“Adieu!” said he to Mordaunt. “I know not when we shall meet again, but if we ever do, I will make it my boast, whether in prosperity or misfortune, not to have forgotten the pleasure I have this day enjoyed!” Returning his guest’s farewell with a warmth unusual to his manner, Mordaunt followed him to the door and saw him depart. Fate ordained that they should pursue in very different paths their several destinies; nor did it afford them an opportunity of meeting again, till years and events had severely tried the virtue of one and materially altered the prospects of the other. The next morning Clarence Linden was on his road to London. CHAPTER VII. “Upon my word,” cries Jones, “thou art a very odd fellow, and I like thy humour extremely.”--FIELDING. The rumbling and jolting vehicle which conveyed Clarence to the metropolis stopped at the door of a tavern in Holborn. Linden was ushered into a close coffee-room and presented with a bill of fare. While he was deliberating between the respective merits of mutton chops and beefsteaks, a man with a brown coat, brown breeches, and a brown wig, walked into the room; he cast a curious glance at Clarence and then turned to the waiter. “A pair of slippers!” “Yes, sir,” and the waiter disappeared. “I suppose,” said the brown gentleman to Clarence, “I suppose, sir, you are the gentleman just come to town?” “You are right, sir,” said Clarence. “Very well, very well indeed,” resumed the stranger, musingly. “I took the liberty of looking at your boxes in the passage; I knew a lady, sir, a relation of yours, I think.” “Sir!” exclaimed Linden, colouring violently. “At least I suppose, for her name was just the same as yours, only, at least, one letter difference between them: yours is Linden I see, sir; hers was Minden. Am I right in my conjecture that you are related to her?” “Sir,” answered Clarence, gravely, “notwithstanding the similarity of our names, we are not related.” “Very extraordinary,” replied the stranger. “Very,” repeated Linden. “I had the honour, sir,” said the brown gentleman, “to make Mrs. Minden many presents of value, and I should have been very happy to have obliged you in the same manner, had you been in any way connected with that worthy gentlewoman.” “You are very kind,” said Linden, “you are very kind; and since such were your intentions, I believe I must have been connected with Mrs. Minden. At all events, as you justly observe, there is only the difference of a letter between our names, a discrepancy too slight, I am sure, to alter your benevolent intentions.” Here the waiter returned with the slippers. The stranger slowly unbuttoned his gaiters. “Sir,” said he to Linden, “we will renew our conversation presently.” No sooner had the generous friend of Mrs. Minden deposited his feet in their easy tenements than he quitted the room. “Pray,” said Linden to the waiter, when he had ordered his simple repast, “who is that gentleman in brown?”