262 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. 



"Miss Who, Charles?" 



" Winterbottom, my lady mother — the great brewer's 

 daughter." 



" Goodness, what a name ! " exclaimed Lady Malcolm in 

 amazement. 



" Yes ; just fancy the electrical effect of such a name being 

 passed up from flunkey to flunkey on one of our grand reception 

 nights ! why, my dear mother, the cry of ' the roof on fire ' in a 

 crowded theatre, would be nothing in comparison to the con- 

 sternation created among your aristocratic friends by such an 

 announcement, who would rush down-stairs without waiting for 

 their carriages." 



" Indeed, I could never receive such people in my house ; 

 but surely William Beauchamp does not seriously think of 

 marrying this girl ? " 



" No saying, my dear mother ; she is a pretty, fascinating, 

 artful little hussy." 



"Then, Charles, write directly, and ask him to come up 

 without delay, as I know the very person to suit him, a rich 

 young widow, just five-and-twenty, very handsome, agreeable, 

 and pleasing in manners, with eight thousand a year at her 

 own disposal; and Beauchamp is the very person she would 

 fall in love with, as she dislikes her present set of admirers, all 

 being too foppish or fashionable for her ideas of a husband ; in 

 fact she declared to me the other day, the character she would 

 select would be a manly, unaffected person, of firm principles- 

 and unblemished reputation, whom she could respect as well 

 as love." 



" Well, then, Blanche, your old playmate, Will Beauchamp, 

 is the very man to suit her — don't you think so, my dear ? " 



" I really cannot say, Charles," she replied, very shortly. 



"At any rate, pray write to-morrow," resumed Lady 

 Malcolm, " and save him from the brewery ; — Beauchamp 

 Winterbottom, and Co. ! this would be dreadful." 



"It shall be done, my dear mother, if you particularly 

 desire it ; but Will Beauchamp is a very obstinate, perverse 

 young fellow ; and if he has set his affections on Miss Honoria 

 or any other young lady " — with a smile at Blanche — " all the- 

 widows in London won't turn him." 



The announcement of dinner was a reprieve to poor Blanche, 

 who dreaded lest her cousin's raillery might lead Lady Malcolm 

 to suspect her attachment to Beauchamp, as the Harcourts, who 

 had just arrived in London, would of course be frequent visitors- 



