the lucky Robert, who tries, but not very hard,
to escape this effusion of gratitude he had done
nothing to deserve. Lord Morden will not be
restrained. "My rank, my credit, my fortune,"
says he, " are yours. Speak, sir; how can I
serve you? Do you want gold? Pardon me—
perhaps I offend your delicacy. I offer you my
friendship. I am lively, impressionable, enthusiastic
—yes, very enthusiastic. Yes, sir, I am
proud to say that I am a true Englishman, and
cannot help admiring a noble action."

"My lord," says Robert, "this is a very
simple affair, and deserves no praise. I was
with my pupils I saw the danger we saved
the ladies nobody is hurt; that is all."

His lordship wishes to know who Mr. Robert
may be. He tells him that he is a man of letters,
a philosopher, and a political writer, who, for
want of a patron, has been obliged to take a
situation in the college of Mr. Jackson. He
had been the tutor of Edward Prior. Lord
Morden has heard of him. He offers him the
post of his secretary, his friendship, protection,
table, house, equipages, and four hundred pounds
sterling a year for life— if that was not sufficient,
he would double or treble it.

"Speak freely, my lord," says Robert. " I
know that your grace, like many other noblemen,
is dissatisfied with the influence of the
proud Count of Essex."

"Ah! you know that? Well, my dear
Robert, this ascendancy is, perhaps, on the
point of being finished. We have a strong
party—Lord Buckingham, Rocley, Lord Strafford,
whom I never see, whose family is in exile—
but it is all the same. Here is a matter in
which you may be useful. Here are some notes;
reduce them to order to make me an eloquent
memoir. You know that Elizabeth cultivates
literature. An energetic and elegant style
fixes her attention. I will sign it, and be responsible.
My dear Robert, we are Englishmen,
we love our country, we cherish our
sovereign, and it is our duty to enlighten her,
and free her nobles from the caprices of a
favourite."

Robert is delighted with the honours heaped
upon him, and readily undertakes the task
assigned him.

In the mean time, Will and the boys have
got the horses and carriage all right, and come
upon the scene. Maria inquires anxiously if he
is hurt, and is gratified to find that he is as
comfortable as possible.

"Are these your pupils?" asked Lord
Morden.

"Yes, my lord," says Robert; "this is Mr.
Tomy, the first Greek scholar of the school;
this is Mr. Dig, who had only two faults in his
yesterday's theme; Mr. Burg, who draws from
the round." After romancing in this fashion,
he says, " My lord, dare I ask you a favour?"

"Speak. You could not do me a greater
kindness."

"This is Mr. Will, a young student of Oxford,
who is going to London to seek a place. He
has excellent talents, and you will greatly oblige
me by procuring him employment, and allowing
him to live with me."

This favour is readily accorded. Lady Morden
finds the young gentleman very interesting, and
so, indeed, does Miss Maria.

"Good-by, my dear Robert," says Lord
Morden. " I shall expect you in an hour. My
house is at London in Lombard-street. Remember
that you have not a moment to lose,
and that the Chancellor expects me at nine
o'clock."

Will, as may be supposed, is a little astonished
at seeing another rewarded for his services.
Some of the boys have been wounded. That is
a trifle. Robert is happy; bnt he sees that
Will does not quite like it. But he says it is
not the part of a general to expose himself, and
explains to Will that he is to be his companion,
which, under the circumstances, is satisfactory.

The second act is at Lord Morden's mansion
in Lombard-street. Brigton, his lordship's
principal valet, is showing Will the house.

"Mr. Will," he says, " you have now seen
the whole establishment. Are you satisfied with
your apartment? Would you like a larger or
more sumptuous one?"

"Oh no! it is too fine for me. What a difference
between this and the dormitories at
Oxford!"

"I shall be careful," says the amiable valet,
"to anticipate all your wishes. In the mean
time, shall I order you some puddings, some
sweetmeats, and some muscat?"

"Sweetmeats! muscat! My lord is too good;
but, what is your name, my dear?"

"Brigton."

"Tell me, Mr. Brigton— this little pavilion
in the park—the view must be superb. It would
be a delicious place to paint in. Could you let
me see it?"

"Nothing easier; I will conduct you. If,
before dinner, you would wish to take a promenade
on horseback to give you an appetite, I
will order them to saddle Zephyr, a charming
beast, that cuts the air—five miles in ten
minutes at the last race."

Will declines to ride just now in this beautiful
park in Lombard-street, and Brigton is
surprised with a visit from Lord Strafford, who
says to him:

"Tell me, my dear"—this was the way lords
addressed valets in the days of the sublime
Elizabeth— "tell me, my dear, do you think
your master will be home soon?"

"Can't say, my lord; he came home at three
o'clock in the morning, and had scarcely spoken
two words to my lady, when the grand chancellor
sent for him."

"It is well. Leave me;" and Will and his
friend Brigton take their little walk in the
park.

Lord Strafford, left alone, takes the opportunity
to make a little soliloquy. " Morden is in
favour," he says, " but what pretext have I for
coming to see him, when I have been so long
absent? Ah! that little accident to his sister
in the woods of Hyde Park will answer. Love