'At all events,' said Lavinia, 'I beseech you to be a little careful; I would not have my poor mother find you here for the world.' 'O, as to that, I defy her to desire the meeting less than I do. But come, let's talk of something else. How go on the classics? Is my old friend, Dr. Orkborne, as chatty and amusing as ever?' 'My dear Lionel,' said Camilla, 'I am filled with apprehension and perplexity. Why should my mother wish not to see you? And why--and how is it possible you can wish not to see her?' 'What, don't you know it all?' 'I know only that something must be wrong; but how, what, or which way, I have not heard.' 'Has not Lavinia told you, then? 'No,' answered Lavinia; 'I could be in no haste to give her pain.' 'You are a good girl enough. But how came you hither, Camilla? and what is the reason you have not seen my mother yourself?' 'Not seen her! I have been with her this half hour.' 'What! and in all that time did not she tell you?' 'She did not name you.' 'Is it possible!--Well, she's a noble creature! I wonder how she could ever have such a son as me. And I am still less like my father than her. I suppose I was changed in the cradle. Will you countenance me, young ladies, if some villainous attorney or exciseman should by and by come to own me?' 'Dear Lionel,' cried Camilla, 'do explain to me what has happened. You make me think it important and trifling twenty times in a minute.' 'O, a horrid business!--Lavinia must tell it you. I'll go away till she has done. Don't despise me, Camilla; I am confounded sorry, I promise you.' He then hurried out of the room, evidently feeling more emotion than he cared to display. Yet Lavinia had but just begun her relation, when he abruptly returned. 'Come, I had better tell it you myself,' cried he, 'for she'll make such a dismal ditty of it, that it won't be over this half year; the sooner we have done with it the better; it will only put you out of spirits.' Then, sitting down, and taking her hand, he began, 'You must know I was in rather a bad scrape at Oxford last year--' 'Last year! and you never told us of it before!' 'O, 'twas about something you would not understand, so I shall not mention particulars now. It is enough for you to know that two or three of us wanted a little cash!--well, so--in short, I sent a letter--somewhat of a threatening sort--to poor old uncle Relvil!'-- 'O Lionel!' 'O, I did not sign it,--it was only begging a little money, which he can afford to spare very well; and just telling him, if he did not come to a place I mentioned, he would have his brains blown out.'-- 'How horrible!' 'Pho, pho,--he had only to send the money, you know, and then his brains might keep their place; besides, you can't suppose there was gunpowder in the words. So I got this copied, and took the proper measures for concealment, and,--would you believe it! the poor old gull was fool enough actually to send the money where he was bid?'