This was an exceedingly pleasant expose for me, to hear of my cousin indulged in every excess of foolish extravagance by his rich uncle, while I, the son of an elder brother who unfortunately called me by his own name, Harry, remained the sub. in a marching regiment, with not three hundred pounds a year above my pay, and whom any extravagance, if such had been proved against me would have deprived of even that small allowance.  My uncle however did not notice the chagrin with which I heard his narrative, but continued to detail various instances of wild and reckless expense the future possessor of his ample property had already launched into.

Anxious to say something without well-knowing what, I hinted that probably my good cousin would reform some of these days, and marry.

“Marry,” said my uncle; “yes, that, I believe, is the best thing we can do with him; and I hope now the matter is in good train—­so the latest accounts say, at least.”

“Ah, indeed,” said I, endeavouring to take an interest where I really felt none—­for my cousin and I had never been very intimate friends, and the differences in our fortunes had not, at least to my thinking, been compensated by any advances which he, under the circumstances, might have made to me.

“Why, Harry, did you not hear of it?” said my uncle.

“No—­not a word, sir.”

“Very strange, indeed—­a great match, Harry—­a very great match, indeed.”

“Some rich banker’s daughter,” thought I.  “What will he say when he hears of my fortune?”

“A very fine young woman, too, I understand—­quite the belle of London —­and a splendid property left by an aunt.”

I was bursting to tell him of my affair, and that he had another nephew, to whom if common justice were rendered, his fortune was as certainly made for life.

“Guy’s business happened this way,” continued my uncle, who was quite engrossed by the thought of his favourite’s success.  “The father of the young lady met him in Ireland, or Scotland, or some such place, where he was with his regiment—­was greatly struck with his manner and address —­found him out to be my nephew—­asked him to his house—­and, in fact, almost threw this lovely girl at his head before they were two months acquainted.”

“As nearly as possible my own adventure,” thought I, laughing to myself.

“But you have not told me who they are, sir,” said I, dying to have his story finished, and to begin mine.

“I’m coming to that—­I’m coming to that.  Guy came down here, but did not tell me one word of his having ever met the family, but begged me to give him an introduction to them, as they were in Paris, where he was going on a short leave; and the first thing I heard of the matter was a letter from the papa, demanding from me if Guy was to be my heir, and asking ‘how far his attentions in his family, met with my approval.’”

“Then how did you know sir that they were previously known to each other?”