At the beginning of breakfast, Mr. Beauclerc had all the perfect English quiet of look and manners, with somewhat of a high-bred air of indifference to all sublunary things, yet saying and doing whatever was proper for the present company; yet it was done and said like one in a dream, performed like a somnambulist, correctly from habit, but all unconsciously. He awakened from his reverie the moment General Clarendon came in, and he asked eagerly,-- “General! how far is it to Old Forest?” These were the first words which he pronounced like one wide awake. “I must ride there this morning; it’s absolutely necessary.” The general replied that he did not see the necessity. “But when I do, sir,” cried Beauclerc; the natural vivacity of the young man breaking through the conventional manner. Next moment, with a humble look, he hoped that the general would accompany him, and the look of proud humility vanished from his countenance the next instant, because the general demurred, and Beauclerc added, “Will not you oblige me so far? Then I must go by myself.” The general, seeming to go on with his own thoughts, and not to be moved by his ward’s impatience, talked of a review that was to be put off, and at length found that he could accompany him. Beauclerc then, delighted, thanked him warmly. “What is the object of this essential visit to Old Forest, may I ask?” said Lady Davenant. “To see a dilapidated house,” said the general. “To save a whole family from ruin,” cried Beauclerc; “to restore a man of first-rate talents to his place in society.” “Pshaw!” said the general. “Why that contemptuous exclamation, my dear general?” said Beauclerc. “I have told you, and again I tell you, the thing is impossible!” said the general. “So I hear you say, sir,” replied his ward; “but till I am convinced, I hold to my project.” “And what is your project, Granville?” said Lady Davenant. “I will explain it to you when we are alone,” said Beauclerc. “I beg your pardon, I was not aware that there was any mystery,” said Lady Davenant. “No mystery,” said Beauclerc, “only about lending some money to a friend.” “To which I will not consent,” said the general. “Why not, sir?” said Beauclerc, throwing back his head with an air of defiance in his countenance; there was as he looked at his guardian a quick, mutable succession of feelings, in striking contrast with the fixity of the general’s appearance. “I have given you my reasons, Beauclerc,” said the general, “It is unnecessary to repeat what I have said, you will do no good.” “No good, general? When I tell you that if I lend Beltravers the money, to put his place in repair, to put it in such a state that his sisters could live in it, he would no longer be a banished man, a useless absentee, a wanderer abroad, but he would come and settle at Old Forest, re-establish the fortune and respectability of his family, and above all, save his own character and happiness. Oh, my dear general!”