Very briefly did Mr. John Martindale inform his cousin of the discovery which he had recently made; and requesting, or rather commanding the young gentleman to enter the carriage, they proceeded westward, towards Mr. Martindale’s hotel. In the middle of the day the streets of the city of London, though very unfavorable for conversation, so far as foot-passengers are concerned, afford peculiar advantages and opportunities for this purpose to those who ride in carriages; for the multitude of vehicles, and their frequent misarrangement, very conveniently retards progress. Philip Martindale wished himself at home in Brigland Abbey, or quietly perusing briefs in his chambers at the Temple, or any where rather than where he was. But there was no escape for him. “Now, Philip,” said the old gentleman, “I am going to introduce you to your new relations, or at least to mine, for I suppose you will hardly condescend to acknowledge them.” “I shall be very happy, sir, to see, and very proud to own, any relations of yours.” So said the Hon. Philip Martindale; but his heart and lips were sadly at variance. He was not very well pleased that such relations existed; and it would not be very agreeable to him to be on terms of acquaintance, as he certainly must if his cousin commanded him, with persons of low and vulgar minds as he supposed these new relatives must be. The old gentleman suspecting that his high-minded relative was fancying that the persons in question were of low caste, in consequence of their having been discovered in a cottage with a poor man, replied: “And I will tell you what, young man, they are not persons of whom you need to be ashamed. Colonel Rivolta held a very respectable station in the army, though he did fight for that fellow Bonaparte; and his wife, who is my daughter, is as well informed and well behaved a woman as ever I saw in my life. The young woman, I believe, you have seen before.” Philip did not like the tone in which the latter part of this sentence was uttered, and perhaps there was not a possibility of uttering it in any tone that should be agreeable. Many other topics of conversation were introduced, none of which were very agreeable; and even that which the old gentleman uttered with great glee, as being a matter of great interest and good tidings to his cousin, was by no means agreeable to the young gentleman. After having talked some little time on the subject of his discovered daughter, and as if fearing that his honorable cousin might apprehend from this discovery some ill fortune to himself, with the kind purpose of banishing such fear, he observed: “But you need not be jealous, Philip; I shall not forget you: so make your mind easy.”