Mr. Hobson rather enjoyed his brother’s perplexity, and to see when the Baronet rode the high horse, how he came down sometimes, “I am sure it does you very great credit,” gasped the courtly head of the firm, “to remember a—a humble friend and connexion of our father’s so well.” “I think, brother, you might have recollected her too,” the Colonel growled out. His face was blushing; he was quite angry and hurt at what seemed to him Sir Brian’s hardness of heart. “Pardon me if I don’t see the necessity,” said Sir Brian. “_I_ have no relationship with Mrs. Mason, and do not remember ever having seen her. Can I do anything for you, brother? Can I be useful to you in any way? Pray command me and Barnes here, who after City hours will be delighted if he can be serviceable to you—_I_ am nailed to this counter all the morning, and to the House of Commons all night;—I will be with you in one moment, Mr. Quilter. Good-bye, my dear Colonel. How well India has agreed with you! how young you look! the hot winds are nothing to what we endure in Parliament.—Hobson,” in a low voice, “you saw about that h’m, that power of attorney—and h’m and h’m will call here at twelve about that h’m.—I am sorry I must say good-bye—it seems so hard after not meeting for so many years.” “Very,” says the Colonel. “Mind and send for me whenever you want me, now.” “Oh, of course,” said the elder brother, and thought when will that ever be! “Lady Anne will be too delighted at hearing of your arrival. Give my love to Clive—a remarkable fine boy, Clive—good morning:” and the Baronet was gone, and his bald head might presently be seen alongside of Mr. Quilter’s confidential grey poll, both of their faces turned into an immense ledger. Mr. Hobson accompanied the Colonel to the door, and shook him cordially by the hand as he got into his cab. The man asked whither he should drive? and poor Newcome hardly knew where he was or whither he should go. “Drive! a—oh—ah—damme, drive me anywhere away from this place!” was all he could say; and very likely the cabman thought he was a disappointed debtor who had asked in vain to renew a bill. In fact, Thomas Newcome had overdrawn his little account. There was no such balance of affection in that bank of his brothers, as the simple creature had expected to find there. When he was gone, Sir Brian went back to his parlour, where sate young Barnes perusing the paper. “My revered uncle seems to have brought back a quantity of cayenne pepper from India, sir,” he said to his father. “He seems a very kind-hearted simple man,” the Baronet said “eccentric, but he has been more than thirty years away from home. Of course you will call upon him to-morrow morning. Do everything you can to make him comfortable. Whom would he like to meet at dinner? I will ask some of the Direction. Ask him, Barnes, for next Wednesday or Saturday—no; Saturday I dine with the Speaker. But see that every attention is paid him.”