"My dear Markham," said he, "you must excuse the liberty which I take in thus intruding upon your privacy; but what is the meaning of this? You were to lunch with Harborough to-day, and we were all to dine together in the evening. You called at Diana's; and from what you said upon leaving, she fancied you were coming straight home. So I have galloped all this way after you. You shut yourself up from your friends as if you had a design upon your life." "I am not well--I am anxious to be alone." "But I shall not allow you to remain alone," said Chichester. "If you should feel melancholy, what guarantee have I that you will not commit suicide, or do what is nearly as bad--sit down and write sentimental poetry?" "I am not very likely to do either." "You must come and join us: the baronet----" "I would rather----" "I can take no excuse. Order round your chestnut, and let us be off." "Well--at all events I must go straight into the City first," said Markham. "I have occasion to call at my guardian's banker." "Will you join me at seven precisely this evening, at Harborough's own lodgings in Conduit-street? We shall expect you." "You may rely upon me," answered Markham who now suddenly experienced an anxiety for society and bustle. "But who will be there?" "Only the baronet, you, I, and Talbot--a _partie quarre_. Talbot is really a good fellow at heart, and has taken a great liking to you. Besides, he is the most liberal and generous fellow in existence. He sent a hundred pounds to every hospital in London yesterday morning--his annual donations; and he thinks that no one knows anything about it. He always puts himself down as X. Y. Z. in the lists of charitable subscriptions: he is so unostentatious!" "Those are admirable traits in his character." "They are, indeed. Just now, for instance, he heard of a horrid case of distress. Only conceive a poor man, with nine small children and a wife just ready to present him with a tenth, dragged to Whitecross Street Prison, for a paltry hundred pounds! Talbot instantly called me aside, and said, '_Chichester, my dear fellow, I have not time to attend to any business to-day. There is a five hundred pound note; have the kindness to get it changed for me, and devote a hundred pounds to save the unhappy family._' Those were Talbot's own words," added Mr. Chichester surveying Richard in a peculiar manner from under his eyebrows. "How liberal! how grand! how noble!" exclaimed Richard, forgetting all Mr. Talbot's vulgarity and coarseness, as he listened to these admirable traits of philanthropy. "To be candid with you, I am myself going to the banker's to draw some money; and when I see you this evening, I shall be happy to place twenty pounds in your hands for the use of that poor family." "No, my dear fellow, keep your money: the baronet and I shall take care of those poor people." "Nay--I insist--" "Well--I am sorry now that I told you of the circumstance." "And I am very glad."