“Unchanged,” thought Endymion, as he crossed Piccadilly; “the vainest, the most envious, and the most amusing of men! I wonder what he will do in life.” Mr. Rodney was at home, had just finished his breakfast, read his newspaper, and was about to “go into the City.” His costume was perfect. Mr. Rodney’s hat seemed always a new one. Endymion was a little embarrassed by this interview, for he had naturally a kind heart, and being young, it was still soft. The Rodneys had been truly good to him, and he was attached to them. Imogene had prepared Mr. Rodney for the change in Endymion’s life, and Endymion himself had every reason to believe that in a worldly point of view the matter was entirely insignificant to his old landlord. Still his visit this morning ratified a permanent separation from those with whom he had lived for a long time, and under circumstances of sympathy and family connection which were touching. He retained Mr. Rodney’s hand for a moment as he expressed, and almost in faltering tones, his sorrow at their separation and his hope that their friendly connection might be always cherished. “That feeling is reciprocal,” said Mr. Rodney. “If only because you were the son of my revered and right honourable friend, you would always be esteemed here. But you are esteemed, or, I may say beloved, for your own sake. We shall be proud to be considered with kindness by you, and I echo your wish that, though no longer living under the same roof, we may yet, and even often, meet. But do not say another word about the inconvenience you are occasioning us. The truth is, that although wherever we went the son of my revered and right honourable friend would have always commanded hospitality from us, there are many changes about to take place in our family which have made us for some time contemplate leaving Warwick Street. Affairs, especially of late, have gone pretty well with me in the world,--at least not badly; I have had friends, and I hope have proved not undeserving of them. I wish Sylvia, too, to live in an airier situation, near the park, so that she may ride every morning. Besides, I have a piece of news to communicate to you, which would materially affect our arrangements. We are going to lose Imogene.” “Ah! she is going to be married,” said Endymion, blushing. “She is going to be married,” said Mr. Rodney gravely. “To Mr. Waldershare?” said Endymion. “He almost said as much to me in a letter this morning. But I always thought so.” “No; not to Mr. Waldershare,” said Mr. Rodney. “Who is the happy man then?” said Endymion, agitated. “I truly call him so; for I think myself that Imogene is perfection.” “Imogene is about to be married to the Earl of Beaumaris.” CHAPTER LII