men who seemed giants by his side; and his gestures had the ease of one accustomed to an active life. He had, indeed, been celebrated in his youth for his skill in athletic exercises, but a wound, received in a duel many years ago, had rendered him lame for life--a misfortune which interfered with his former habits, and was said to have soured his temper. This personage, whose position and character will be described hereafter, was Lord Lilburne, the brother of Mrs. Beaufort. "So, Camilla," said Lord Lilburne to his niece, as carelessly, not fondly, he stroked down her glossy ringlets, "you don't like Berkeley Square as you did Gloucester Place." "Oh, no! not half so much! You see I never walk out in the fields, --[Now the Regent's Park.]--nor make daisy-chains at Primrose Hill. I don't know what mamma means," added the child, in a whisper, "in saying we are better off here." Lord Lilburne smiled, but the smile was a half sneer. "You will know quite soon enough, Camilla; the understandings of young ladies grow up very quickly on this side of Oxford Street. Well, Arthur, and what are your plans to-day?" "Why," said Arthur, suppressing a yawn, "I have promised to ride out with a friend of mine, to see a horse that is for sale somewhere in the suburbs." As he spoke, Arthur rose, stretched himself, looked in the glass, and then glanced impatiently at the window. "He ought to be here by this time." "He! who?" said Lord Lilburne, "the horse or the other animal--I mean the friend?" "The friend," answered Arthur, smiling, but colouring while he smiled, for he half suspected the quiet sneer of his uncle. "Who is your friend, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Beaufort, looking up from her work. "Watson, an Oxford man. By the by, I must introduce him to you." "Watson! what Watson? what family of Watson? Some Watsons are good and some are bad," said Mrs. Beaufort, musingly. "Then they are very unlike the rest of mankind," observed Lord Lilburne, drily. "Oh! my Watson is a very gentlemanlike person, I assure you," said Arthur, half-laughing, "and you need not be ashamed of him." Then, rather desirous of turning the conversation, he continued, "So my father will be back from Beaufort Court to-day?" "Yes; he writes in excellent spirits. He says the rents will bear raising at least ten per cent., and that the house will not require much repair." Here Arthur threw open the window. "Ah, Watson! how are you? How d'ye do, Marsden? Danvers, too! that's capital! the more the merrier! I will be down in an instant. But would you not rather come in?" "An agreeable inundation," murmured Lord Lilburne. "Three at a time: he takes your house for Trinity College."