"Yes," said I, "I am deucedly sorry he is." "Are you?" said Daly; "that won't do,— no, my dear Gilbert, I have heard the storyhappen to know, as Hull says-never tell me that a man can be sorry for a fellow who is likely to stand in his way-nine to six❞—still playing on. "I once knew a man, and a capital fellow too, who was in remainder to a title and a fortune, with nobody between, but a consumptive cousin of five years old-eleven to six --and what d'ye think he did, Sniggs?"

"Can't say," said Sniggs.

"Goes to the family apothecary—two more, that's thirteen-and says, 'what a fine healthy boy that Ferdinand Alphonso is !'

66 6

Healthy!' cries the apothecary; sickly,

you mean?"

"On the contrary,' cries the heir-presumptive, I mean healthy.'

The apothecary shook his head.

"Well,' said the heir-presumptive, I tell you what I'll do you attend him constantly, and ought to know—but I'll bet you a thousand

guineas to one he is alive this day twelvemonth.'

"The doctor jumped at the bet, and before six months were over, the Baron Ferdinand Alphonso was settled all safe and snug in the family vault, and the heir presumptive in full possession."

"Do you mean to say”—

said Sniggs.

"Nothing," replied Daly; "only that the medical man was the best judge, and was quite right in backing his opinion. Now, if Tom,— what d'ye call your invalid connexion ?—were to fall in with a medical man, who entertained so bad an opinion of his case, I should saypsha! that's a miss-score one-I should say betting the castor out would be very pretty sport."

Wells looked somewhat surprised, and Sniggs appeared extremely indignant.

"La," said Daly, "medical matters are often brought to bettings. Did you never hear the story of the fit and the bleeding-it's as old as the Hills-not the Hulls-eh-Gilbert ?"

"Not to my knowledge," said I.

"Gad, Sir," said Daly, "Will Witley, an old friend of mine, was standing one day at the window at White's, and down he fell in a fit, as flat as a flounder. Sir Harry Liptrap offered three hundred to two that he would die. Done,' said Lord Bendamere. Done,' cried Liptrap. And done and done it was. The nearest apo

thecary had been sent for on the instant:-in he came post-haste-looked at Will-and whipped out his lancet in the twinkling of an eye-

"Mind what you are at, Sir,' said Sir Harry to the doctor; if you bleed that gentleman, and he recovers, you'll pay my three hundred to Lord Bendamere. I backed Nature out at three to two; but I did not bet upon Art.'

"Whether the apothecary were frightened, or whether he bled the patient, I can't say," said Daly ; "but Will Witley is alive and merry at this moment to tell the story, and the Jockey Club had to settle the difference.'"

"Your humane suggestion," said I to Daly, "at once so gratifying to me, and so compli

mentary to Mr. Sniggs, it would scarcely be worth trying. The poor boy of whom we are talking is no heir-presumptive, nor does he stand in my way, except that by his death, if it should unfortunately happen, I am likely to lose whatever my poor brother might otherwise have have been disposed to leave me in case of my surviving him. However, let us hope for the best."

A summons to dinner terminated the conversation; but I thought I began to perceive that Wells was not quite delighted with his new visiter, who had, it appeared, made good his landing, by having accosted the Rector in the Blissfold library, and having proclaimed his old friendship for me, and a perfect recollection of my father-in-law's father, whom he said had been an intimate friend of his uncle John's.

To me, perfectly acquainted as I was with my friend's "facilities," this ancient friendship was somewhat problematical; and when Wells was describing the circumstance of Daly's selfintroduction to him-encouraged, however, by

a good-natured recognition on the part of the Rector-he evidently overheard us; and the twinkle of his eye, and the motion of his mouth, convinced me that Uncle John, if he ever existed, which, (as I never had previously heard of him,) I very much doubted, knew no more of our host's respectable father than I did.

Things, I must confess, all turned out badly upon this particular day. When Wells invited Daly to dine with him, he had not received a very curious letter from Lieutenant Merman, upon which he was desirous of consulting me, and which promised, under certain circumstances, very much to alter the position, and, eventually, the state of his daughter Fanny. I saw that his mind was occupied by some subject of importance, and that neither his playing nor marking was done attentively; and although I was not prepared to hear what he subsequently told me respecting the gallant officer's communication, I felt perfectly assured that his thoughts were not on what he was doing.

The consequence of all these “ cross cross pur