'll be done, and on'y find out the difference ven it's too late. Look at me jist for hinstance. I was sixty-two in Jannerwerry last: look at that! Sixtytwo, and I ain't done yet. I'm inwited to all the parties. I'm never forgot! There's the old uns as is single a-hoglin' on me reg'lar; and the old uns as is married a-settin' their darters upon me; it 'ud be sich a chance! and all, in course, cos I'm single. Why, d' yer think they'd care about my company perwided I vos married? Does it stand at all to reason they 'd invite me as they do hif they didn't believe I vos yet to be done? Not a bit of it! not if I vos vorth a matter o' fifty times as much as I ham. But, as it is-as I've allus escaped the himposition-there am I, never missed. allus thought on, looked up to, and respected; vhich, let me tell you, is a werry great adwantage. By the by, I'll introduce you; you must go to one of our conwersay shoneys."

"What's that?" inquired Bob.

"Vot? a conwersayshoney? A slap sort of a supper, in course. They're a-going to have another at Sir Hamilton Hideaways, vich is gone abroad ontil things comes a leetle round. He's a mean un hisself, but his servants is trumps. None but single men 's admitted. Vill you go?"

were,

Bob promised that he would; and at the same time announced that nothing could give him greater pleasure; but the arguments of the venerable gentleman-powerful and pointed though they - failed to convince him that marriage was a thing to be despised. But that which made a far deeper impression upon his mind than anything else which had transpired during the discussion of this generally interesting subject, was the fact of his having been informed that his master was subjected to a system of espionage, which was in his private judgment excessively wrong, and therefore he held it to be incumbent upon him, as a true and faithful servant, to acquaint his master with it the very first opportunity, in order that he might thenceforward be upon his guard. He felt it, of course, to be rather a nice point for him to mention; but conceiving it to be strictly a thing which ought to be known, he firmly made up his mind to impart that knowledge; and, with many expressions of high consideration, took leave of his venerable friend for the night.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Stanley's elevation in the social scale proposed.

As Sir William's game was to have recourse to everything tending to promote Stanley's absence from Amelia, he now flew to billiards, at which he had been an adept for years, and by which he knew that Stanley could not fail to be attracted. Stanley knew nothing of the game; but Sir William, in the most friendly manner of course, undertook to teach him; and the immediate result of that teaching was, that the pupil became fascinated. Night after night he was at it till daybreak. He thought of nothing, dreamt of nothing but laying out, cannoning, and pocketing the red; he was never, indeed, happy without a queue in his hand. Whether Sir William were with him or not, and he frequently was not; for, embracing the opportunity which his absence afforded, he would call for him at home, with the view of conversing with Amelia, he was every evening to be found at the table. He had continually some match on hand with the specious and highly accomplished persons whom he met, and few scoundrels are more accomplished than the higher order of billiard sharps, and who, by virtue of flattery and "tender" treatment, fleeced him of large sums of money. Still he would play. The more he lost, the more capable he felt himself of winning; and with so much ingenuity and judgment was it managed, that he not only never entertained a moment's thought of being victimised, but proposed increased stakes every game, to which they invariably, but of course with great reluctance, consented.

When this had gone on for some time, Amelia felt very unhappy, and more especially in consequence of having received an anonymous letter, which contained intimations prejudicial to Stanley's reputation as a fond and faithful husband, and of which she could not help thinking, although at the time she destroyed it with con

tempt. Still she never reproached him. Evening after evening was he absent, while she, in tears, was tortured by the thousand apprehensions with which, under the circumstances, solitude teems; but on his return she invariably flew to him, and blessed him, and welcomed him home with a smile of joy. No tear was ever visible then; no word which could indicate doubt was ever breathed. If he offered to apologise, she would stop him with a kiss, while her eyes beamed with confidence and love.

Weeks passed, and Bob had not had what he deemed a fair opportunity of imparting to Stanley the information he had obtained touching the watch that had been set upon his actions. At length, however, an excellent one offered, and he embraced it. They were returning from a shooting-match at the time, and he certainly did think, as he sat in the cab, that his master, who had spoken to him familiarly several times on the road, was in the true state of mind to entertain a grateful sense of his kindness.

"I beg pardon, sir," said he, after calling up all the moral courage he had in him. “I beg pardon—I hope you won't think it a liberty; but I've got something, sir, on my sentiments which I think it my duty to let you know on."

"Well, Bob," said Stanley, "what is it?"

66

Why, sir, it's-I know it's a delicate p'int, and one which, possible, I don't ought to name; but I think it a duty as I owe-" "Out with it!" cried Stanley. "Let's have it at once." "Well, sir; you see General Johnson — which is a genelman ;but I hope you won't name it again, 'cause I'm bound as a matter of honour."

"Well! and what of General Johnson ? "

"Why, sir,-it's only that you may be awares I only do it to put you on your guard."

"Put me on my guard! What do you mean?

"

Why, sir, as I hear from the servants which told me, that General Johnson and the Captain is spies upon all you do."

Stanley looked at him fiercely, and in an instant Bob saw that he had made a mistake.

"How dare you," cried Stanley, "name a subject of this kind to me?"

"I beg pardon, sir, I hope you won't—”

"Silence, sir! Never let me hear another syllable upon this or upon any other subject, in which you are not concerned, pass your lips."

Bob shrank instinctively into the most remote corner of the cab, and scarcely breathed; but of all the base and glaring acts of ingratitude he had ever heard, or read of in history either ancient or modern, he held this to be, beyond all dispute, the most glaring, and the most base.

"What!" thought he, privately, and in the strictest possible confidence, for he felt that any public expression of his sentiments would be, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, inexpedient, -"What! Is it a dream, or is it a boney-fide wide-awake fact that a master can be found on the face of the blessed earth to behave so reg'lar ongrateful? Warn't it all for his own good? Was it anything to me? Didn't I name it for his own blessed self? And, does he think, does he hope, does he expect that I'll ever, while

VOL. VIII.

2 F