The Amateur Gentleman

Now, as for you and Natty Bell, it is with deep affection that I

think of you--an affection that shall abide with me always. Also,

you are both in my thoughts continually. I remember our bouts with

the 'muffles,' and my wild gallops on unbroken horses with Natty Bell;

surely he knows a horse better than any, and is a better rider than

boxer, if that could well be. Indeed, I am fortunate in having

studied under two such masters.

Furthermore, I pray you to consider that this absence of mine will

only draw us closer together, in a sense. Indeed, now, when I think

of you both, I am half-minded to give up this project and come back

to you. But my destiny commands me, and destiny must be obeyed.

Therefore I shall persist unto the end; but whether I succeed or no,

remember, I pray of you, that I am always, Your lover and friend, Barnabas.

P.S.--Regarding the friend of the Prince Regent, I could wish now

that I had struck a little harder, and shall do so next time, should

the opportunity be given.

B.

Having finished this letter, in which it will be seen he made no

mention of the Lady Cleone, though his mind was yet full of her,

having finished his letter I say, Barnabas sanded it, folded it,

affixed wafers, and had taken up his pen to write the superscription,

when he was arrested by a man's voice speaking in a lazy drawl, just

outside the open lattice behind him.

"Now 'pon my soul and honor, Beatrix--so much off ended virtue for a

stolen kiss--begad! you were prodigal of 'em once--"

"How-dare you! Oh, coward that you are!" exclaimed another voice,

low and repressed, yet vibrant with bitter scorn; "you know that I

found you out--in time, thank God!"

"Beatrix?" said Barnabas to himself.

"In time; ah! and pray who'd believe it? You ran away from me--but

you ran away with me--first! In time? Did your father believe it,

that virtuous old miser? would any one, who saw us together, believe

it? No, Beatrix, I tell you all the world knows you for my--"

"Stop!" A moment's silence and then came a soft, gently amused laugh.

"Lord, Beatrix, how handsome you are!--handsomer than ever, begad!

I'm doubly fortunate to have found you again. Six years is a long

time, but they've only matured you--ripened you. Yes, you're

handsomer than ever; upon my life and soul you are!"

But here came the sudden rush of flying draperies, the sound of swift,

light footsteps, and Barnabas was aware of the door behind him being

opened, closed and bolted, and thereafter, the repressed sound of a

woman's passionate weeping. Therefore he rose up from the settle, and

glancing over its high back, beheld Clemency.