contemporaries equal to himself in the advantages of ability, original goodness of disposition, and the costly and profuse expenditure of education. But the vain father, as he heard, on all sides, of his son’s talents, saw nothing sinister in their direction; and though the poor boy grew daily more contracted in mind and broken in frame, Vavasour yet hugged more and more closely to his breast the hope of ultimate cure for the latter and future glory for the former. So he went on heaping money and extending acres, and planting and improving and building and hoping and anticipating, for one at whose very feet the grave was already dug! But we left Mr. Brown in the study, making his bow and professions of service to Mr. Vavasour Mordaunt and his son. “Good day, honest Brown,” said the former, a middle-sized and rather stout man, with a well-powdered head, and a sharp, shrewd, and very sallow countenance; “good day; have you brought any of the foreign liqueurs you spoke of, for Mr. Henry?” “Yes, sir, I have some curiously fine eau d’or and liqueur des files, besides the marasquino and curacoa. The late Lady Waddilove honoured my taste in these matters with her especial approbation.” “My dear boy,” said Vavasour, turning to his son, who lay extended on the couch, reading not the “Prometheus” (that most noble drama ever created), but the notes upon it, “my dear boy, as you are fond of liqueurs, I desired Brown to get some peculiarly fine; perhaps--” “Pish!” said the son, fretfully interrupting him, “do, I beseech you, take your hand off my shoulder. See now, you have made me lose my place. I really do wish you would leave me alone for one moment in the day.” “I beg your pardon, Henry,” said the father, looking reverently on the Greek characters which his son preferred to the newspaper. “It is very vexatious, I own; but do taste these liqueurs. Dr. Lukewarm said you might have everything you liked--” “But quiet!” muttered the cripple. “I assure you, sir,” said the wandering merchant, “that they are excellent; allow me, Mr. Vavasour Mordaunt, to ring for a corkscrew. I really do think, sir, that Mr. Henry looks much better. I declare he has quite a colour.” “No, indeed!” said Vavasour, eagerly. “Well, it seems to me, too, that he is getting better. I intend him to try Mr. E----‘s patent collar in a day or two; but that will in some measure prevent his reading. A great pity; for I am very anxious that he should lose no time in his studies just at present. He goes to Cambridge in October.” “Indeed, sir! Well, he will set the town in a blaze, I guess, sir! Everybody says what a fine scholar Mr. Henry is,--even in the servants’ hall!” “Ay, ay,” said Vavasour, gratified even by this praise, “he is clever enough, Brown; and, what is more” (and here Vavasour’s look grew sanctified), “he is good enough. His principles do equal honour to his head and heart. He would be no son of mine if he were not as much the gentleman as the scholar.”