tremely simple as not to understand, the instant she read it, that Mrs. Hawke had no more intention of taking a house in London than Queen Pomare had at that precise moment. Mrs. Goslin received it as it was really meant to be, a demonstration on the part of the Hawkes of their fixed resolve to quarter themselves in Harley-street, rent-free, for the remainder of the season.

"To do the Hawkes justice," said Mr. Goslin, drily, "they generally give us notice of their projected invasions."

"I suppose we must submit, my dear," said Mrs. Goslin, with as much Christian resignation as if she had heard the sermon alluded to by Mrs. Hawke.

"I suppose so," said Mr. G., doggedly.

"But it is provoking just now, when every thing is put up, the carpets off, the curtains down, no servants, no coals,” "So much the better," said Mr. Goslin.

They must be very poor," said his wife.

"No! Hawke had two hundred a-year from his father-he got a few thousand pounds with his wife, and he generally has some little agencies or temporary employments which must bring in something; they could afford to have a small house, or excellent lodgings."

"Why, they must live for absolutely nothing.

"At all events they save house-rent, servant's wages, poor's-rate, and the assessed taxes."

At this point of the colloquy Mr. Goslin's brother, Jack Chatterley, came in, and laughed heartily when he heard of the meditated descent of the pirates, the fame of whose exploits had reached his ears.

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You know them, John ?" said his sister.

"Know them! to be sure I do; that is by reputation; every body knows them, and most people to their cost. They call Hawke the Red

Rover, and his wife goes by the name of the Gipsy."

"She's a brunette."

"And a strolling beggar, and something worse into the bargain," continued Chatterley; "but have you answered her letter, Kitty? Take care what you do."

"Why, how can one refuse, John?"

"All I can say, Kitty, is this,―take care the Gipsy is not near her

confinement."

"My God! is it possible she wants to be confined in my house?" "She managed to be confined at Colonel Tomkins's a few years ago, that's all I know; so look sharp ;-take a friend's advice."

"I should have to pay for the straw," said Mr. Goslin.

"Colonel Tomkins paid the doctor, and, I believe he also paid for the cradle. Besides he was at Cox's in Conduit-street for two months; just think of that;-I used to dine with him there."

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Well, if ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Goslin.

"How could Tomkins stand it ?" asked her husband.

"It was not pleasant, I can tell you; he didn't quite like it; but what he thought worst of was being asked to stand godfather to the young bird of prey, and obliged to present the nurse with a guinea.”

Mrs. Goslin made inquiries in the course of the day respecting Mrs. Hawke's times and seasons of gestation, and, finding the result satisfactory, she suffered good-nature to prevail, and returned a complaisant answer to that lady's letter, stating that a room or two in Harley-street,

were entirely at her service for a fortnight, and regretting that she could not offer such poor accommodation for a longer time, as there were necessary repairs to be done, and carpenters and painters would be employed for the remainder of the summer. The next day the Goslins left town for the Giblets, leaving their house in charge of a trusty maidservant, who got a hint from Mr. Chatterley not to divulge the name of the family coal-factor, and to be equally mysterious as to that of the baker and butcher.

Not a word has yet been said about the Hawkes of the rising generation. They were five in number; three females, Emma, Jane, and Arabella, and two males, Master Tommy Hawke, and Master John Tomkins Hawke, the identical personage whose arrival in the world drove Colonel Tomkins out of his house; in commemoration of which incident the young gentleman was introduced into the bosom of holy church by the names of that gallant and much-injured officer.

The question with Mrs. Hawke now was, to dispose of Arabella and Tommy for the summer months. Emma was to go to London with mamma and рара, and accompany them in their movements. Jane was quartered upon the excellent Jenkinsons," and the youngest, little John Tomkins, had some months before been placed under the care of a cousin of Mr. Hawke's, the wife of the Reverend Williams Griffith Williams, a poor clergyman in North Wales who, happening to be fond of children, and having no child of her own, consented to take charge of the said Johnny, although the income of the parish of Llanbrwrchlynle (just thirty-five pounds per annum) was ill able to bear even that small additional incumbrance.

"My dear," said Mrs. Hawke to her husband, "do you think your aunt Goodbody would like to have Arabella and Tommy with her for a little while? I should wish Arabella to have more of the country air, and I am sure Norwood would agree with her."

"My aunt Goodbody!" answered Mr. Hawke with amazement. "Why, where is Jane, is not she at Norwood ?"

"No, indeed she is not; she is with the Jenkinsons; how very strange that you never do know where your children are!"

"You can sound Mrs. Goodbody," said Hawke, instead of repelling his wife's charge, which he could easily have done, had he been pugnaciously disposed.

"I'll write to her by this post," said the Gipsy; "leave it to me."

CHAP. V.

Flight of the Hawkes-Defects of Memory-Where shall we Dine?-How the lawkes arrived at a turnpike and escaped toll-free.

THE servants at St. Ronald's were overjoyed when the Hawkes bundled into the coach (Sir Frederick's of course) which was to take them to town; for though it was their policy to act handsomely towards the domestics of the houses which they infested, they gave more trouble than an ambassador's suite, and were never generous, except when they designed to stoop a second time, after a short interval, upon the same quarry.

"Arabella, don't forget the cherries."

"Oh no, mamma, they are in the carriage, my basketful and Emma's

too."

"I have got the gooseberries," cried Tommy.

"Hawke, did you see the vegetables packed? There ought to be three hampers; I only see two."

"The fowls and rabbits are in the boot."

"That gardener is so provoking; why does he not bring the flowers?" the gardener at length appeared, and the meagre nosegay in his hand proved that he was not dying of ambition to gratify his master's friends: he probably intended to mark his displeasure at the extortions he had been forced to submit to in things of more value than pinks and roses. There was no use in being angry, and accordingly, Mrs. Hawke, like a sensible woman, kept her temper. The coach drove off, but in a moment, one of the maids was seen running after it and calling to the postilion to stop. "Well, what's the matter, Maria? I suppose we have forgotten something. You are so careless, Emma."

Maria was out of breath, but she soon vindicated poor Emma from the charge of carelessness.

"What have we forgotten?" repeated Mrs. Hawke, as the maid came up to the carriage-window. "I engage it's the rabbits."

"Oh no, ma'am, it's not the rabbits; it's only to leave my mistress's blue silk cloak behind you, ma'am," said Maria.

“Oh yes, indeed, mamma," exclaimed Emma, "that is Lady Freeman's cloak you have on."

"Dear me! Is it possible? How very strange! You are so thoughtless, Emma," and she coolly handed Lady Freeman's property out of the window to the vigilant Maria, who had her eye at the moment keenly fixed upon an object attached to the roof of the chaise.

"I hope we have got no more of your goods," said Mrs. Hawke, playfully.

"Only my master's cane," replied the damsel, deliberately drawing forth, as she spoke, a stout but aristocratic walking-stick, which had all the appearance of being an old favourite, perhaps an heir-loom, but which Mr. Hawke had so long been in the habit of making free with that he was almost excusable in considering it his own.

"I really thought it was papa's," said Tommy.

"Drive on," cried the Gipsy; "good-bye, Maria."

"I think we shall never be settled," said the Red Rover, throwing himself into a corner of the old coach, as it now rattled on towards London. "We shall be very comfortable in Harley-street, I dare say," said the Gipsy.

"Yes, but my dear, if I get the appointment I am looking for in the Universal Providence Life Assurance Company, it will be absolutely necessary to take permanent lodgings, or a small house."

"I recollect we once had a house, pa," said Emma.

"We had," said Hawke, "Emma is right, but it was only for three or four months. I remember we escaped the poor-rate. I never paid poorrate in my life."

"Houses are very expensive," said Mrs. Hawke. "What should we do with a house? Small houses are detestable, and large ones are downright

ruinous."

"That's true," said the Red Rover, who, though not so incorrigible a vagrant as his better half, was deeply sensible of the financial advantages of the wandering life she loved. "By the bye, Mag," he added, "where do we dine to-day?"

"Perhaps we shall catch the Goslins at lunch before they start," said Miss Hawke.

No, we shall not," said her mother, "the Goslins are half way to the Giblets by this time,—but we can dine at the Jenkinsons; indeed, I think we ought to dine with them; I think they would like it; leave it all to me."

Mr. Hawke's conscience gently smote him; they had been leaning pretty hard of late upon the Jenkinsons; one of his daughters was billetted upon them at that very moment. He made what he thought a more conscionable proposal, but Emma took her mother's part in favour of the Jenkinsons, who had always such nice desserts, so the Red Rover acquiesced, declaring that for himself he had no appetite, so it mattered little where he dined, or whether he dined or not.

Now the truth was that Hawke was a prodigious eater. He used to talk sentimentally of picking the leg of a chicken, but in practice he would dispatch an entire turkey, or gobble up a great part of a leg of mutton. In short he had a most inconvenient appetite for a man who dined systematically at the expense of his neighbours, and his wife, in her delicate way, often told him so.

Just at this instant they reached a turnpike, at a few miles distance from St. Ronald's. Mr. Hawke put his hand in his pocket, but he was so affluent that morning that the only money he possessed was in the shape of a bank-note, which he was about to present, and request the change, when Mrs. Hawke arrested his hand.

"Ridiculous! change a note to pay a turnpike! I presume," addressing the turnpike-keeper with one of those winning smiles which she had at command, and often used with brilliant effect, "Sir Frederick Freeman keeps an account; we have come from his place on our way to town; will you have the goodness to put the toll down to him; he'll understand it perfectly."

The man was complaisant, and accepting the security of Mrs. Hawke's smile and address, suffered the chaise to pass toll-free.

"Now, Hawke, mind you do not forget to repay poor Sir Frederick the very first time you meet him."

"No," said Hawke.

"Recollect, Emma, to remind your papa.'

"Yes, mamma.

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"I am so particular about small matters of this kind," added Mrs. Hawke. Perhaps it was true. She was certainly not particular about great matters. However, she made the observation with the air of the most upright woman in petticoats. As to the debt in question, whether it was ever discharged or not is unrecorded; but it has been satisfactorily ascertained, that after the expiration of that year Sir F. Freeman found it his interest or convenience to keep no more turnpike accounts on the road between St. Ronald's and London.

CHAP. VI.

The Universal Providence Fire and Life Assurance Company-Mr. Flash Dashwood-Promotion of Mr. Hawke-Capital of the Company-Names of the Principal Directors-The Duke of Wellington-Mr. Dashwood's Munificence The Company's House in Pall Mall.

A COMPANY So liberal, and on so great a scale as the Universal Pro

vidence proposed, of course, to allow the handsomest salaries to its officers. The secretary was to have 600l. a-year, and in a short time a princely residence, with wax candles, and coals à discretion, as the twofranc restaurateurs in Paris promise bread in their bills of fare.

Considering the importance and splendour of the appointment, it was surprising how easily Mr. Hawke procured it. The moment he arrived in town, he hastened to wait upon Mr. Flash Dashwood, the active man in establishing the new company, and with whom he had been in correspondence for some time. Mr. Dashwood was all radiance and benignity; embraced Hawke, cordially congratulated him upon having had the voices of all the directors in his favour; declared that the place was the very best thing in England, not excepting the office of Secretary of State itself; that the association would and must extinguish every other Assurance Company in Europe, and that superabundance of capital was the only difficulty they had to apprehend.

"What is your capital?" asked the new secretary, hardly recovered from the transports of joy into which the news of his good fortune had thrown him.

"Three millions and a half," replied Mr. Flash Dashwood.

"Paid up?" inquired Hawke.

"We know our trade better than that," replied the other; "no respectable company has a paid-up capital now."

"No?" exclaimed Hawke, upon whom this intelligence came by surprise.

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Suppose you had three millions and a half in your purse this moment," said Dashwood, "what could you do with it, let me ask you ?"

Hawke owned the difficulty, but asked where the capital was, since it was not "paid up."

"In our pockets, where it ought to be," answered the intrepid di

rector.

Mr. Hawke was not prepared to deny that so vast a sum of money could be better placed than in the pockets of the owners, and being now perfectly satisfied that the new company was built upon a solid rock of gold, he began to inquire when the business was to commence, and where it was to be carried on.

"Walk with me towards Pall Mall," said Mr. Dashwood; “you shall see our new shop, and we can talk matters over as we move along." "Do you know Sir Jasper Peregrine Mowbray Austruther Carleton, of Anstruther Hall, Cornwall ?"

"No; I don't think I ever heard of him."

"Odd; one of our best men; immense fortune; he wanted fifty shares, but it was against our rules."

"You know the Duc de Monte-Video, or you have heard of him ?" Hawke had heard of many duchies, but not of Monte-Video.

"A Spanish grandee of enormous wealth; never permits silver at his table; keeps a French cook for his servants' hall; you must have met him in Brazil."

Mr. Hawke had never been in Brazil, which accounted for his never having met the Spanish grandee in question. He was about to ask the names of other directors, when Mr. Dashwood suddenly stopped and asked him to step into a brilliant jeweller's shop-they were walking down Regent-street.