“Oh, quite,” replied the other, looking hard at the young man. “He was rather troublesome about that money which I told you I had lost to him at play. And now 'tis paid, and we are quits on that score, and we shall meet good friends again.” “My lord,” cried out Esmond, “I am sure you are deceiving me, and that there is a quarrel between the Lord Mohun and you.” “Quarrel--pish! We shall sup together this very night, and drink a bottle. Every man is ill-humored who loses such a sum as I have lost. But now 'tis paid, and my anger is gone with it.” “Where shall we sup, sir?” says Harry. “WE! Let some gentlemen wait till they are asked,” says my Lord Viscount with a laugh. “You go to Duke Street, and see Mr. Betterton. You love the play, I know. Leave me to follow my own devices: and in the morning we'll breakfast together, with what appetite we may, as the play says.” “By G--! my lord, I will not leave you this night,” says Harry Esmond. “I think I know the cause of your dispute. I swear to you 'tis nothing. On the very day the accident befell Lord Mohun, I was speaking to him about it. I know that nothing has passed but idle gallantry on his part.” “You know that nothing has passed but idle gallantry between Lord Mohun and my wife,” says my lord, in a thundering voice--“you knew of this and did not tell me?” “I knew more of it than my dear mistress did herself, sir--a thousand times more. How was she, who was as innocent as a child, to know what was the meaning of the covert addresses of a villain?” “A villain he is, you allow, and would have taken my wife away from me.” “Sir, she is as pure as an angel,” cried young Esmond.