“Oh!” said Mrs. Wilson with a laugh, “Emily knew that ten days ago.  Could your friend tell us anything of Bonaparte?  We are much interested in his movements just now.”

Mr. Haughton, a good deal mortified to find his news stale, mused a moment, as if in doubt to proceed or not; but liking of all things to act the part of a newspaper, he continued—­

“Nothing more than you see in the prints; but I suppose your ladyship has heard about Captain Jarvis too?”

“Why, no,” said Emily, laughing; “the movements of Captain Jarvis are not quite as interesting to me as those of Lord Pendennyss—­has the duke made him an aide-de-camp?”

“Oh! no,” cried the other, exulting at his having something new:  “as soon as he heard of the return of Boney, he threw up his commission and got married.”

“Married!” cried John; “not to Miss Harris, surely.”

“No; to a silly girl he met in Cornwall, who was fool enough to be caught with his gold lace.  He married one day, and the next told his disconsolate wife and panic-stricken mother that the honor of the Jarvises must sleep until the supporters of the name became sufficiently numerous to risk them in the field of battle.”

“And how did Mrs. Jarvis and Sir Timo’s lady relish the news?” inquired John, expecting something ridiculous.

“Not at all,” rejoined Mr. Haughton; “the former sobbed, and said she had only married him for his bravery and red coat, and the lady exclaimed against the destruction of his budding honors.”

“How did it terminate?” asked Mrs. Wilson.

“Why, it seems while they were quarrelling about it, the War-Office cut the matter short by accepting his resignation, I suppose the commander-in-chief had learned his character; but the matter was warmly contested:  they even drove the captain to a declaration of his principles.”

“And what kind of ones might they have been, Haughton?” said Sir Edward, drily.

“Republican.”

“Republican!” exclaimed two or three in surprise.

“Yes, liberty and equality, he contended, were his idols, and he could not find it in his heart to fight against Bonaparte.”

“A somewhat singular conclusion,” said Mr. Benfield, musing.  “I remember when I sat in the House, there was a party who were fond of the cry of this said liberty; but when they got the power they did not seem to me to suffer people to go more at large than they went before; but I suppose they were diffident of telling the world their minds after they were put in such responsible stations, for fear of the effect of example.”

“Most people like liberty as servants but not as masters, uncle,” cried John, with a sneer.

“Captain Jarvis, it seems, liked it as a preservative against danger,” continued Mr. Haughton; “to avoid ridicule in his new neighborhood, he has consented to his father’s wishes, and turned merchant in the city again.”