“And why, Colonel Newcome,” Virtue exclaimed, laying a pudgy little hand on its heart; “why did I treat Clive so? Because I stood towards him _in loco parentis;_ because he was as a child to me, and I to him as a mother. I indulged him more than my own. I loved him with a true maternal tenderness. _Then_ he was happy to come to our house: _then_ perhaps Park Lane was not so often open to him as Bryanstone Square: but I make n_o allusions. Then_ he did not go six times to another house for once that he came to mine. He was a simple, confiding, generous boy, was not dazzled by worldly rank or titles of splendour. He could not find _these_ in Bryanstone Square. A merchant’s wife, a country lawyer’s daughter—I could not be expected to have my humble board surrounded by titled aristocracy; I would not if I could. I love my own family too well; I am too honest, too simple,—let me own it at once, Colonel Newcome, too _proud!_ And now, now his father has come to England, and I have resigned him, and he meets with no titled aristocrats at my house, and he does not come here any more.” Tears rolled out of her little eyes as she spoke, and she covered her round face with her pocket-handkerchief. Had Colonel Newcome read the paper that morning, he might have seen amongst what are called the fashionable announcements, the cause, perhaps, why his sister-in-law had exhibited so much anger and virtue. The _Morning Post_ stated, that yesterday Sir Brian and Lady Newcome entertained at dinner His Excellency the Persian Ambassador and Bucksheesh Bey; the Right Honourable Cannon Rowe, President of the Board of Control, and Lady Louisa Rowe; the Earl of H———, the Countess of Kew, the Earl of Kew, Sir Currey Baughton, Major-General and Mrs. Hooker, Colonel Newcome, and Mr. Horace Fogey. Afterwards her ladyship had an assembly, which was attended by, etc. etc. This catalogue of illustrious names had been read by Mr. Newcome to her spouse at breakfast, with such comments as she was in the habit of making. “The President of the Board of Control, the Chairman of the Court of Directors, and Ex-Governor-General of India, and a whole regiment of Kews. By Jove, Maria, the Colonel is in good company,” cries Mr. Newcome, with a laugh. “That’s the sort of dinner you should have given him. Some people to talk about India. When he dined with us he was put between old Lady Wormely and Professor Roots. I don’t wonder at his going to sleep after dinner. I was off myself once or twice during that confounded long argument between Professor Roots and Dr. Windus. That Windus is the deuce to talk.” “Dr. Windus is a man of science, and his name is of European celebrity!” says Maria solemnly. “Any intellectual person would prefer such company to the titled nobodies into whose family your brother has married.” “There you go, Polly; you are always having a shy at Lady Anne and her relations,” says Mr. Newcome, good-naturedly.