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Rh plenty of money. The blood had come naturally to this young man; but it behoved him to look for the money in a great measure himself. She, Lady de Courcy, could doubtless help him; she might probably be able to fit him with a wife who would bring her money to match his birth. His reading was a matter in which she could in no way assist him: whether his taste might lead him to prefer books or pictures, or dogs and horses, or turnips in drills, or old Italian plates and dishes, was a matter which did not much signify; with which it was not at all necessary that his noble aunt should trouble herself.

'Oh! you are to go to Cambridge again, are you? Well, if your father wishes it;—though very little is ever gained now by a university connection.'

'I am to take my degree in October, aunt; and I am determined, at any rate, that I won't be plucked.'

'Plucked!'

'No; I won't be plucked. Baker was plucked last year, and all because he got into the wrong set at John's. He's an excellent fellow if you knew him. He got among a set of men who did nothing but smoke and drink beer. Malthusians, we call them.'

'Malthusians!'

'"Malt," you know, aunt, and "use;" meaning that they drink beer. So poor Harry Baker got plucked. I don't know that a fellow's any the worse; however, I won't get plucked.'

By this time the party had taken their place round the long board, Mr. Gresham sitting at the top, in the place usually occupied by the Lady Arabella. She, on the present occasion, sat next to her son on the one side, as the countess did on the other. If, therefore, Frank now went astray, it would not be from want of proper leading.

'Aunt, will you have some beef?' said he, as soon as the soup and fish had been disposed of, anxious to perform the rites of hospitality now for the first time committed to his charge.

'Do not be in a hurry, Frank,' said his mother; 'the servants will—'

'Oh! ah! I forgot; there are cutlets and those sort of things. My hand is not in yet for this work, aunt. Well, as I was saying about Cambridge—'

'Is Frank to go back to Cambridge, Arabella?' said the countess to her sister-in-law, speaking across her nephew.

'So his father seems to say.'

'Is it not waste of time?' asked the countess.

'You know I never interfere,' said the Lady Arabella; 'I never liked the idea of Cambridge myself, at all. All the De