whom he could not help remembering still, who was not in the least like this pale person: to think that years and poverty should have brought that bright creature to this! “I almost wonder, Gerald,” said Lady Piercey, as she sat among her silks with an air of ease diffused over all the surroundings, working a little by turns and pausing to watch benignantly the process of the backgammon,--“I almost wonder that you did not meet my boy at the station. His train would come in just before yours left, and I have been thinking since then that you might have met. He was to meet an old friend, an excellent old clergyman, with whom he was to spend a few days. Though he is full of spirit, my Gervase is very fond of all his old friends.” “Humph!” said Sir Giles; but that was only perhaps because at that moment he made an injudicious move. “I should not have known him had I met him,” said the Colonel, carefully making a move more injudicious still, to the delight of Sir Giles; “you forget he was only a child when I was here. I saw an old clergyman roaming about, looking into all the carriages: was that your friend, I wonder? He had found no one up to that time.” “You sent Gregson after him then, my lady?” said Sir Giles; “though I said it wasn’t fair.” “Why Sir Giles says it wasn’t fair is this, Gerald,” said Lady Piercey; “and you can judge between us. He thought because the boy was going to enjoy himself he shouldn’t be troubled with old friends; but I thought a good judicious old clergyman, that had known him from his cradle, couldn’t be in any one’s way.” “I see your point of view,” said Colonel Gerald, “but I think for my part I agree with Uncle Giles. At Gervase’s age I should have thought the old clergyman a bore.” “Ah! but my Gervase is one in a thousand,” Lady Piercey said, nodding her head and pursing up her lips. “I saw another group at the station that amused me,” said Gerald: “a young country-fellow with something of the look of a gentleman, and a girl all clad in gorgeous apparel, who had not in the least the look of a lady. They got out of the train arm-in-arm, he holding her just as if he feared she might run away--which was the last thing I should say she had any intention of doing. Is there any _hobereau_ about here with a taste for rustic beauties? They were newly married, I should think, or going to be married. He, in a loud state of delight, and she---- I should think she had made a good stroke of business, that little girl.” “I don’t know of any name like Hobero,” said Lady Piercey; “but there are a great many stations between this and London. I dare say they didn’t come from hereabouts at all. Girls of that class are dreadful. They dress so that you don’t know what kind they are--neither flesh nor fish nor red herring, as the proverb is--and their manners--but they haven’t got any. They think nothing is too good for them.”