In the other--a ruined _roué_--Mr. Aubrey was infinitely shocked at presently recognizing the features of one whom he had slightly known at Oxford. This was a member of an ancient and honorable family, and born to a princely fortune, which he had totally dissipated in every conceivable mode of extravagance and profligacy, both at home and abroad, and moreover, in doing so, had also ruined his constitution. He had taken honors at Oxford, and was expected to have been very eminent in Parliament. But at college his tendency to profligacy rapidly developed itself. He became notorious for his debaucheries, and made ostentation of his infidelity. He had returned from France only a few days before, in an advanced stage of consumption; and having been pounced upon by one of his numerous infuriate creditors, hither he had been brought the evening before--and would be the next morning lodged in the Fleet, as he could procure no bail; and there he might, possibly, live till he could apply to take the benefit of the insolvent act. If he should be successful in this last stroke, he could not possibly survive it beyond a few weeks! And he had nothing then to look forward to, but a pauper's burial.--He at length recognized Mr. Aubrey; and raising himself up on the sofa, extended his wasted hand to his fellow-collegian, who shook it kindly--much shocked at his appearance. What a marvellous difference was there between the characters of these two men! After about half an hour's absence, Mr. Runnington returned, much dispirited. Mr. Ridley was not to be found; and, consequently, Mr. Aubrey must remain in his wretched quarters all night, and till probably an advanced period of the ensuing day--till, in short, Mr. Runnington should have obtained responsible sureties for his putting in bail to the action. Having whispered a few words to Mr. Aubrey in the adjoining room, and slipped a five-pound note into his hand, Mr. Runnington took his leave, pledging himself to lose not one moment in procuring his release; and charged with innumerable fond expressions to Mrs. Aubrey, to Kate, and to his children--to whom Mr. Runnington promised to go that night. "This is almost the bitterest moment of my life," faltered poor Aubrey; "it is very hard to bear!" and he wrung Mr. Runnington's hand--that gentleman being almost as much affected as his truly unfortunate client; who, however, on being left by Mr. Runnington, felt grateful indeed to the Almighty for so powerful and valuable a friend.