“You are too good to me, my Lord,--far too good, and too thoughtful of me,” said Sewell, with emotion. “I am one of those men who must go to the grave misconstrued and misrepresented. He who would be firm in an age of cowardice, he who would be just in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. But, sir, there is a moral stature, as there is a material stature, that requires distance for its proportions; and it is possible posterity will be more just to me than my contemporaries.” “I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be long deferred.” “You are a courtier, sir,” said the Judge, smiling. “It was amongst courtiers I passed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to be the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the consumers decreased in taste and increased in number.” “How neatly, how admirably expressed!” said Sewell, bowing. “I had some of that gift once,” said the old man, with a sigh; “but it is a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now as rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara.” “I declare, my Lord, it is two o'clock. Here is your servant coming to announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have monopolized.” “You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?” “No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at inflicting you so long already.” “Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of some of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be bored. I am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies me, Leave me--leave-me to myself and my own dreariness. Had you 'inflicted' me, as you call it, I 'd have said as much two hours ago. Your company was, however, most agreeable. You know how to talk, and, what is rarer, you know how to listen.” Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence. “I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior barristers and curates,” muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud, “Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to dinner. We dine at seven;” and without further adieu than a slight wave of his hand, he turned away and entered the house. CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and, taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road. Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but walked along without a word. “I hope you found my grandfather in better temper, sir?” asked Tom, at last.