Barrington

with a younger one, so like him that no doubt could have existed as to their being father and son. They had dined, and were sitting over their wine, talking occasionally, but oftene

efore to-morrow, Fred,"

apers that you were to dine at the Tuileries on Tuesday,

you, my boy; and the royal politeness that detained me was anything bu

e youth, as his eyes ran over, and the

t, and was less just than a little cool reflection might have made me. They made no charges against me, though I thought they had. There were grumblings

Barrington, don'

r of that name?" said the

ve in on an hish river. I passed weeks there, and, through the favor of t

to be a Conyers,

once to all the privileges of old friendship. She told me of the close companionship which once subsist

he father of George, h

been away from home when I arrived, and the day of his return I was unexpectedly presented t

ption,-how was it? Tell

man faltered, and seemed like to faint, and after a moment stammered out something about an honor he had never counted upon,-a visit he scarcely could ha

was hard to for

was hesitating how to avoid a repetition of the painful scene which marked our first meeting, he came manfully towards me with his

k I hear him speak the very words himself

ionate kindness he has shown,-the trustfulness and honor with wh

u know already how George Barrington and I lived together like brothers. I do not believe two men ever existed more thoroughly and sincerely attached to each other. All the contrarieties of our dispositions served but to heighten the interest that linked us together. As for myself, I was never wearied in exploring the strange recesses of that great nature that seemed to unite all that could be daring and dashing in man with the tenderness of a woman. I believe I knew him far better than he knew himself. But to come to what I wanted to tell you, and which is an agony to me to dwell on. Though for a long while our close friendship was known in the regiment, and spoken of as a thing incapable of change, a sort of rumor-no, not even a rumor, but an impression-seemed to gain, that the ties between us were looser on my side than his; that George looked up to me, and that I, with the pride of a certain superiority, rather lorded it over him. This feeling became painfully strengthened when it got about that Barrington had lent me the greater part of the purchase-money for my troop,-a promotion, by the way, which barred his own advancement,-and it was whispered, so at least I heard, that Barrington was a mere child in my hands, whom I rebuked or rewarded at pleasure. If I could have traced these rumors to any direct source, I could have known how to deal with them. As it was, they were vague, shadowy, and unreal; and t

rator, 'and who will probably be back to relate

in which nothing was sacred to me. No sooner, then, did I hear Barrington's name than I burst into a hearty laugh, and said, 'Oh! if it

tatement was true,' s

id George transgress any of those "unities" which such combats require. At the same time, Barring-ton's stories have always a some

than one feat of Barrington's,-things which I knew he had done, some of them almost incredible in boldness. These I told with ma

quarters he had heard the whole story. We were at luncheon in the mess-room whe

ts of mere drollery, and even jeopardize something of my truthfulness. You, I know, never meant this any more than I have felt it, but others might, and might, besides, on leaving this and sitting at other tables, repeat

ee him now, as he stood there, his very cheek shaking in agitation. That brave, bold fe

r draw the long-bow, George

at I never told a lie,' c

tter carried on elsewhere,' said

k a copy of my letter, and declared that I would read it to the officers in the mess-room. He sent a friend to me to beg I would not take this course of open insult. My answer was, 'Colonel Barrington knows his remedy.' When I sent this message, I prepared for what I felt

ow summoning up an insolent spirit of defiance to the whole world, now humbling myself in a consciousness of the evil line I had adopted,-I returned one night to my quarters. The first news that greeted me was that Barrington had left us. He had accepted the offer of a Native command which had been made to him so

. In the midst of the mass of letters which the post brought me every morning, and through which, without the aid of an officer on the staff, I could never have got through, there came one whose singular address struck me. It was to 'Captain Ormsby Conyers, 22d Light Dragoons,' a rank I had held fourteen years before that time in that same regiment. I opined at once that my correspondent must have been one who had known me at that time and not followed me in the interval. I was right. It was from old Mr. Barrington,-Geor

misery ten times told; that if he deemed my self-condemnation insufficient, it was open to him to add to it whatever he wished of obloquy or shame; that if he proclaimed me a coward before the world, and degraded me in the eyes of men, I would not offer one wor

Inquiry,' as it was called, I half hoped he would have noticed some letters of mine about

believed the charges that were m

n with such a pride of country as he had, nor could you have held out a greater bribe t

a man should have ha

l defect, gave him a manner of over-easy confidence that looked like impertinence. And thus the man who would not have wounded the self-love of the meanest beggar, got the reputation of being haughty, insolent, a

ather; his fame has not been vind

is man's memory;' but, 'Come forward and own you wronged him, and broke his heart.' Now, the accusation brought against George Barrington of assuming so

right track, father; or could you

yet. There is, however, one condition necessa

hat is

m alone; he must admit me to his confidence, an

-may I att

d to give one sign of his forgiveness; for in his treatment of you I only recognize the honorable feeling of exempting the son from the penalty due

said Fred, eagerly. "I will wr

t of your career? How do

y. Now, however, we have been called to repress what are called risings in the northern shires; and our task has bee

ed, but said not

on leave, is he

ed by that Major Sta

friend of yours, Fred," s

a week's leave to go and meet my father, whom I have not seen for years, and, when pre

with long ago. It may turn out that I know his family; but let us talk of Barrington. I have been thinking it would be better not to link

, sir. I will write to h

wn, Fred, I am ready to