“ Here is a home for you, Brummell."
"Does Mr. Brummell need a home?" asked Moore, waving his guests to the most comfortable of the chairs.
"Faith, the Beau is better at breaking them than making them," remarked the elder man, with a chuckle.
"Zooks!" drawled Brummell, "that reminds me of an execrable jest of which the Regent was guilty a fortnight ago. 'Why am I like a farmer?' he inquired of Percy Lovelace, who politely confessed that he could detect no resemblance. 'Because,' said his Highness, 'I keep a rake within reach,' and pointed with his monocle at Richard Brinsley." ”

“ Even you, Brooking, bore me at times. Toss me, if I know anything that does not bore me sooner or later."
"Sir Percival," said the younger gentleman, "if I whispered one half that you have said to me in Tom Moore's ear he would choke the life out of you and sink your body in the pond."
"And spoil the drinking water? Well, such treatment as you describe would not bore me at all events. 'T would be exciting, even unpleasant, 't is true, but interesting in the extreme, and anything which is not tedious is worthy of all consideration." ”

“ The youthful Irishman's fondest wish was that he might some day be acknowledged as a beau in no less a place than London itself; a city which dictated fashion to the rest of the kingdom, drawing its own inspiration from the finicky fancy of George Brummell, now at the height of his power as dictator of society.
Farrell flushed with pleasure at Sir Percival's commendation.
"I' faith," he answered, "even in Ireland we are not entirely lacking in taste."
"No, not entirely," observed the baronet. "And the cards, Terence? Does Fortune smile upon you these days?" ”

“ Oh, sir, it means more than life to me. It is my whole future. It's love, it's honor. I beg that you will not use my extremity to drive me to despair. Surely my work is worth as much as it was a week ago when you would have gladly accepted such terms as I offer you now?"
"That is not the question," replied McDermot, coldly. "Ha' the goodness to get out o' my way, Mr. Moore."
Moore seized the publisher by the arm.
"An old man's liberty, perhaps his life; the happiness and good name of a mere girl depend upon me, sir. I have no other way of raising the money. Have pity." ”

“ Believe me, it is with regret I perceive the taint of cynicism in an otherwise charming character."
"Yes, sir," answered Mr. Slink. "Yes, sir. Them is just my own sentiments, but I have a large family, and one that I may say, proudly and truthfully, sir, is on the steady increase."
"My sympathy to you in your misfortune," said Moore, hastily. "Ah, England owes much of her advancement to her noble citizens. It is such men as you make possible the Orphan Asylums, for without the young and deserving what would become of such worthy institutions?" ”

“ I am tempting Bessie with the promise of a place at Old Drury, where, as you know, I am not without influence. Stab me! with her eyes and rosy red cheeks she would need neither paint nor powder to make her an ornament to the boards. Like most clever women, she has ambitions of a histrionic nature. She will come to London, Brooking, and once there!--once there--she is mine, dear lad, she is mine. ”

“ Over her desk, waiting for developments, leaned Mistress Dyke. A moment passed, then the tousled head of the tardy Micky appeared above the level of the bench behind which he had secured shelter after carefully crawling on hands and knees from the door, having by extreme good fortune, made the hazardous journey undetected. Only the fatally unwelcome interest displayed in this performance by the red-headed boy on the front row prevented the success of Micky's strategy. As it was, the blue eyes of Bessie met his with a glance of reproof as he slid noiselessly into his place. ”

“ Thomas Moore, now at the height of his popularity, was overlooked. This was no surprise to the poet, for he had not been deceived by Sir Percival's apparent desire to overlook their past differences. He felt confident that the baronet would not rest content until he had made every effort to undermine the popularity which he had won as much by his personal charm as by the merit of his poetry, yet, seeing no way in which he could be successfully attacked by his old enemy, he grew more confident as weeks passed with no visible effort to injure his prosperity. ”

“ My time for laughing will come later."
"The later the better," said Moore. "He who laughs last laughs best. Delay it as long as you can, and you will enjoy it the more."
"No doubt, Mr. Moore. Good afternoon to you, Mistress Dyke. Sir, I 'm your most obedient."
"Good-day, Sir Percival," said Bessie, dropping a courtesy as the baronet turned again at the door. Then, as his tall figure vanished from the threshold, she faced her lover with a little sigh of relief.
"Tom," she said reprovingly, "you must not speak as you do to Sir Percival. For a little while I feared you would have a real quarrel." ”

“ It is doubtful if a search prosecuted through the entire extent of the United Kingdoms over which the Prince of Wales ruled as Regent would have brought forth a more debonair or contented individual than Sir Percival Lovelace, gentleman, libertine, and chosen comrade of His Royal Highness. In the eyes of this gallant, morals were a mark of ancient barbarism that gentle breeding and a long line of ancestors should be expected to remove or render forgotten. ”

“ We are both young, and the world is all before us. For you, dearest Tom, it holds fame and fortune--"
"Ah, Bessie," he interrupted, "do you think so?"
"There will come a day," she answered, proudly, "when in all Ireland there will be no name so boasted of, so loved and reverenced, as Thomas Moore."
"And yet if this be true, I 'd throw it all away gladly, if by so doing, I 'd be sure of you," Moore answered, sincerity written on his face. "Bessie my darlin', why won't you believe in me? Won't you love me, Bessie? Can't you love me, Bessie, dear?" ”

“ Malone. Buster followed him, and, looking across the undulating surface made by the irregular roofs,--a sort of architectural sea rendered choppy by uplifting ridge-poles and gables of various styles, cut into high waves and low troughs by the dissimilar heights of sundry buildings, with chimneys rising buoy-like from the billowy depths, which in the darkness were blended softly together by the mellowing and connecting shadows,--he saw the figure of a man emerge from the scuttle of a roof perhaps two hundred feet distant. ”

“ Micky looked surprised. That this dashing young blade in whose person were apparently embodied all the manly virtues, at least from the lad's point of view, should stand in dread of such a soft-eyed, red-cheeked little bundle of femininity as his schoolmistress was a matter beyond his juvenile comprehension.
"And why, sir?" asked the boy curiously.
"She 's very pretty," replied Moore. "When you are older you will understand what it is to be in awe of a trim little miss with the blue sky in her eyes and a ripple of red merriment for a mouth. ”

“ You have won, Tom, you have won. Fame, fortune--all that you have dreamed of and fought for so long--so patiently and courageously--shall be yours. I bring you a message from the Prince of Wales."
"From the Prince?" gasped Moore.
"Yes, Tom. He accepts the dedication of your book. Lord Brooking sent me to tell you the news."
"You mean it, Bessie?" cried the half-frantic poet, as the door was sent slamming back by the entrance of Lord Brooking with Buster and the bulldog close at his heels. ”

“ By the way, how is that distinguished philanthropist, Sir Percival Lovelace?"
"You must not sneer at him, Thomas. Bessie and I owe everything to him."
"Never fear. He expects to be paid one way or another," growled Moore, full of suspicions but absolutely lacking in proof.
"Thanks to his influence, my verses are much in demand. No doubt you have seen a number of them published?"
"I have that, and read them eagerly. Ah, you too are getting up in the world, Mr. Dyke."
"I flatter myself it is so," replied the old gentleman pompously. "Shall I speak a word to Sir Percival in your favor, Thomas? ”

“ Taking all things into consideration, Moore had every reason except one to be content with his present lot. That the single disturbing element in his existence was the misunderstanding with Bessie Dyke need scarcely be asserted. They met frequently in society, for, thanks to the influence of Sir Percival, the doors which Moore had pried apart by mighty effort with his pen, had opened in easy welcome to the beautiful young actress, who, though coldly pleasant in her demeanor, made no attempt to conceal her desire to avoid Moore when the opportunity offered. ”

“ Brooking rose from his chair.
"You can repay me easily," he answered, placing his hand upon his protégé's shoulder. "Marry sweet Mistress Bessie and then keep her from Sir Percival. The happiness your wedded life should bring you both will amply reward me for any effort I may make in your behalf. If the Prince permits me to dedicate your book to him the publishers will fight for the privilege of printing it and your fortune is made, Tom Moore."
"But we have quarrelled," said Moore, hopelessly.
"Capital!" cried his lordship. "No woman tiffs with a man to whom she is indifferent. ”

“ You have the benefit of my popularity in the social world. Surely for a young and unknown Irishman to be comparatively intimate with the Prince's own set is an honor? You don't know when you are well off, my young misanthrope."
"That is as it may be," said Farrell, not at all impressed by his patron's eulogy of the advantage afforded him by his present situation.
"But," said Sir Percival knowingly, "think what an education for a young and ambitious beau a close and personal study of George Brummell must of necessity be. ”

“ Moore's voice died away melodiously in the last plaintive note.
"A very pretty song, Mr. Moore. It tells a beautiful story and points a splendid moral," said Lord Brooking.
"Yes, my lord," answered Moore, glancing toward Bessie. "It shows the folly of a poor girl in believing aught told her by a nobleman. It is as true nowadays as it was then."
"Oh, Tom," said the girl, tremulously. "It is beautiful. Is it not, Sir Percival?"
"Oh, very, very," replied the baronet. "Extremely so. I congratulate you, Mr. Moore."
"Have you reason to do so, Sir Percival?" asked Moore. ”

“ As Moore extemporized he laid his hand insinuatingly upon the landlady's muscular arm, but she threw it off roughly as he finished.
"You can't plaster me, Tom Moore," she declared, loudly.
Buster and Lord Castlereagh retired to a safe distance and watched proceedings with eager eyes.
"Plaster you?" repeated Moore, meditatively, then suddenly laying hands upon her, he twirled the old lady gently around. "Why should I plaster you when nature has covered your laths so nicely?"
"Don't touch me, you young divil," Mrs. Malone ejaculated. "How dare you take such liberties?" ”

“ Brooking's anger and disgust refused to be longer pent up beneath his calm, almost indifferent, demeanor.
"What a low scoundrel you are!" he ejaculated, much to Sir Percival's surprise. The baronet for a moment regarded him quizzically, as though suspicious that this uncomplimentary description of his character was intended as a humorous remark, but seeing severity in his lordship's face, he smiled pleasantly and refused to take offence.
"Don't be so serious, old cock," he drawled. "Earnestness is so tiresome. Ah, life at its best bores me. ”

“ Meanwhile Bessie had rescued Dicky from his grief and apprehension, and, when the curly-headed youth had had his nose blown and resumed his seat, school assumed its wonted quiet until the sight of a tiny mouse nibbling a bit of cracker under an unoccupied bench drew forth a scream of terror from Milly, who considered herself entitled by age to the enjoyment of all the follies peculiar to her sex. ”

“ Moore shook his head and held the ruffle behind him.
"Give it to me, sir," exclaimed the girl indignantly.
"It is the foam on the wave of loveliness," declared the poet, waving his prize as though it were a pennant, but carefully keeping it out of Bessie's reach.
"You cannot have it, sir," she said, sternly.
"Women are enveloped in mystery," he continued, quite unrebuked, "yards of it. If there is anything I love, it is mystery, so I 'll keep this for myself." ”

“ An honest man's love is not to be scorned even when it's in short breeches," said Moore, reprovingly. "So it is jealousy that is at the bottom of this quarrel? Faith, I 'll settle it right here. Neither of you lads shall have Milly. I 'll marry her myself."
"All right," said Milly, cocking her eye at Bessie, "if teacher has no objection, I haven't."
"What an idea!" ejaculated the schoolmistress, descending from her desk. "Tom, how can you talk such nonsense?"
"Don't mind her, Milly. It's only jealousy," said Moore. "Boys, this fight is postponed till after hours." ”

“ This worthy gentleman regarded Moore with a keenness that seemed to the poet to penetrate and to coldly scrutinize his troubled mind, for Moore was ever a poor hand at dissimulation and bore on his unusually cheery countenance only too plainly the mark of the mental anxiety he was now enduring.
"Weel, Mr. Moore, what can I do for ye, sair?"
"Sir," said Moore, trying to hide his eagerness, "I have been thinking over the proposition you made a week ago at the instigation of Lord Lansdowne." ”