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genuous youth’s spirits, and no word of yea or nay could he
be induced to utter during the rest of the drive.
On his return he found his room prepared, and his port-
manteau ready, and might have remarked that Mr. Bowls’s
countenance, when the latter conducted him to his apart-
ments, wore a look of gravity, wonder, and compassion.
But the thought of Mr. Bowls did not enter his head. He
was deploring the dreadful predicament in which he found
himself, in a house full of old women, jabbering French and
Italian, and talking poetry to him. ‘Reglarly up a tree, by
jingo!’ exclaimed the modest boy, who could not face the
gentlest of her sex—not even Briggs—when she began to
talk to him; whereas, put him at Iffley Lock, and he could
out-slang the boldest bargeman.
At dinner, James appeared choking in a white neckcloth,
and had the honour of handing my Lady Jane downstairs,
while Briggs and Mr. Crawley followed afterwards, conduct-
ing the old lady, with her apparatus of bundles, and shawls,
and cushions. Half of Briggs’s time at dinner was spent in
superintending the invalid’s comfort, and in cutting up
chicken for her fat spaniel. James did not talk much, but he
made a point of asking all the ladies to drink wine, and ac-
cepted Mr. Crawley’s challenge, and consumed the greater
part of a bottle of champagne which Mr. Bowls was ordered
to produce in his honour. The ladies having withdrawn, and
the two cousins being left together, Pitt, the ex-diplomatist,
be came very communicative and friendly. He asked after
James’s career at college—what his prospects in life were—
hoped heartily he would get on; and, in a word, was frank

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