"Sir," said he, "I forgot to say, that on returning from Maida Hill,
I took shelter from the rain under a covered passage, and there I met
unexpectedly with your nephew, Frank Hazeldean."

"Ah!" said Egerton, indifferently, "a fine young man; in the Guards.
It is a pity that my brother has such antiquated political notions;
he should put his son into parliament, and under my guidance; I could
push him. Well, and what said Frank?"

"He invited me to call on him. I remember that you once rather cautioned
me against too intimate an acquaintance with those who have not got their
fortunes to make."

"Because they are idle, and idleness is contagious. Right,--better not
to be too intimate with a young Guardsman."

"Then you would not have me call on him, sir? We were rather friends
at Eton; and if I wholly reject his overtures, might he not think that
you--"

"I!" interrupted Egerton. "Ah, true; my brother might think I bore him a
grudge; absurd. Call then, and ask the young man here. Yet still, I do
not advise intimacy." Egerton turned into his dressing-room. "Sir,"
said his valet, who was in waiting, "Mr. Levy is here,--he says by
appointment; and Mr. Grinders is also just come from the country."

"Tell Mr. Grinders to come in first," said Egerton, seating himself.
"You need not wait; I can dress without you. Tell Mr. Levy I will see
him in five minutes."