66 They were all in statu quo,” said Lord Emery, "with my two wise brothers-in-law, and three squalling imps, in addition to the society." "You cannot imagine how happy we were to get back to town," said Lady Emery; "it rained almost the whole time we were at Roe Park, and was so dull, you can have no idea of it." Lord Emery insisted upon Moreland's dining with them at their hotel. "Do come," said Lady Emery, "or I shall think you are still angry with me for having changed my mind, and taken Emery." Moreland was surprised at her want of delicacy, in alluding to what he looked upon as a most fortunate event for himself; but assured her, with perfect truth, and perhaps rather in a more careless and pointed manner than she thought perfectly consistent with the laws of politeness, that he retained no feelings whatever upon the subject, but those of perfect indifference. He dined with them, but left them at an early hour, as they were going to the Opera, from thence to Lady Stickem's rout, and to finish the labours of the day at Almack's. This unexpected meeting again called Moreland's attention to Roe Park and its inhabitants, and excited and renewed in him strong desires of going thither in person; but, as we mentioned before, his uncle's helplessness, and total dependence upon him, was so great, that though all delicacies were now removed with regard to the Emerys, he could not think of even a temporary absence from him in his present infirm and delicate state of health. The physicians, at a loss for any remedy to cure old age, advised him to try some of the wateringplaces, as much for change of scene, as from any expected benefit from the waters. Moreland, therefore, gave all his new-sprung wishes to the winds, set off with Sir Thomas and an old faithful servant to Brighton, from which, if a miracle of perfect health was not performed in a fortnight, they were recommended to proceed and make trial of the celebrated waters of the Chelt, in the town of Cheltenham. CHAPTER XV. Each fluttering hope, each anxious fear, CONDER. WHILE Moreland and his uncle are enjoying what Dr Johnson reckoned the greatest of sensual pleasures-rolling rapidly in a carriage over a smooth road from place to place-I must endeavour to transport the reader's imagination once more to Roe Park, where Sir Philip Hum was still laying silent siege to Lady Amelia, by means of repeated acts of charity and benevolence, which he always contrived should be conveyed, as if by accident, to her knowledge. He found himself, however, much at a loss, when he attempted to talk what he called evangelical slang, and at length became aware that his only chance of safety consisted in declining all conversation on the subject, under pretence of its being much too sacred for common conversation. Dr Spleen Harris's passing thoughts of Lady Amelia lasted only a few days; he saw that there would be a necessity for playing a part, for which exertion he was not sufficiently in love, even if his · principles had permitted the attempt. Indeed, Dr Spleen Harris was rather sceptical as to the passion of love; he did not agree with the author of the Sketch-Book in thinking, "That however the surface of character may be chilled and frozen by the cares of the world, or cultivated into mere smiles by the arts of society, still there are dormant fires lurking in the depths of the coldest bosom, which, when once enkindled, become impetuous, and are sometimes desolating in their effects." But Sir Philip Hum's awkward attempts to be good, and his ostentatious displays of benevolence, did not escape his sarcastic eye, 'though the motives that prompted Sir Philip's conduct he never once suspected. That gentleman, however, entertained fears, that the jokes of Dr Spleen Harris, if not put a stop to, might prove detrimental to his plans; he, therefore, thought it more prudent to make a merit of necessity, to admit him into his confidence, and bind him over to become an accomplice in the deception. Dr Spleen Harris was rejoiced to think, that, after all her disappointments, such a piece of good fortune awaited Lady Amelia; and entered into the scheme with a zeal for which Sir Philip Hum expressed the warmest gratitude-" You must begin now to give her some little unsuspicious-looking present," said Dr Spleen Harris," a good print of the Bishop of Gloucester, for instanceWrite to London for all the saints' heads as fast as you can. In Edinburgh you can get A. T..... n, Sir H. M... ... ff, Mr G..y, and Dr G.... n. Even I....g, with his squint, must not be left out; she has, I see, all the editions of C......8 already. If this first attempt takes, the week after you may give her the lay saints, H. K..ke Wh. te, Wilberforce, and others of the fraternity. Then, I think, you might mention some nonsense about your own heart; but do nothing without consulting me, else you'll do wrong." Sir Philip Hum was perfectly aware of the sarcastic, ludicrous view, his associate (for he could not call him friend) took of most things; he, therefore, was well aware, that in following out his hints, much delicacy, or tact, or finesse, or whatever it may be called, was necessary to be observed. But the prints in question were procured and given in such a manner, that they were very graciously accepted, much to the amusement of Dr Spleen Harris, who, as usual, looked on, seemed very innocent, and indulged a faculty he pos |