expression as such a bright young face could well
put on. The ceaseless ebb and flow of gorgeous
equipages; the fair pedestrians in their
fashionable toilettes, even the little band of household
troops riding by in helm and cuirass, failed,
apparently, to interest that weary spectator.
He yawned, looked at his watch, took an
impatient turn or two about the room, and then
went back to the window, and drummed again
upon the panes. Some books, an opera-glass,
and one or two newspapers, lay on the table;
but the leaves of the books were uncut, and
only one of the newspapers had been unfolded.
Too ennuyé to read, and too restless to sit still,
this young man evidently found his time hang
heavily upon his hands.

Presently a cab drove up to the hotel, and two
gentlemen jumped out. The first of these was
William Trefalden; the second, Lord
Castletowers. William Trefalden looked up and
nodded, as he came up the broad stone steps,
and the watcher at the window ran joyously to
meet him on the stairs.

"I'm so glad you're come!" was his eager
exclamation. " I've been watching for you, and
the time has seemed so long!"

"I am only twenty minutes late," replied
Mr. Trefalden, smiling.

"But it's so dreary here!"

"And I bring you a visitor," continued the
other. "Lord Castletowers, allow me to
present my cousin, Mr. Saxon Trefalden. Saxon,
Lord Castletowers is so kind as to desire your
acquaintance."

Saxon put out his hand, and gave the Earl's a
hearty shake. He would as soon have thought
of greeting his guest with a bow as of flinging
him over the balcony into the street below.

"Thank you," said he. "I'm very much
obliged to you."

"I am surprised that you find this situation
'dreary,' Mr. Trefalden," said Lord
Castletowers, with a glance towards the window.

"I find all London dreary," replied Saxon,
bluntly.

"May I ask how long you have been here?"

"Five days."

"Then you have really had no time to form
an opinion."

"I have had time to be very miserable," said
Saxon. "I never was so miserable in my life.
The noise and hurry of London bewilder me.
I can settle to nothing. I can think of nothing.
I can do nothing. I find it impossible to read;
and if I go out alone in the streets, I lose myself.
Then there seems to be no air. I have inhaled
smoke and dust; but I have not breathed since I
came into the place."

"Your first impressions of our Babel are
certainly not couleur de rose," said the Earl,
laughingly.

"They are couleur de Lothbury, and couleur
de Chancery-lane," interposed William
Trefalden. " My cousin, Lord Castletowers, has for
these last four days been the victim of the law.

We have been putting him in possession of his
property, and he has seen nothing of town save
the gold regions east of Temple Bar."

"An excellent beginning," said the Earl.
"The finest pass into Belgravia is through
Threadneedle-street."

"And the noblest prospect in London is the
Bank of England," added the lawyer.

"I thought it very ugly and dirty," said Saxon,
innocently.

"I hope this law business is all over now," said
Lord Castletowers.

"Yes, for the present; and Saxon has nothing
to do but to amuse himself."

"Amuse myself!" echoed Saxon. "I must go
home to do that."

"Because Reichenan is so gay, or because you
find London so uninviting?" asked the Earl, with
a smile.

"Because I am a born mountaineer, and
because to me this place is a prison. I must have
air to breathe, hills to climb, and a gun on my
shoulder. That is what I call amusement."

"That is what I call amusement also," said
Lord Castletowers; "and if you will come down
to Surrey, I can give you plenty of it—a fishing-
rod, and a hunter included. But in the mean
while, you must let us prove to you that London
is not so barren of entertainment as you seem to
think."

"Let this help to prove it," said Mr. Trefalden,
taking from, his pocket a little oblong book in a
green paper cover. "There's magic in these
pages, my dear fellow. They contain all the wit,
wisdom, and beauty of the world we live in.
While you have this in your pocket, you will never
want for amusement—or friends; and when
you have come to the end of the present volume,
the publishers will furnish you with another."

"What is it?" said Saxon, turning it over
somewhat doubtfully.

"A cheque-book."

"Pshaw! money again. Always money!"

"Don't speak of it disrespectfully. You have
more than you can count, and as yet you neither
know what it is worth, nor what to do with it."

"Pray enlighten me, then," said Saxon, with a
touch of impatience in his voice. "Tell me, in
the first place, what it is worth?"

"That is a matter of individual opinion,"
replied Mr. Trefalden, with one of his quiet smiles.
"If you ask Lord Castletowers, he will probably
tell you that it is worth less than noble blood,
bright eyes, or Italian liberty. If you ask a
plodding fellow like myself, he will probably value it
above all three."

"Well then, in the second place, what am I to
do with it?"

"Spend it."

Saxon shrugged his shoulders; and Lord
Castletowers, who had coloured up somewhat
angrily the minute before, laughed, and said that
it was good advice.

"Spend it," repeated the lawyer. "You never
will know how to employ your money till you