Fortune's My Foe

father had left it. Seventeen years!--full of storm and strife and battles, of thrones in danger; of one throne--that of England--almost lost to its holder by the invasion of him to whom it b

ible and of Shakespeare, and which found its last exponent in the great Defoe, but was now sinking into a jargon in which gentlemen and ladies spoke in a mincing and affected manner that was but a poor substitute for the grammar whi

of Chesterfield and his imitators superseding the grace and dignity of earlier days. The rogue too was now a crafty, scheming knave who feared public opinion as much as he feared the Lord Chief Justice and his subordinates, and began at this time to think as much of his respectability as of his nec

knave had any more chance than they had ever had or ever will have. When they succeeded they did so because their victims were either fools or wantons, and when they failed, as often

* *

ch his eye glanced with considerable complacency--a complacency which, however, was somewhat marred by the recollection that none were paid for, and, as far as Algernon Bufton knew, were not likely to be so just yet. Which fact would not, perhaps, have been particularly painful to him except for one

the Wells. Ay! the golden one. I do remember very well. I assumed it because it matched the blue frock and t

etter world than this. We know the carved ivory sticks, the highly coloured landscape, the lover kneeling at his mistress's feet, with ever one amorous arm around her waist--as should be in such happy sylvan scenes!--also we know the blue sky and the sportive woolly sheep, as well as the bird upon the bough, the r

ith you must be mine. Those sweet clear eyes, that supple form, those gentle features, and," he concluded, p

mirk of fervour on his face, while, still nurs

nning down to a point (so that some wondered how his barber shaved it, while others said it looked like a sheep's tail stuck on to an ordinary face), spoilt all. It caused him to look crafty; it seemed to make him lisp a little as he spoke, as though its weight was more than his lower jaw could bear; and it gained his

de of Portsmouth--one full of holy vows of admiration and esteem; a billet containing a little scrap of poetry (written for him, probably, by a garreteer of Grub Street for half-a-crown); one suggesting also that, by great good chance, he would be in the neighbourhood of Havant on a certain evening

lling forth a silk purse. A well-filled one, too, as it seemed by its weight; one heavy enough for any beau to carry, provided always that it was so carried simply to supply the wants of the passing hour, and was backed

out amongst them five great three pound twelve shilling piec

en required in public. "They give their possessor an air of sumptuousness. To draw one out 'twixt thumb and finger from a well-galloo

uttered, "seventy-nine guineas in all. Devilish little. I thought there had been more. And where are more to be gotten? Seventy-nine guineas---- Come in!" he cried, breakin

ered the room, "especially when those ears have learnt to discriminate 'twixt gold and b

, since still the creditors were confiding; his ruffles and neck-lace were clean and expensive. But with the other man things were mighty different. His coat was cloth, 'tis true, but cloth well worn; his linen and his lace were, say, dingy; and his wig had had never a shilling spent on it

with extreme displeasure on the sight of his visitor's feet, which were lifted with an indifferent

letter is in her hands, and she awaits you in the lim

rid post h

lined with straw; and, for comrades, two of Knowles' sailors, drunk; a demirep; also a Jew who furnishe

onger. Meanwhile, you know----" and here he gave the well-accustomed smile and fingered his chin, so

of money, but in the name of God, spare me your wit. My

ste no politeness. You do

e of a great heiress, you will never succeed in life if you fail to recognise that you are not a wit. The fourth-form little boy humour with which you regaled us once at Shrewsbury becomes not Lond

and thinking himself cynical, had sometimes retailed to her his sallies made both at Shrewsbury and at Clare. And now, to hear that

he fan which occupied the place of honour, "loves you. If you woo her carefully, and do not weary her with your accursed flabby wit, you may win her. Then--the

in still. "Drinking again. Come, tell me once more befo

e evening is the hour, and Thursday is the day. Win her--fail not to win her; she is

ll not

if I am a broken man--I--I can break--bah!

ht of the little heap of gold before him. "What!" he exclaimed. "What! And three

oins and dropped them into his w