Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.

ent over his late interview. "Tom Lendrick," as he still called him to himself, he had known as a boy, and ever liked him. He had been a pat

r, would be hard to conceive. Throughout his whole career at the bar, and in Parliament, men were never quite sure what that brilliant speaker and most indiscreet talker would do next. Men secured his advocacy with a half misgiving whether they were doing the very best or the very wo

tment that embittered all intercourse, and went so far as to make him disparage the high abilities of his son-created a gulf between them that Beattie knew could never be bridged over. He doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could conscientiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and excite. As he pondered, h

most attractive beauty. Through her rich brown hair there was a sort of golden reflet that imparted great brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large eyes of gray-blue were the image of candor and softness, till her laugh gave them a sparkl

h his love of beauty, but saw that girl, it would be worth all the argument

e a carriage was about to drive away. "Oh, doctor," cried a voice, "I'm so glad you 're come; they are most impa

it a word of counsel or advice, resists all int

e; "he is beckoning to me; good-bye,"

but harsh voice. "If I take my man Leonard, they 'll say it was a keeper. You know that the 'Post' has it this morning that it is my mind which has given way. They say they 've seen me breaking for y

ular,-a mere gr

-Generalship. They 've divided the carcase already. The lion has to assist at his autopsy,-ra

feel you

ialogue of yours on the grass plot has

id; you need res

u are the Augurs of modern civilization, and we cling to your pred

ry," said Beattie,

. Burrowes was telling how old I must be, because I moved the amendment to Flood in the Irish Parliament in '97; and Eames mentioned that I was Curran's junior in the great Bagenal record; and old Tysdal set them

er in your own room? There's t

u thin

, and the absence of all that st

caustic, is decomposed by light; and in your vulgar materialism you would make out that what affects your brain must act alike upon mine. I tell you, sir, it is

daily life and habits suggest some

s all on my side. If you'll kindly lend

lly, he returned to his chamber

, and I wanted a round with the gloves,-or, indeed, without them; at all events, I sent the challenge. But now, doctor, I have to own myself a craven. I dread the visit Could you manage to interpo

. I 'll speak t

assed a tranquil night, and so on. Pemberton won't like it, nor Hayes; but it will calm the fears of a very attached friend who calls here twice daily. You'd never guess him. He is the agent of th

not encourage you to exert yourself. I 'll say

so. I I 'll sit and muse over th

iatures here. I 'll leave them with

m his hand. "What a miserable juggler! what a stale trick this!" said he, as he opened the case

nd you," said Bea

y a piece of legerdemain, what you have not the courage

ey

hat her mother possessed. She was the silliest woman that ever turned a fool's head. She had the ineffable folly, sir, to believe sh

er, she is beyond forgiveness, or favor, eithe

nowledged ability, this temptation be not too much for you." The tone and manner in which the old judge delivered these words recalled the j

st when he fails to warn his patient

to my nature should be no longer medico of mine. With w

autiful faces whose owners are bound

ness, by his folly, by his heartless denial of my right to influence hi

also a warm one; but he came back at last to the object of the interview, which was to say that the Prime Minister was willing to recommend my name to her Majesty for the Peerage,-an honor, he was pleased to say, the public would see conferred upon me with approval; and I refused! Yes, sir, I refused what for thirty-odd years had formed the pride and the prize of my existence! I refused it, because I would not that her Majesty's favor should descend to one so unworthy of it as

e must keep them for calmer moments." Beattie laid his finger

ll he consent to a 'nolle prose

is something. Good-bye now till evening. No books,-no newspa

solace of my wife's society." The cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the spiteful sparkle of his eye, and t