Here the lad found himself in the midst of a circle where everything about him was incomparably gayer, brighter and more free.  He was living with a man and woman who had seen the world, though they lived retired from it, and one of the benefits which Harry Warrington received from this family was to begin to learn that he was a profoundly ignorant young fellow.  He admired his brother at home faithfully, of his kinsman at Castlewood he had felt himself at least the equal.  In Colonel Lambert he found a man who had read far more books than Harry could pretend to judge of, and who had goodness and honesty written on his face and breathing from his lips.

As for the women, they were the kindest, merriest, most agreeable he had ever known.  Here was a tranquil, sunshiny day of a life that was to be agitated and stormy.  He was not in love, either with saucy Hetty or generous Theodosia:  but when the time came for going away, he fastened on both their hands, and felt an immense regard for them.

“He is very kind and honest,” said Theo gravely as they watched him and their father riding away.

“I am glad he has got papa to ride with him to Westerham,” said little Hetty.  “I don’t like his going to those Castlewood people.  I am sure that Madam Bernstein is a wicked old woman.  I expected to see her ride away on her crooked stick.  The other old woman seemed fond of him.  She looked very melancholy when she went away, but Madam Bernstein whisked her off with her crutch, and she was obliged to go.”

III.—­Harry Warrington is Disinherited

Our young Virginian found himself after a few days at Tunbridge Wells by far the most important personage in the place.  The story of his wealth had been magnified, and his winnings at play, which were considerable, were told and calculated at every tea-table.  The old aunt Bernstein enjoyed his triumphs, and bade him pursue his enjoyments.  As for Lady Maria, though Harry Warrington knew she was as old as his mother, he had given her his word to marry her at Castlewood, and, as he said, “A Virginian Esmond has but his word!”

Madam Bernstein offered her niece L5,000 to free Mr. Warrington of his engagement but the offer was declined, and a few weeks later Lady Maria returned to Castlewood, while Harry went to London.  He knew that his mother, who was mistress for life of the Virginian property, would refuse her consent to his marriage, and the thought of it was put off to a late period.  Meanwhile it hung like a weight round the young man’s neck.

No wonder that his spirits rose more gaily as he came near London.  He took lodgings in Bond Street and lived upon the fat of the land.  His title of Fortunate Youth, bestowed upon him because of his luck at cards, was prettily recognised.  But after a few weeks of lavish success, the luck turned and he lost heavily:  the last blow was after a private game at piquet with his kinsman Lord Castlewood.  Harry Warrington had now drawn and spent all his patrimony, and one evening when he was leaving the house of his uncle Sir Miles Warrington,—­his dead father’s elder brother,—­two bailiffs took him for a debt of L500 and the Fortunate Youth was lodged in a sponging house in Chancery Lane.