Willy after the age of thirty, who did not come to a melancholy end!
Willy was the natural son of a rich, helter-skelter, cleverish, maddish,
stylish, raffish, four-in-hand Baronet, by a celebrated French actress.
The title is extinct now, and so, I believe, is that genus of stylish,
raffish, four-in-hand Baronet--Sir Julian Losely--"

"Losely!" echoed Lionel. "Yes; do you know the name?"

"I never heard it till yesterday. I want to tell you what I did hear
then--but after your story--go on."

"Sir Julian Losely (Willy's father) lived with the French lady as his
wife, and reared Willy in his house, with as much pride and fondness as
if he intended him for his heir. The poor boy, I suspect, got but little
regular education; though of course, he spoke his French mother's tongue
like a native; and, thanks also perhaps to his mother, he had an
extraordinary talent for mimicry and acting. His father was passionately
fond of private theatricals, and Willy had early practice in that line.
I once saw him act Falstaff in a country house, and I doubt if Quin could
have acted it better. Well, when Willy was still a mere boy, he lost his
mother, the actress. Sir Julian married--had a legitimate daughter--died
intestate--and the daughter, of course, had the personal property, which
was not much; the heir-at-law got the land, and poor Willy nothing. But
Willy was an universal favourite with his father's old friends--wild
fellows like Sir Julian himself amongst them there were two cousins, with
large country-houses, sporting-men, and bachelors. They shared Willy
between them, and quarrelled which should have the most of him. So he
grew up to be man, with no settled provision, but always welcome, not
only to the two cousins, but at every house in which, like Milton's lark,
'he came to startle the dull night'--the most amusing companion!--