mentioned in general orders, and Uncle Hobson asked little Clive at
Midsummer. Then Lord H., a late Governor-General, coming home, and
meeting the brothers at a grand dinner at the Albion, given by the Court
of Directors to his late Excellency, spoke to the bankers about that most
distinguished officer their relative; and Mrs. Hobson drove over to see
his aunt, where the boy was; gave him a sovereign out of her purse, and
advised strongly that he should be sent to Timpany's along wit her own
boy. Then Clive went from one uncle's house to another; and was liked at
both; and much preferred ponies to ride, going out after rabbits with the
keeper, money in his pocket (charge to the debit of Lieut.-Col. T.
Newcome), and clothes from the London tailor, to the homely quarters and
conversation of poor kind old Aunt Honeyman at Brighton. Clive's uncles
were not unkind; they liked each other; their wives, who hated each
other, united in liking Clive when they knew him, and petting the wayward
handsome boy: they were only pursuing the way of the world, which huzzas
all prosperity, and turns away from misfortune as from some contagious
disease. Indeed, how can we see a man's brilliant qualities if he is what
we call in the shade?

The gentlemen, Clive's uncles, who had their affairs to mind during the
day, society and the family to occupy them of evenings and holidays,
treated their young kinsman, the Indian Colonel's son, as other wealthy
British uncles treat other young kinsmen. They received him in his
vacations kindly enough. They tipped him when he went to school; when he
had the hooping-cough, a confidential young clerk went round by way of
Grey Friars Square to ask after him; the sea being recommended to him,
Mrs. Newcome gave him change of air in Sussex, and transferred him to his
maternal aunt at Brighton. Then it was bonjour. As the lodge-gates closed
upon him, Mrs. Newcome's heart shut up too and confined itself within the
firs, laurels, and palings which bound the home precincts. Had not she