The excuse, which Mordaunt had made for his abrupt departure from Deane Hall, was not, in truth, totally devoid of foundation: for he had really received an invitation to join a party of college friends, on a tour to the Lakes; though such a cause would not alone have been sufficient to tear him from a scene, in which all his hopes and wishes were centred. Notwithstanding his being an enthusiastic admirer of the beauties of nature, and moreover a proficient in drawing, all the charms of the wild country he then visited were insufficient long to rivet his attention; and with an agitated mind and aching heart, he returned early in September to Oxford, of which he meant to take his final leave at the end of the following term. No profession had yet been determined on for him, for his uncle, Lord Osselstone, whose title he was one day to inherit, had never, in the least degree, interfered on the subject of his education; and the habit of procrastination, which was one of the principal failings of Sir Henry Seymour's character, had hitherto prevented his making the important choice. Thus the period of Mr. Mordaunt's minority had expired, before his guardian could be prevailed on to come to any final determination; and Augustus now deferred his own decision till the period, which would speedily arrive, of his quitting the University of Oxford.

The indolence of disposition, which had rendered Sir Henry Seymour's judgment inert, had not extended its torpid influence to his feelings; and a considerable degree of resentment was produced in his mind by the indifference, indeed total alienation of all regard, which seemed to mark Lord Osselstone's conduct to his nephew. Once, and once only, before his going to Oxford, had Augustus met his uncle. For, when Mr. Temple was deputed by Sir Henry, to conduct Mordaunt on his first entering college, they had, on their way, passed through London, for the express purpose of paying their respects to his Lordship. But his reception of them had been so cold, so ostentatiously polite, that Mordaunt felt by no means anxious to improve the acquaintance: and yet it might have been supposed, that opportunity of cultivating the friendship of Lord Osselstone would have been rather sought for than declined by his nephew. For all the Earl's estates, which were considerable, were in his own power; and it was the general opinion of those who professed to know him best, that he intended to make a Mr. Davis his heir, who was a distant relation, and had been for many years as unremitting in his attentions to Lord Osselstone, as Mordaunt had been the reverse. Not that Augustus was unaware of the consequence such a disposition of this property might prove to him; for all he inherited from his father was a few thousand pounds, the little that remained of a younger brother's portion, after a life spent and finally sacrificed to the excess of dissipation. But perhaps this conviction on both sides served to make the barrier between them stronger. Lord Osselstone seemed prepared to think, that any attention his nephew could pay him must proceed from interested motives; and Mordaunt was fearful of showing even the little natural affection, that remained in his breast towards him, lest it might be construed into dissimulation.

One of Lord Osselstone's estates was situated within a few miles of Oxford, where he generally spent a few months every summer;—for he was an upright and considerate landlord, and usually made it a point to visit all his estates in the course of the year, for the purpose of inquiring into the actual state of his tenantry—not that he was ever known to lower a rent or remit a debt: no entreaty, no representation, could ever persuade him either to break an agreement himself, or to suffer it to be broken by another. And if ever he found his rights invaded, or even disputed, there was no extremity or expense he declined in the defence or prosecution of them. He had often heard, unmoved, a tale that might have pierced a heart of stone; and seen, with relentless eyes, the poor man's "one ewe lamb" sold to pay the arrears of rent. But it not unfrequently happened, that the iron-hearted creditor was himself the purchaser of the stock at a price much beyond its value; and the tenant, if deserving, would probably find his Lord's steward inclined, the next year, to let him have his seed-wheat, not gratis, but nearly so.

One peculiarity in the Earl's character was an extraordinary disposition to disbelieve even the most natural expressions of gratitude, and to doubt any testimony whatever of affection to himself. No way was so sure of losing any claim on his favour, as to make the least allusion to his former kindness; and one of the few domestics, that had at any time remained long in his service, was an old grey-headed valet, who had attended him faithfully from his youth; and had scarcely ever been known to agree with him in opinion, or to hesitate in expressing, in the strongest terms, his disapprobation. Yet even Lord Chesterfield could not better understand the perfection of politeness than did Lord Osselstone, or make it more his constant practice in his intercourse with the world in general. However his real sentiments might differ from those of his associates, he always took care to soften down so well the sharp angles of dissent, that no cutting point was left to wound the feelings of others; while his own remained impervious to every eye. All acknowledged he was a just man, and every body felt he was a proud one; but, however dignified his manners were to his equals, to his inferiors his pride was silvered over with an affability, that, whilst it made it still more conspicuous, served almost to purchase its forgiveness.

To those who reflected on the various qualities of his mind, the picture it presented seemed to be composed of a variety and contrast of colours rarely to be met with, but all so highly varnished, that their very brightness confounded. It seemed a mass of contradiction, by some extraneous power compressed into an indefinable whole. His virtues and his vices trod so closely on each other, that it was difficult to draw the line of separation between them, and both appeared to owe their origin either to the temporary error, or general superiority of his judgment; all his actions seemed to proceed only from his head—his heart was never called into play. It was difficult to decide whether the finer feelings were really extinct in his breast; or whether, dreading the power passion might usurp, he never for one moment permitted it to assume the reins. In his general establishment he was magnificent;—in the detail of its arrangements almost parsimonious. His charity was ostentatious rather than benign; for, though his name graced every list of public contribution, he never came forward in his own person as the poor man's benefactor. None who experienced the urbanity of Lord Osselstone's manners could believe him to be his own individual enemy; and yet no person could repose in the calm confidence, that Lord Osselstone was his friend. It was evident, that, had he not been a courtier, he would have been a misanthropist.

In conversation he was generally reserved; but, if circumstances called upon him for exertion, his abilities seemed to rise with the occasion, and his variety of information, his elegance of language, and even the occasional playfulness of his imagination, made him one of the most agreeable of companions. In all Lord Osselstone did, in all Lord Osselstone said, in all he looked, there might be discovered an intensity of thought; which, far from being confined to the surface, seemed to increase in profundity the deeper it was examined. His character, like his manner, was not to be deciphered by vulgar eyes. He was generally serious—never dull; and at times his wit was even sportive. Yet Lord Osselstone, when most gay, could scarcely be deemed cheerful. At the moments of his greatest exhilaration, when an admiring audience hung upon his words, or a more favoured few caught the sparks of animation from the meteor that flashed before them, deriving all their temporary brilliancy from the electric fire of his talents; even at those moments, Lord Osselstone seemed scarcely happy;—the brightness of the emanation was for them;—the dark body remained his own; and few had skill or inclination to penetrate the dense medium that seemed still to surround and obscure his soul.

The first year that Mordaunt had been at college, Lord Osselstone had made no advance towards cultivating the acquaintance that had so inauspiciously commenced; for, except a very slight salutation in an accidental meeting in the street, Augustus had received no mark whatever even of recognizance. And perhaps this inattention was rendered still more mortifying, as whenever Lord Osselstone was in the neighbourhood of Oxford, he generally received a great deal of company at his house; and several of the young men there, whose connections were amongst his Lordship's associates in London, procured introductions to him, and frequently partook of the elegant hospitality, that always graced his table. Nay, many members of the very college Augustus was in, and some of his own particular friends, received constant invitations to Osselstone Park, from which he alone seemed to be invidiously excluded. On Mordaunt's return to college the following year, he had been much surprised by receiving, in the course of the last week of a term, a formal but polite card of invitation to dinner, to which he sent a still more formal apology, being most happy to have it in his power to allege his intended return to Deane Hall as his excuse; and accordingly he left Oxford the very day, that had been named by his uncle for receiving him. Not, however, that he returned immediately to the Hall. Augustus, though abhorring the excesses into which so many of his contemporaries thoughtlessly plunged, was still not averse to taste slightly the cup of pleasure, if placed within his reach; and, therefore, usually adopted the geography most in fashion at Oxford, by which it is ascertained to a demonstration, that London is the direct road from thence to every other place in England. He had not then been taught, that the deprivation of Selina Seymour's society for a little fortnight was an irreparable loss; and the theatres and the delights of London were sufficiently new to him, to beguile that, and even a longer time. It was just that season of the year when a London winter begins to subside, not into a healthy spring, but into an unwelcome summer, and when the dying embers of gaiety are only kept alive by a few forced sparks of unwearied dissipation. But to Augustus, who had not glared in the full flame, even these had charms; and he frequented, with unsatiated pleasure, all the places of public amusement then open.

One night at the opera, whither he had repaired with some of his college friends in a state of exhilaration, that, though it fell far short of intoxication, was equally different from his usual tone of spirits, while he was standing in the outer room laughing rather vociferously at some ridiculous observation of his companions, his eye suddenly rested on the face of Lord Osselstone, who, with an unmoved countenance and steady gaze, had been scrutinizing the groupe with minute attention, while they were totally unconscious of his proximity. Augustus's colour rose; and a confused idea that he was the peculiar object of his uncle's observation crossing his mind, he rather increased than restrained the vivacity of his manner. "Lord Osselstone's carriage stops the way," was repeated from stage to stage of the echoing stair-case; and, while the Earl passed close to Mordaunt as he proceeded to obey the clamorous summons, he stopped deliberately, and observing that "Mr. Mordaunt's visit to Sir Henry Seymour had been a much shorter one than usual," made him a low bow, and pursued his way without waiting for a reply; which, in Mordaunt's then state of mind, would probably not have been an amicable one, indignant as he felt at Lord Osselstone's conveying his only acknowledgement of him in the form of an implied reproof. Here then, once more, ended all intercourse between uncle and nephew; for, when Augustus again returned to college, the invitation had not been renewed; and though in the last examination he had received three several prizes, and with them the compliments of all his friends, Lord Osselstone had witnessed his triumph in silence, though it happened he was in Oxford, nay, even in the school, that very day.

On Mordaunt's arrival at Oxford, at the conclusion of his late northern tour, his thoughts were so completely preoccupied, that he did not even take the trouble of inquiring whether the Earl was then in the neighbourhood. But as he was one evening sauntering along a retired road on the banks of the river, attending more to the painful reflections of his own mind than to a book which he mechanically held in his hand, he was suddenly roused from his meditations by the sound of a carriage coming furiously behind him; and, turning round, perceived a gentleman alone in a curricle, the horses of which were approaching at their utmost speed, and evidently ungovernable. The furious animals were making directly towards the river, and, if their course was not impeded, immediate destruction inevitably awaited their unfortunate driver. This reflection, and his consequent determination, was but a momentary effort of Augustus's mind. Throwing away his book, he sprang into the middle of the road; and, though the gentleman loudly exclaimed, "Take care of yourself—I cannot manage them," he deliberately kept his stand, and, at the moment the horses reached the spot, dexterously succeeded in grasping the reins, and stopping the carriage. The suddenness of the jolt, however, unfortunately broke the axle-tree, and threw the gentleman at a little distance on the road. A deep groan instantaneously followed his fall; and Augustus felt a painful conviction, that though his presence of mind had certainly saved the stranger's life at the imminent risk of his own, yet the very act had been the cause of much apparent suffering to him. He hesitated what to do:—the horses, still more frightened by the noise made by the breaking of the carriage, were almost furious; and it was as much as he could do to retain his hold, while the poor suffering man lay helplessly on the road. At length two grooms appeared, rapidly pursuing each other, with marks of the utmost consternation in their countenances; and while one jumped off his horse to assist his master, the other relieved Augustus from his troublesome charge. The Osselstone liveries proclaimed the stranger's name, as Augustus had not yet seen his face, and the discovery but increased his distress:—"Good God, my uncle! Are you much hurt, dear sir?" exclaimed he, in a tone of commiseration, almost of affection. At the sound of his voice the Earl languidly turned his head as his servant supported him; and, stretching out one hand, grasped that of Augustus, expressing tacitly, but not ineloquently, his gratitude to his preserver. Augustus flew to the side of the river, and bringing some water in his hat, sprinkled it over his face, which in a few moments so revived him, that he was able to articulate thanks, which Augustus, with looks of kindest anxiety, interrupted, with inquiries as to the injury he had evidently received in his fall. He soon found that one arm was broken, and Lord Osselstone otherwise so much hurt, that it was difficult to move him from the position in which he lay. Without, therefore, an instant's deliberation, and scarcely explaining his design, he sprang on one of the groom's horses, and was in a few moments out of sight. Indeed, so rapid were his movements, that before it could be conjectured that he had even reached Oxford, he was seen returning in a hired chaise and four, accompanied by one of the first surgeons of that town, bringing with him every thing necessary for the accommodation of his uncle.

Before they attempted to remove Lord Osselstone, the fractured bone was set; and the attendants then carefully assisting him into the carriage, the surgeon took his place at one side of him, while Mordaunt, uninvited, supported him on the other; and then desiring the drivers to proceed carefully to Osselstone Park, left the grooms to take charge of the broken equipage.

Though Augustus had never been before within the gates of this residence of his ancestors, its magnificent scenery had not the power to withdraw his attention, for one moment, from its suffering master. In addition to the natural benevolence of his heart, which would have led him to pity any fellow-creature in a similar situation, from a refinement of feeling, he experienced an additional though certainly an unnecessary pang, from having been in any degree accessary to the present pain; and his judicious and unremitting care resembled that of a son to a beloved father. He watched by his uncle's bed all night, and could scarcely be prevailed upon to leave it to take any nourishment, till the surgeon, on the third day, pronounced the Earl out of danger.

Meantime Lord Osselstone, from whose lips no complaint ever escaped, however painful the operations he underwent, observed every change of his nephew's countenance with a scrutinizing attention; and when in a few days he was able to sit up, and enter into discourse, the modest good sense of Augustus's remarks, animated as they sometimes were by occasional bursts of a genius not quite dissimilar to his own, seemed not entirely to escape his Lordship's observation. As soon, however, as the Earl was able to leave his room, Augustus took his leave, alleging as his excuse for not accepting Lord Osselstone's polite invitation to protract his stay, that his services could be no longer useful; which was indeed his only motive for so soon separating from his uncle, of whom he now thought with far different feelings than he had done formerly—so natural is it to the human mind, to imbibe a partiality for those we have had it in our power to benefit.

These feelings were, however, soon damped by the receipt of the following note, accompanied by a beautiful edition of Horace, and some other of the classics:—

"Lord Osselstone presents his compliments to Mr. Mordaunt, and has the honour of sending him a few books, of which he requests his acceptance, in return for his late obliging attentions."

"My attentions are not to be purchased," exclaimed Augustus, as he, perhaps too indignantly, tore the note. "Nor," added he, with a sigh, "are my affections likely to be gained by my noble uncle." Then hastily writing the following answer, he returned with it the books by the servant who brought them:—

"Mr. Mordaunt presents his compliments to Lord Osselstone, and begs to assure him, that any attentions he had it in his power to show his Lordship were at the moment sufficiently repaid by the belief, that he in any degree contributed to the comfort of his uncle."

The first time the Earl was able to venture out in his carriage, he called at Mordaunt's apartments. But as he did not then happen to be at home, they did not meet previous to his Lordship's leaving the country—a circumstance which Augustus by no means regretted.