“Ridley dines there. He is going to dine with me at a tavern to-day. And Lord Halden is coming — and Mr. Winton is coming — having heard of the famous beefsteaks.”“Winton! Lord Halden! Beefsteaks! Where? By George! I have a mind to go, too! Where do you fellows dine? au cabaret? Hang me, I’ll be one,” shrieked little Twysden, to the terror of Philip, who knew his uncle’s awful powers of conversation. But Twysden remembered himself in good time, and to the intense relief of young Firmin. “Hang me. I forgot! Your aunt and I dine with the Bladeses. Stupid old fellow,the admiral, and bad wine — which is unpardonable; but we must go — on n’a que sa parole, hey? Tell Winton that I had meditated joining him, and that I have still some of that Chateau Margaux he liked.
 

Halden’s father I know well. Tell him so. Bring him here. Maria, send a Thursday card to Lord Halden! You must bring him here to dinner, Philip. That’s the best way to make acquaintance, my boy!” And thelittle man swaggers off, waving a bed-candle, as if he was going to quaff a bumper of sparkling spermaceti.The mention of such great personages as Lord Halden and Mr. Winton silenced the reproofs of the pensive Agnes.“You won’t care for our quiet fireside whilst you live with those fine people, Philip,” she sighed. There was no talk now of his throwing himself away on bad company.So Philip did not dine with his relatives: but Talbot Twysden took good care to let Lord Ringwood know how young Firmin had offered to dine with his aunt that day after refusing his lordship.

And everything to Phil’s discredit, and every act of extravagance or wildness which the young man committed, did Phil’s uncle, and Phil’s cousin Ringwood Twysden, convey to the old nobleman. Had not these been the informers, Lord Ringwood would have been angry; for he exacted obedience and servility from all round about him. But it was pleasanter to vex the Twysdens than to scold and browbeat Philip, and so his lordship chose to laugh and be amused at Phil’s insubordination. He saw, too, other things of which he did not speak. He was a wily old man, who could afford to be .What do you judge from the fact that Philip was ready to make or break engagements at a young lady’s instigation? When you were twenty years old, had no young ladies an influence over you? Were they not commonly older than yourself? Did your youthful passion lead to anything, and are you very sorry now that it did not? Suppose you had had your soul’s wish and married her, of what age would she be now?

And now when you go into the world and see her, do you on your conscience very much regret that the little affair came to an end? Is it that (lean, or fat, or stumpy, or tall) woman with all those children whom you once chose to break your heart about; and do you still envy Jones? Philip was in live with his cousin, no doubt, but at the university had he not been previously in love with the Tomkinsian professor’s daughter, Miss Budd; and had he not already written verses to Miss Flower, his neighbour’s daughter in Old Parr Street? And don’t young men always begin by falling in love with ladies older than themselves? Agnes certainly was Philip’s senior, as her sister constantly took care to inform him.