Clifford coloured for a moment, but replied with a quiet archness of look, “Family! oh, my dear sir, I come from an old family,--a very old family indeed.” “So I always thought; and in what part of the world?” “Scotland, sir,--all our family come from Scotland; namely, all who live long do,--the rest die young.” “Ay, particular air does agree with particular constitutions. I, for instance, could not live in all countries; not--you take me--in the North!” “Few honest men can live there,” said Clifford, dryly. “And,” resumed the squire, a little embarrassed by the nature of his task, and the cool assurance of his young friend,--“and pray, Captain Clifford, what regiment do you belong to?” “Regiment?--oh, the Rifles!” answered Clifford. (“Deuce is in me,” muttered he, “if I can resist a jest, though I break my neck over it.”) “A very gallant body of men,” said the squire. “No doubt of that, sir!” rejoined Clifford. “And do you think, Captain Clifford,” renewed the squire, “that it is a good corps for getting on?” “It is rather a bad one for getting off,” muttered the Captain; and then aloud, “Why, we have not much interest at court, sir.” “Oh! but then there is a wider scope, as my brother the lawyer says--and no man knows better--for merit. I dare say you have seen many a man elevated from the ranks?” “Nothing more common, sir, than such elevation; and so great is the virtue of our corps, that I have also known not a few willing to transfer the honour to their comrades.” “You don't say so!” exclaimed the squire, opening his eyes at such disinterested magnanimity. “But,” said Clifford, who began to believe he might carry the equivoke too far, and who thought, despite of his jesting, that it was possible to strike out a more agreeable vein of conversation--“but, sir, if you remember, you have not yet finished that youthful hunting adventure of yours, when the hounds were lost at Burnham Copse.” “Oh, very true,” cried the squire, quite forgetting his late suspicions; and forthwith he began a story that promised to be as long as the chase it recorded. So charmed was he, when he had finished it, with the character of the gentleman who had listened to it so delightedly, that on rejoining Mauleverer, he told the earl, with an important air, that he had strictly examined the young captain, and that he had fully convinced himself of the excellence of his family, as well as the rectitude of his morals. Mauleverer listened with a countenance of polite incredulity; he had heard but little of the conversation that had taken place between the pair; but on questioning the squire upon sundry particulars of Clifford's birth, parentage, and property, he found him exactly as ignorant as before. The courtier, however, seeing further expostulation was in vain, contented himself with patting the squire's shoulder, and saying, with a mysterious urbanity, “Ah, sir, you are too good!”