The family of this Master Todd were hangers-on of the house of Osborne.

The old gentleman had advanced Todd from being a clerk to be a junior

partner in his establishment.

Mr. Osborne was the godfather of young Master Todd (who in subsequent

life wrote Mr. Osborne Todd on his cards and became a man of decided

fashion), while Miss Osborne had accompanied Miss Maria Todd to the

font, and gave her protegee a prayer-book, a collection of tracts, a

volume of very low church poetry, or some such memento of her goodness

every year. Miss O. drove the Todds out in her carriage now and then;

when they were ill, her footman, in large plush smalls and waistcoat,

brought jellies and delicacies from Russell Square to Coram Street.

Coram Street trembled and looked up to Russell Square indeed, and Mrs.

Todd, who had a pretty hand at cutting out paper trimmings for haunches

of mutton, and could make flowers, ducks, &c., out of turnips and

carrots in a very creditable manner, would go to "the Square," as it

was called, and assist in the preparations incident to a great dinner,

without even so much as thinking of sitting down to the banquet. If

any guest failed at the eleventh hour, Todd was asked to dine. Mrs.

Todd and Maria came across in the evening, slipped in with a muffled

knock, and were in the drawing-room by the time Miss Osborne and the

ladies under her convoy reached that apartment--and ready to fire off

duets and sing until the gentlemen came up. Poor Maria Todd; poor

young lady! How she had to work and thrum at these duets and sonatas

in the Street, before they appeared in public in the Square!

Thus it seemed to be decreed by fate that Georgy was to domineer over

everybody with whom he came in contact, and that friends, relatives,

and domestics were all to bow the knee before the little fellow. It

must be owned that he accommodated himself very willingly to this

arrangement. Most people do so. And Georgy liked to play the part of

master and perhaps had a natural aptitude for it.

In Russell Square everybody was afraid of Mr. Osborne, and Mr. Osborne

was afraid of Georgy. The boy's dashing manners, and offhand rattle

about books and learning, his likeness to his father (dead unreconciled

in Brussels yonder) awed the old gentleman and gave the young boy the

mastery. The old man would start at some hereditary feature or tone

unconsciously used by the little lad, and fancy that George's father

was again before him. He tried by indulgence to the grandson to make

up for harshness to the elder George. People were surprised at his

gentleness to the boy. He growled and swore at Miss Osborne as usual,

and would smile when George came down late for breakfast.




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