"Well, then, my lord, what I have observed during our conversation, with
great pain, is, that you seem to entertain--pardon me, I speak in good
feeling, I assure your lordship--that you seem, I say, to entertain
a very unkind and anything but a parental feeling for your son. What,
after all, do his wild eccentricities amount to more than the freedom
and indulgence in those easy habits of life which his wealth and station
hold out to him with greater temptation than they do to others? I
cannot, my lord, in fact, see anything so monstrous in the conduct of
a young nobleman like him, to justify, on the part of your lordship,
language so severe, and, pardon me, so prejudicial to his character.
Excuse me, my lord, if I have taken a liberty to which I am in nowise
entitled." Socrates himself could scarcely have assumed a tone more
moral, or a look of greater sincerity, or more anxious interest, than
did the Black Baronet whilst he uttered these words.

The peer rose up, and his eye and whole person were marked by an
expression and an air of the highest dignity, not unmingled with deep
and obvious feeling.

"Sir Thomas Gourlay," said he, "you seem to forget the object of our
conference, and our respective positions."

"My Lord," exclaimed the other, in a deprecating tone, "I meant no
offence, upon my honor."

"I have taken none," replied his lordship; "but I must teach you to
understand me. Whatever my son's conduct may be, one thing is evident,
that you are his apologist; now, as a moral man, anxious for the
happiness of your child, I tell you that you ought to have exchanged
positions with me; it is you who, when about to intrust your daughter to