Harry, of course, begged that the old lady would not think of such an event, and declared himself ready to enter some profession, by which he might make himself independent of the expected fortunes of his friends. He thought that he might like the law.
Life in London and in dusty chambers was not exactly what he had been accustomed to, but still, where an important object was to be gained, he was ready to submit to anything. Lady Tryon laughed at the notion. He might certainly eat his dinners at the Inns of Court and live in dusty chambers, but as to making anything by so doing, the idea was preposterous. A young fellow like him, of good family and presentable appearance, must marry an heiress. He was fit for that, and nothing else.
Harry saw that there was no use discussing the matter with his grandmother. He resolved, however, to talk it over with his guardian as soon as they met. He saw that the old lady had some project in her head, which she had resolved to keep secret from him. It must be confessed, he was very glad when her ladyship rang for Betsy Frizzle, and retired to her room. They arrived next day late in the evening at Lady Tryons house, in the middle of Street.
Harry set off the next day to visit Mr Roger Kyffin, of Hampstead. He found that the coach ran twice in the day to that far-distant suburb. It was a pleasant drive, among green fields, here and there a smiling villa, but otherwise with few buildings. Mr Kyffin had not come back from the city when Harry arrived, but his careful housekeeper received him with every attention, and insisted on his partaking of some of her preserves and home-made wine, just to give him an appetite for supper, as of course her master always dined in London.
At last Mr Kyffin arrived. He was much pleased with Harrys appearance. They spent a very pleasant evening. Harry could not help contrasting the conversation of his guardian with that of his grandmother the man of business, so unworldly, and with a heart so full of warm affection, anxious for the welfare of his fellow-creatures, while the old lady with one foot in the grave was truly of the earth earthy. Harry did not exactly say as much as this to himself, but he felt it, notwithstanding. Roger Kyffin was very much pleased to hear of Harrys wish to enter a profession. I would not have you decide in a hurry, he said, and you must consider for what you are best fitted. You know that I, as far as I have the power, will help you to the utmost on that you may depend. Further than that, Harry, I dont wish to bias you. Harry slept at Mr Kyffins, a pretty little cottage, and accompanied him the next day back to London. He found that the mornings hung somewhat heavily on his hands; the evenings, too, were not spent in a way particularly agreeable to him, as Lady Tryon insisted on his accompanying her to the routs and other parties she frequented. He had a dislike to cards, and could never learn to play, so she had not insisted on his joining her, but she spent the whole of the evening at the card-table. He saw, however, from the piles of gold placed before her that she was playing high; how high he could not tell; but very often she returned home in an unusually bad humour, when he found it safer to keep silence than to attempt any conversation with her.
At this time, ladies of fashion, as well as gentlemen, were fearfully addicted to the vice of gambling. The law was doing its utmost to put down public hells, but it was unable in general to stop the practice in private houses, in consequence of the difficulty of obtaining evidence.
One evening Lady Tryon had been at the house of the Countess of Buckinghamshire, to which Harry had, very unwillingly, been compelled to accompany her. As usual, gambling went on, a gentleman of fashion keeping the faro-table. Harry saw by the expression of his grandmothers countenance that she was a heavy loser. The more she lost, the higher stakes she seemed inclined to play for.
Let the old lady have her way, he heard a gentleman near whom he was standing observe, a little bleeding will do her no harm.
The Countesss handsome rooms were full of people of rank and fashion. Tables were scattered about on each side with eager players, some engaged in cards, others casting the dice, while others stood round staking considerable sums on the turn of a card or throw of the ivory. All of them seemed brought together by one absorbing passion, which they shared with the stockbrokers of Change Alley and the frequenters of the lowest hells. A few like Harry might have been compelled to go there against their will young daughters to attend their mothers, who were leading them into vice, and a few like Harry who had no money to stake. As he looked at the group of excited beings with sparkling eyes, the rouge cheeks of the ladies, with here and there a black patch to hide a blemish, or to set off the fairness of their skins; the haggard faces of the men, with their perukes pushed on one side, their lips puckered, pressed close together, many of them holding the cards with