unfortunate boy has been who was here this
morning) his duties become complicated, and
his temptations much greater, while, at the
same time, he has no hereditary principles
and honourable training to serve as
safeguards. I might take up my old simile of
the racehorse and carthorse. I am distressed,"
continued she, with a break in her ideas,
"about that boy. The whole thing reminds
me so much of a story of what happened to a
friend of mine—Clément de Créquy. Did I
ever tell you about him?"

"No, your ladyship," I replied.

"Poor Clément! more than twenty years
ago, Lord Ludlow and I spent a winter in
Paris. He had many friends there; perhaps
not very good or very wise men, but he was
so kind that he liked every one, and every one
liked him. We had an apartement, as they
call it there, in the Rue de Lille; we had
the first-floor of a grand hôtel, with the
basement for our servants. On the floor above
us the owner of the house lived, a Marquise
de Créquy, a widow. They tell me that the
Créquy coat of arms is still emblazoned, after
all these terrible years, on a shield above the
arched porte-cochère, just as it was then,
though the family is quite extinct. Madame
de Créquy had only one son, Clément, who
was just the same age as my Urian—you
may see his portrait in the great hall—
Urian's, I mean." I knew that Master Urian
had been drowned at sea; and often had I
looked at the presentment of his bonny, hopeful
face, in his sailor's dress, with right hand
outstretched to a ship on the sea in the
distance, as if he had just said, "Look at her!
all her sails are set, and I'm just off." Poor
Master Urian! he went down in this very
ship not a year after the picture was taken!
But now I will go back to my lady's story.
"I can see those two boys playing now,"
continued she, softly, shutting her eyes, as if
the better to call up the vision, "as they
used to do five-and-twenty years ago in those
old-fashioned French gardens behind our
hôtel. Many a time have I watched them
from my windows. It was, perhaps, a better
play-place than an English garden would
have been, for there were but few flower-
beds, and no lawn at all to speak about; but
instead, terraces and balustrades and vases
and flights of stone steps more in the Italian
style; and there were jets-d'eau, and little
fountains that could be set playing by turning
water-cocks that were hidden here and there.
How Clément delighted in turning the water
on to surprise Urian, and how gracefully he
did the honours, as it were, to my dear,
rough, sailor lad! Urian was as dark as a
gypsy boy, and cared little for his appearance,
and resisted all my efforts at setting off
his black eyes and tangled curls; but
Clément, without ever showing that he thought
about himself and his dress, was always
dainty and elegant, even though his clothes
were sometimes but threadbare. He used
to be dressed in a kind of hunter's green suit,
open at the neck and half-way down the
chest to beautiful old lace frills; his long,
golden curls fell behind just like a girl's, and
his hair in front was cut over his straight,
dark eyebrows in a line almost as straight.
Urian learnt more of a gentleman's carefulness
and propriety of appearance from that
lad in two months than he had done in years
from all my lectures. I recollect one day,
when the two boys were in full romp—and,
my window being open, I could hear them
perfectly—and Urian was daring Clément to
some scrambling or climbing, which Clément
refused to undertake, but in a hesitating
way, as if he longed to do it if some reason
had not stood in the way; and Urian, who
was hasty and thoughtless, poor fellow, at
times, told Clément that he was afraid.
'Fear!' said the French boy, drawing
himself up; 'you do not know what you say.
If you will be here at six to-morrow morning,
when it is only just light, I will take that
starling's nest on the top of yonder chimney.'
'But why not now, Clément?' said Urian,
putting his arm round Clément's neck.
'Why, then, and not now, just when we
are in the humour for it?' Because we De
Créquys are poor, and my mother cannot
afford me another suit of clothes this year,
and yonder stone carving is all jagged, and
would tear my coat and breeches. Now,
tomorrow morning I could go up with nothing
on but an old shirt.'

"'But you would tear your legs?'

"'My race do not care for pain,' said the
boy, drawing himself from Urian's arm, and
walking a few steps away, with a becoming
pride and reserve; for he was hurt at being
spoken to as if he were afraid, and annoyed
at having to confess the true reason for
declining the feat. But Urian was not to be
thus baffled. He went up to Clément, and
put his arm once more about his neck, and I
could see the two lads as they walked down
the terrace away from the hôtel windows;
first Urian spoke eagerly, looking with
imploring fondness into Clément's face, which
sought the ground, till at last the French
boy spoke, and by-and-by his arm was
round Urian too, and they paced backwards
and forwards in deep talk, but gravely, as
became men, rather than boys.

"All at once, from the little chapel at the
corner of the large garden belonging to the
Missions Etrangères, I heard the tinkle of
the little bell, announcing the elevation of
the host. Down on his knees went Clément,
hands crossed, eyes bent down: while Urian
stood looking on in respectful thought.

"What a friendship that might have been!
I never dream of Urian without seeing
Clément too,—Urian speaks to me, or does
something,—but Clément only flits round
Urian, and never seems to see any one else!

"But I must not forget to tell you, that
the next morning, before he was out of his