many affectionate expressions, and concludes with a haughty 'Sir,' and
her opinion that his conduct was 'devilish.' The affair was, therefore,
clearly a violent quarrel, and Selwyn was obliged at last to give up the
child. He had a carriage fitted up for her expressly for her journey;
made out for her a list of the best hotels on her route; sent his own
confidential man-servant with her, and treasured up among his 'relics'
the childish little notes, in a large scrawling hand, which Mie-Mie sent
him. Still more curious was it to see this complete man of the world,
this gambler for many years, this club-lounger, drinker, associate of
well-dressed blasphemers, of Franciscans of Medmenham Abbey, devoting,
not his money only, but his very time to this mere child, leaving town
in the height of the season for dull Matson, that she might have fresh
air; quitting his hot club-rooms, his nights spent at the piquet-table,
and the rattle of the dice, for the quiet, pleasant terraces of his
country-house, where he would hold the little innocent Mie-Mie by her
tiny hand, as she looked up into his shrivelled dissipated face;
quitting the interchange of wit, the society of the Townshends, the
Walpoles, the Williamses, the Edgecumbes; all the jovial, keen wisdom of
Gilly, and Dick, and Horace, and Charles, as they called one another,
for the meaningless prattle, the merry laughter of this half-English,
half-Italian child, It redeems Selwyn in our eyes, and it may have done
him real good: nay, he must have felt a keen refreshment in this change
from vice to innocence; and we understand the misery he expressed, when
the old bachelor's one little companion and only pure friend was taken
away from him. His love for the child was well known in London society;
and of it did Sheridan's friends take advantage, when they wanted to get
Selwyn out of Brookes', to prevent his black-balling the dramatist. The
anecdote is given in the next memoir.

In his later days Selwyn still haunted the clubs, hanging about, sleepy,