Instead of leaving little Robert in peace to study in Mr. Day's apartment, to walk out with this same beloved tutor when the tasks were concluded, to dig with dirty hands in some obscure corner of the shrubbery, and to amass snail-shells, painted stones, and string, in his own way; he was continually forcing him into view, and then reproaching him, if, when thus dragged forth, he did not appear with all the ease, freedom, and propriety, of a jockey of the first rate. "There is lady V—'s carriage," Mr. Lambert would say: "fly, Robert; hand her ladyship through the Hall. But, stop: are your hand's clean ?-Mr. Day, look at the boy's hands. Where is Cox? Where is your valet, Robert? Why did he suffer you to come to breakfast with such hands? O, you have been grubbing for snail-shells! No excuse at all: pity you were not born among the beggars. You never will be a gentleman; you were never intended for a gentleman. You are using your fork, Master Lambert, instead of your spoon. Cox, a spoon for Master Robert: not a large spoon; a dessert-spoon. What! did you never sit down to dinner with gentlemen before?" And then would commonly follow pathetic calls on the butler, the gentleman out of livery, and every footman, in his turn. "Is there no one here who can give Master Lambert a spoon ?-Llewellyn, Burton, John, Thomas,—is it impossible to make interest for a spoon? Not a table-spoon, I beseech you. Does no one here know a dessert-spoon from a table-spoon? Mr. Day, my dear Mr. Day, Î beseech you, do see that the boy does not contract such horrid habits."

In this manner Robert was tutored from day to day, from hour to hour. It is no wonder, then, if the boy's prejudices against his father's peculiarities grew stronger every moment, and if, notwithstanding the counteracting influence of Mr. Day, he still retained his natural roughness and untractability of character.

While things were proceeding thus, an only sister of Mr. Lambert's, the widow of a clergyman, died: leaving a son, about one year younger than Robert, of which son she appointed her brother the guardian, bequeathing the whole of her property, which was something more than three thousand pounds, to his care, for the use of her child.

Mr. Lambert had been fond of his sister, though he had not seen her for many years. As soon, therefore, as he heard of her death, he sent for the child, purposing to educate him with his own son, and to allow his fortune to accumulate for his use against he came of age. He accordingly sent one of his servants for Frederick Falconer; and, as Mr. Day gladly undertook his tuition without an increase of salary, every thing was speedily arranged for the reception of the orphan, while Robert, with pleasure, looked forward to the prospect of having a little companion of his own sex.

Lady V- was in Mr. Lambert's drawing-room, conversing with her brother-in-law on their favourite scheme, which was the marriage of Augusta and Robert, and Mr. Lambert was expressing a hope that Augusta would be enabled to give the polish he so ardently wished to see in her intended husband, the want, however, of which lady V- did not greatly regard, as she felt much rather desirous that her future son-in-law should continue what he was, than be in the least like his father; when the carriage which brought little Falconer drove up to the door.

Robert and Augusta were, at the same time, playing in the hall, from whence they ran with glee into the drawing-room to announce the little stranger.

with

"Bring him in, bring him in," said lady Vvivacity: "let us see what kind of creature he is."" "He is very pretty, mamma," said Augusta, whispering in her mother's ear: "I have seen him."

The servant now appeared, bringing in Frederick, who was dressed in a new suit of deep mourning, with his shirt-frill as white as snow, plaited neatly, and giving an elegant finish to his dress. At the door he bowed, and stood still till desired to approach.

This little boy had been brought up under the eye of a widowed mother, and possessed also in an uncommon degree all those exterior perfections, the want of which had so imbittered the life of Robert Lambert. He was tall for his age, elegantly formed, and, instead of having hair which, like poor Robert's, either stood directly upright like bristles on the back of a certain inelegant quadruped, not to be mentioned in genteel company, or

hung over his forehead in inglorious confusion, was arranged by nature in the most picturesque curls, parted on the brow, and shading the sides of his blooming cheeks. These ringlets were of the darkest and richest auburn, his eyes were deep blue, his eye-lashes long, his features regularly beautiful, and his complexion was fair, though glowing. In short, it was impossible to behold a more graceful or lovely boy than little Frederick Falconer; and when he was introduced to his uncle, there was a mixture of affection and timidity in his manner which was peculiarly captivating, and remarkably adapted to his friendless situation.

"Is he not pretty ?" said Augusta, whispering to her "What is his name?"

mamma.

"Frederick Falconer," replied lady V

“And may I play with him?" asked the little lady, looking upon him as a new and delightful toy. "He is tired now," said lady V

"Are you tired, little Master Frederick ?" said Augus ta, stroking his face with her dimpled hand. "Will you play with me when you have rested?"

The little boy smiled but did not speak.

"And may he come to Clifton ?" said Augusta. "In a few days," replied lady V

"Will you come, Master Frederick, in a few days?" said Augusta, repeating her mother's words, while she held out her hand to him.

The little boy took the offered hand, but at the same moment burst into tears.

"Why do you cry, little Master Frederick ?" said Augusta and she looked at lady V—, as if for an explanation.

V

:

"Why do you shed tears, my little dear?" asked lady

"Because she looks so like my little Emily; and Emily is dead."

"Emily!" repeated Augusta; what Emily?"

"My little sister Emily," said the orphan boy, sobbing; "and Emily is dead."

Augusta could bear no more: her tender bosom swelled, and a gentle colour suffused her whole face; for her feelings had not yet been rendered callous by the cold,

prudential system of a worldly education. Her lovely eyes at the same time became filled with tears, and she hid her face in her mother's bosom.

In the mean time, Robert stood looking on, being touched with the tears of his young companions, and having no apprehension of the consequences which might ensue from the arrival of his handsome little cousin.

Little Frederick was, soon afterwards, sent into Mr. Day's apartment to partake of some refreshments, and thither the two children followed him.

"What a charming boy that is!" said lady V—, as soon as the children were out of hearing; and she ran on for some time in the warmest praises of his beautiful eyes, elegant shape, and gentlemanly air.

In reply to this, Mr. Lambert expressed his regrets that Robert did not resemble him, and concluded by bitter complaints of the awkwardness and ungracefulness of his son and heir.

Lady V answered, as she really felt, that she thought Robert a fine boy, though certainly not so handsome as Frederick. "But what is beauty in a man," she added, “provided he has the manners and sentiments of a gentleman?"

I wish my reader to observe, in this place, that little or nothing has hitherto been said on the necessity of religion to complete the character of a gentleman, or rather, to form the basis of it. But lady V- and Mr. Lambert knew little more of religion than its name; it therefore cannot be supposed that they would enter upon the subject in familiar conversation. Lady V took her leave that evening; and the next morning, Mr. Lambert, his son, and Mr. Day, being at breakfast together, the following conversation took place-little Fredrick Falconer having not yet arisen.

"Mr. Day," said Mr. Lambert, "what do you think of Frederick? He is precisely the style of boy I admire. My sister was happy in having such a son."

Robert was deeply engaged in forming the semblance of the arch of a bridge with a crust of bread when this conversation commenced, and, therefore, did not at first hear a word of what was passing.

Mr. Day answered, that he had seen so little of the

child, that he could form no notion as yet of his character.

But his person, Mr. Day, his person," said Mr. Lambert, (who judged of human beings as he would have done of a piece of silk-by its effect on the eye,) “you must have observed that his person is uncommonly fine?"

At this moment Robert looked up, as if attending to what his father was saying.

"What is person in a child, Sir?" said Mr. Day. "It is a mere accidental circumstance, which is of no consequence either one way or the other."

"I by no means agree with you, Mr. Day," replied Mr. Lambert: "a good person is a letter of recommendation to a man or woman in any company. I wish, Robert, I wish," he added, "you were more like your cousin."

"I am as I was made," said Robert, sullenly, now first feeling the symptoms of dislike to his young relation.

"Not entirely so, Robert," returned Mr. Lambert: 66 you have, by your neglect of good manners, made yourself much inferior to what you were by nature. If you would but hold yourself up, be attentive to strangers, and learn to make a graceful bow when you enter a room, there would not be quite so shocking a contrast between you and your cousin.”

Robert reddened. He seemed inclined to speak; but, observing the eye of his tutor upon him, and understanding its expression, he was silent; yet, endeavouring to do something to hide his embarrassment he took up his dish of scalding tea, and, having filled his mouth as full as it could hold, he was compelled to get rid of the hot liquor, which he could not swallow, by returning it back into his cup, to the great horror of his father, who, rising up, and ringing furiously, exclaimed, "Robert! Robert! you are an incorrigibly low-bred boy! At the moment even when I am speaking to you on the very subject, you are guilty of the most abominable breach of politeness."

"I could not help it, papa, indeed, papa," said the little boy, who was now really frightened; "the tea was so hot."