"My father, I believe, was a very good doctor," the young gentleman said
by way of reply. "I'm not in that line myself. I wish you good morning,
sir. I've got an appointment--Cos, bye-bye--Miss Fotheringay, good
morning." And, in spite of the young lady's imploring looks and appealing
smiles, the Dragoon bowed stiffly out of the room, and the clatter of his
sabre was heard as he strode down the creaking stair; and the angry tones
of his voice as he cursed little Tom Creed, who was disporting in the
passage, and whose peg-top Sir Derby kicked away with an oath into the
street.

The Major did not smile in the least, though he had every reason to be
amused. "Monstrous handsome young man that--as fine a looking soldier as
ever I saw," he said to Costigan.

"A credit to the army and to human nature in general," answered Costigan.
"A young man of refoined manners, polite affabilitee, and princely
fortune. His table is sumptuous: he's adawr'd in the regiment: and he
rides sixteen stone."

"A perfect champion," said the Major, laughing. "I have no doubt all the
ladies admire him."

"He's very well, in spite of his weight, now he's young," said Milly;
"but he's no conversation."

"He's best on horseback," Mr. Bows said; on which Milly replied, that the
Baronet had ridden third in the steeple-chase on his horse Tareaways, and
the Major began to comprehend that the young lady herself was not of a
particular genius, and to wonder how she should be so stupid and act so
well.