ton. No one could believe he was not much better than he appeared. Here they were right. A man rather soft in the head, however strong in the heart, is sure to submit his principles to too strong a strain. And a man who begins as "nobody's enemy but his own," will not go far without considerable danger to his neighbour also.

When once a man takes so fatal a step as to accept hard cash from a friend-not to help a sick wife and family at a difficulty, but simply to carry him on in a career of pleasure-from that day you may count the decline and fall of all that marks the proper man. Dick had long since turned the critical corner-though not without the questionable excuse that many were the friends on whom he had lavished moneybefore he had been reduced to Mrs. Cheston's settlement, and what little he "could pick up by his wits."

It had now become habitual with Dick to levy black-mail on all sides; and as the generation of his own contemporaries were nearly tired out, Dick took care to recruit his tributaries from the ranks of the rising generation. His knowledge of horses, dogs, game-preserving, wine, guns, racing, and the ways of the world generally, were well worth paying for, as Cheston was a perfect sportsman: so, there were few

country-seats of the sporting members of the aristocracy at which Dick Cheston was not, from time to time, a welcome guest.

A man of large fortune-to say nothing of his being kindly and hospitably disposed—soon finds, especially if he has few literary or other resources within himself, that he cannot exist without society around him; and he is often obliged to hire persons to break the loneliness of a country-house, as also to amuse his company in dull winter days. Dick was upon the list of no small number of such men, and was not the less in their employment because paid rather in kind than in coin; though, with one or two of his more generous friends, a cheque in Dick's dressing-case was sometimes left, to keep him afloat with fees, fares, and turnpikes.

The secret of Dick's popularity—and this is true of most other popular men-was his perfect good-nature, warm heart, and frank and ingenuous character. What! with all the failings already set down against him? And why not? These better qualities surround a man, as with an atmosphere of amiability, every hour of the day; while the stiffer virtues, perhaps, are not called out on active service above once a quarter for, fair-weather honesty, like companymanners, answers every purpose in quiet times.

CHESTON UNDERSTANDS SNIPE.

171

Snipe saw the fatal ascendancy of Cheston, but could not stop it. There is something repulsive, we know not how, about a selfish and designing man. His words may be specious, but his tones are hollow, and there is a look that mars the credit of his tongue. And Cheston was fast supplanting the influence of Snipe. Cheston's name was ever on Ned's lip; Cheston was quoted upon all occasions: till, so overwhelming was his influence, that Snipe thought it scarcely prudent to say much against him; more especially as Cheston had cast a knowing look at Snipe, which plainly seemed to say, "I have seen your sort before to-day: be careful, or I'll clip your wings for ever."

In one respect Dick Cheston was very useful: he encouraged Walford in hunting and shooting, and thus caused a diversion to female snares. He had no daughters of his own to provide for: he had, therefore, no inducement to forbear enforcing a theory which, with him as a sportsman, was reasonable enough-namely, that till a young man has "had his fling," married and marred are convertible terms.

172

CHAPTER XIII.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF COLLEGE.

IT was now time that Ned Walford should enter College. The nearer it drew to the first day of term, the less he liked the thoughts of it. The stern and serious look of the VicePresident, as he appeared while criticising some very Anglicised Latin writing, and the difficulty that gentleman had made about letting him in, would naturally feel very strange to the Heir of Richcourt, whom every one had been running after and flattering all through the various stages of nursery, school, private tutor, and all.

And "how would the Vice-President receive him, when he reported himself at College? What would he advise-what inquiries would he make-what would he say about this-what had he himself better answer about some other matter?"

FIRST TERM AT COLLEGE.

173

Such were the questions, all founded on his own great importance, which rushed into Walford's mind as he put on his new cap and gown, to make his appearance at Mr. Walesby's

rooms.

How many times, in the course of our lives, do we make up our minds, and stand, as it were, in battle array, ready for a defence which is never wanted, or racking our brains for an answer to no one's thoughts but our own! Just as Æneas, that gay deceiver, in the Shades below, was primed with a whole string of excuses to make to poor Dido, about that cruel breach-of-promise case, when, after all, she cut him dead, and turned upon her heel, without troubling him for one of them.

Mr. Walesby was just as far from entering into all the minutiae of the particular case of Ned Walford.

As Walford entered the room, Mr. Walesby, who had to give audience to half the College that morning, was standing, shaking two men by the hands at the same time, and making the same words, full of pleasantry and good-humour, serve for both, and ended one minute's hasty discourse by saying,—

"But I will tell you what you can do for me. Let me introduce Mr. Walford.' Now