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He did not quarrel with Rowland's profusion, for his own revenues were ample; but he did object to the large sums lavished by him in the service of a faction he was resolved not to support. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. “We parted— that night the best of friends. "My worst fears are realized. There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship.

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