Mr. Tuckham dined with them frequently in London. This gentleman betrayed his accomplishments one by one. He sketched, and was no artist; he planted, and was no gardener; he touched the piano neatly, and was no musician; he sang, and he had no voice. Apparently he tried his hand at anything, for the privilege of speaking decisively upon all things. He accompanied the colonel and his daughter on a day’s expedition to Mrs. Beauchamp, on the Upper Thames, and they agreed that he shone to great advantage in her society. Mrs. Beauchamp said she had seen her great-nephew Nevil, but without a comment on his conduct or his person; grave silence. Reflecting on it, Cecilia grew indignant at the thought that Mr. Tuckham might have been acting a sinister part. Mrs. Beauchamp alluded to a newspaper article of her favourite great-nephew Blackburn, written, Cecilia knew through her father, to controvert some tremendous proposition of Nevil’s. _That_ was writing, Mrs. Beauchamp said. “I am not in the habit of fearing a conflict, so long as we have stout defenders. I rather like it,” she said. The colonel entertained Mrs. Beauchamp, while Mr. Tuckham led Miss Halkett over the garden. Cecilia considered that his remarks upon Nevil were insolent. “Seriously, Miss Halkett, to take him at his best, he is a very good fellow, I don’t doubt; I am told so; and a capital fellow among men, a good friend and not a bad boon-fellow, and for that matter, the smoking-room is a better test than the drawing-room; all he wants is emphatically school—school—school. I have recommended the simple iteration of that one word in answer to him at his meetings, and the printing of it as a foot-note to his letters.” Cecilia’s combative spirit precipitated her to say, “I hear the mob in it shouting Captain Beauchamp down.” “Ay,” said Mr. Tuckham, “it would be setting the mob to shout wisely at last.” “The mob is a wild beast.” “Then we should hear wisdom coming out of the mouth of the wild beast.” “Men have the phrase, ‘fair play.’” “Fair play, I say, is not applicable to a man who deliberately goes about to stir the wild beast. He is laughed at, plucked, hustled, and robbed, by those who deafen him with their ‘plaudits’—their roars. Did you see his advertisement of a great-coat, lost at some rapscallion gathering down in the North, near my part of the country? A great-coat and a packet of letters. He offers a reward of L10. But that’s honest robbery compared with the bleeding he’ll get.” “Do you know Mr. Seymour Austin?” Miss Halkett asked him. “I met him once at your father’s table. Why?” “I think you would like to listen to him.” “Yes, my fault is not listening enough,” said Mr. Tuckham. He was capable of receiving correction.