THE HARCOURTS. 25 



care for a couple of days, he will soon bring you round 



aga: n." 



" Well, I hope so, Will ; but old bones won't stand bruising 

 like young ones ; and you know I am old enough to be your 

 father, although still strong and heart-whole." 



"You went like a man of five-and-twenty yesterday," 

 observed Beauchamp. 



" Yes, yes, when hounds run, I must be with them ; but now 

 sit down a moment, and tell me about these Harcourts, where 

 you are going this evening. Your father does not seem to 

 fancy them, I see ; and the heiress, who is she ? " 



"Mr. Harcourt is no fox-hunter," replied Beauchamp, 

 4 ' but of good family — very fond of money — in short, a bit of a 

 Nabob ; and, being of different politics, he and my father don't 

 quite suit each other." 



" I should be surprised if they did," remarked Sir Francis. 



"Mrs. Harcourt is rather a fine lady too — fond of dress, 

 fond of company, very agreeable, and still handsome — younger 

 by ten years than her husband, who owns to fifty." 



" Any family 1 " inquired Sir Francis. 



" None whatever." 



" Now the heiress, what of her 1 " 



" She is in her seventeenth year, or thereabout, rather tall, 

 but of a well-proportioned figure, of most pleasing and expres- 

 sive, though not strikingly handsome, features, yet a very lovely 

 girl, affectionate and lively in disposition, not in the least 

 affected or conceited, and, should she live to the age of twenty- 

 one, will inherit all her father's property in Scotland, at least 

 ten thousand a-year, besides what her uncle and guardian, Mr. 

 Harcourt, may choose to leave her. She has also an aunt on 

 her father's side, Mrs. Gordon, living at the priory, whose late 

 husband, dying in India, left her all his property ; and she has 

 neither chick nor child." 



" Upon my word, Beauchamp," replied Sir Francis, " this 

 Miss Douglas won't want suitors by the dozen. Why, William, 

 that ten thousand per annum would help to keep the pack going." 



Beauchamp shook his head, saying, "It won't do, Sir 

 Francis." 



" And why not, sir 1 " 



" Because, of the many bad names the world may give me, a 

 fortune-hunter sha'n't be one." 



" Pshaw, Beauchamp ! all that is trash ; what is the world 

 to you 1 " 



