1829.] Spoiled Children. 619 
lately made a match with the Hon. Mr. Wingpigeon, and, presuming on 
the reputation acquired in the precincts of Finsbury, had staked a cool 
thousand on the issue, which the noble destroyer of doves very shortly 
brought down in bills at six months. 
“ Very well,” said Sir Peter, when he was made acquainted with his 
son’s exploit—<* I had fixed just that sum for his education at Oxford: I 
perceive that it is already finished—-Here, Lady Pimento, is a cheque 
for the trifle, as you are pleased to consider it:—if I had many such 
sons, such trifles would soon make me a broken merchant.” A lucky 
speculation, the next day, restored the worthy knight to his usual placid 
state ; and he began, philosophically, to consider children as a sort of 
commercial venture, which might turn out fortunate, pay the outfit, and 
reward the underwriters for the risk ; or the reverse—just as “ the Fates 
and Sisters three, and such like destinies,” decreed. 
It was at this epoch that Lady P. was struck with the discovery that - 
it was high time the interesting and accomplished Amarantha should be 
brought out. Her father listened, in his usual serene way, to the sug- 
gestions of her lady mother; and, as he dared not demur, the thing was 
set about with becoming spirit ; and routs, balls, and, to complete all, 
a morning concert, made Portland-place one universal chaos of carriages, 
company, and confusion. The young lady was, indeed, brought out to 
some purpose ; for, at the close of the morning-concert, she was disco- 
vered to be missing, and no one knew how ; but a polite note, left on 
her dressing-table, informed her expectant parents that she had gone the 
way of all runaway young ladies—via Gretna Green ; the companion of 
her flight being the Signor Soprano, who had conferred on the concert 
the honour of his voice. Sir: Peas stared, and looked puzzled, as well 
he might, and Lady P., for once, seemed baffled and confounded. 
« This is one of the consequences of teaching a merchant’s daughter 
the trills and tricks of an opera-singer !” said Sir Peter, with a groan :-— 
“« Lady P., I hope you are satisfied with her choice, and gratified by this 
result of your precepts?” Lady P. did not look as if she was ; but there 
was no knowing, for Signor Soprano was one of Lady P.’s “ dear 
creatures.” 
“ Surely every thing that could tend to deprive a father of pride and 
comfort in his children, has happened to me!” sighed out the merchant, 
as he stepped out of doors, on his way to the City : but he had reckoned 
without his ledger, as will be hereafter seen. However, to throw a little 
sunshine over that hour of unhappiness to the father, the merchant 
received the news of the safe arrival of “ the good ship Amarantha,” 
with a fine cargo, “all well.” 
« Ah!” sighed Sir Peter, “‘ the winds and waves are more obedient 
to my wishes, than my children!” With a lighter heart he transacted 
the business of the day, and returned home at five. A mob was about 
the dodr: a cabriolet broken, and a beautiful bay bleeding at the knees, 
told what had happened. Herushed in: Lady P. met him at the stair- 
foot.—* Oh, Sir Peter! Sir Peter!” exclaimed she, and fainted. 
« What new horror have I next to endure?”” demanded the anxious 
father, as his usual healthy hue forsook his face. It was explained to 
him, as tenderly as possible, that, whilst Mr. Alfred was “ airing” 
Mademoiselle Pirouette, the Opera-dancer—with whom, it then came 
out, he had “ an affair of the heart’—the bay, being high-bred, had 
taken fright at the red coat and wooden legs of a Chelsea pensioner, near 
4K 2 
