Rodney Stone . brings him back to your memory, andyou find your sorrow as raw as upon the first dayof your loss. My father nodded. So it was with me to-night. I never formeda close friendship with a man—I say nothing ofwomen—save only the once. That was withLord Avon. We were of an age, he a few yearsperhaps my senior, but our tastes, our judgments,and our character were alike, save only that hehad in him a touch of pride such as I have neverknown in any other man. Putting aside the littlefoibles of a rich young man of fashion, les indis-cretions dune jeunesse dor6e, I could have swornthat he
Rodney Stone . brings him back to your memory, andyou find your sorrow as raw as upon the first dayof your loss. My father nodded. So it was with me to-night. I never formeda close friendship with a man—I say nothing ofwomen—save only the once. That was withLord Avon. We were of an age, he a few yearsperhaps my senior, but our tastes, our judgments,and our character were alike, save only that hehad in him a touch of pride such as I have neverknown in any other man. Putting aside the littlefoibles of a rich young man of fashion, les indis-cretions dune jeunesse dor6e, I could have swornthat he was as good a man as I have everknown. How came he then to such a crime ? askedmy father. My uncle shook his head. Many a time haveI asked myself that question, and it comes morehome to me to-night than ever. All the jaunti-ness had gone out of his manner, and he hadturned suddenly into a sad and serious man. Was it certain that he did it, Charles ?asked my mother. My uncle shrugged his shoulders. I wish I. 1 find him very passable, Mary. BUCK TREGELLIS. 89 could think it were not so. I have thought some-times that it was this very pride, turning sudden-ly to madness, which drove him to it. You haveheard how he returned the money which we hadlost? Nay, I have heard nothing of it, my fatheranswered. It is a very old story now, though we havenot yet found an end to it. We had played fortwo days, the four of us, Lord Avon, his brotherCaptain Barrington, Sir Lothian Hume, and my-self. Of the captain I knew little, save that hewas not of the best repute, and was deep in thehands of the Jews. Sir Lothian has made an evilname for himself since—tis the same Sir. Lothianwho shot Lord Carton in the affair at Chalk farm—but in those days there was nothing againsthim. The oldest of us was but twenty-four, andwe gamed on, as I say, until the captain hadcleared the board. We were all hit, but our hostfar the hardest. That night—I tell you now what it would bea bitter thing for me t
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