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arrival at Portsdown was a great boon to Lady Portmore, who was living in a sea of tracasseries and explanations; to all of which he graciously inclined his ear. He delighted in a promising bud of tracasserie, and nursed it into a full-blown flower with all the care that a horticulturist bestows on a cankered yellow rose. He advised sharp letters in one direction, friendly appeals in another, epigrams were suggested here, and bemoanings there; wrongs dressed out, and rights suppressed, till it seemed somehow as if everybody were to blame; and the original petty affront widened into a circle of heart-burnings and coolnesses. He and Lady Portmore were adepts at this game, except that she was all fire and talk, and he all suavity and reason; but between them they made a great deal of mischief. She was now in a state of political transition, which gave great promise of involvements. To Mr. G.'s original offence of neglecting Lord Portmore, he had now added the sin of refusing an appointment to a very disreputable nephew of Lady Portmore's, who had been turned out of both army and navy, and therefore, as she pointedly observed, "Mr. G. must see that as the young man was not fit for the Church, there was nothing for it but to give him a good colonial appointment; he could not starve." Mr. G. asked, "Why not?" and thought a slight course of starvation would perhaps be wholesome; but, at all events, he declined peremptorily giving a good office to a very mauvais sujet. Lady Portmore was affronted. Mr. G. did not care.