“Hold your chain till a new bear-leader turned up!” said she, laughing. “Oh dear! I wonder when that wise generations of guardians will come to know that the real guide for the creatures like you is a woman. Yes, you ought to be travelling with your governess,--some one whose ladylike tone and good manners would insensibly instil quietness, reserve, and reverence in your breeding, correct your bad French, and teach you to enter or leave a room without seeming to be a housebreaker!” “I should like to know who does that?” asked he, indignantly. “Every one of you young Englishmen, whether you come fresh from Brasenose or the Mess of the Forty-something, you have all of you the same air of bashful bull-dogs!” “Oh, come, this is too bad; is this the style of Charles Heathcote, for instance?” “Most essentially it is; the only thing is that, the bulldog element predominating in his nature, he appears the less awkward in consequence.” “I should like to bear what you 'd say of the O'Shea.” “Oh, Mr. O'Shea is an Irishman, and _their_ ways bear the same relation to general good breeding that rope-dancing does to waltzing.” “I 'll take good care not to ask you for any description of myself,” said he, laughingly. “You are very wrong then, for you should have heard something excessively flattering,” was her reply. “Shall I tell you who your new protector is to be?” cried she, after a moment's pause; “I have just guessed it: the O'Shea himself!” “O'Shea! impossible; how could you imagine such a thing?” “I'm certain I'm right. He is always talking of his friend Sir George Rivers--he calls him Rivers,--who is Colonial Secretary, and who is to make him either Bishop of Barbadoes or a Gold Stick at the Gambia; and you 'll see if I 'm not correct, and that the wardship of a young scapegrace lordling is to be the retaining fee of this faithful follower of his party. Of course, there will be no question of tutorship; in fact, it would have such an unpleasant resemblance to the farce and Mr. O'Toole, as to be impossible. You will simply be travelling together. It will be double harness, but only one horse doing the work!” “I never can make out whether you 're in jest or in earnest,” said he, pettishly. “I'm always in earnest when I'm jesting; that's the only clue I can give you.” “But all this time we have been wandering away from the only thing I wanted to think of,--how to part with dear Alfred. You have told me nothing about that.” “These are things which, as the French say, always do themselves, and, consequently, it is better never to plan or provide for; and, remember, as a maxim, whenever the current is carrying you the way you want to go, put in your oar as little as possible. And as to old associations, they are like old boots: they are very pleasant wear, but they won't last forever. There now, I have given you quite enough matter to think over: and so, good-bye.”