Still, Mr. Ascott was not a bad man, though something deeper than his glorious indifference to grammar, and his dropped h’s—­which, to steal some one’s joke, might have been swept up in bushels from Miss Leaf’s parlor—­made it impossible for him ever to be, by any culture whatever, a gentleman.

They talked of Ascott, as being the most convenient mutual subject; and Miss Leaf expressed the gratitude which her nephew felt, and she earnestly hoped would ever show, toward his kind godfather.

Mr. Ascott looked pleased.

“Um—­yes, Ascott’s not a bad fellow—­believe he means well:  but weak, ma’am, I’m afraid he’s weak.  Knows nothing of business—­has no business habits whatever.  However, we must make the best of him; I don’t repent any thing I’ve done for him.”

“I hope not,” said Miss Leaf, gravely.

And then there ensued an uncomfortable pause, which was happily broken by the opening of the door, and the sweeping in of a large, goodly figure.

“My sister, Mr. Ascott; my sister Selina.”

The little stout man actually started, and, as he bowed, blushed up to the eyes.

Miss Selina was, as I have stated, the beauty of the family, and had once been an acknowledged Stowbury belle.  Even now, though nigh upon forty, when carefully and becomingly dressed, her tall figure, and her well featured, fair complexioned, unwrinkled face, made her still appear a very personable woman.  At any rate, she was not faded enough, nor the city magnate’s heart cold enough to prevent a sudden revival of the vision which—­in what now seemed an almost antediluvian stage of existence—­had dazzled, Sunday after Sunday, the eyes of the grocer’s lad.  If there is one pure spot in a man’s heart—­oven the very worldliest of men—­it is usually his boyish first love.

So Peter Ascott looked hard at Miss Selina, then into his hat, then, as good luck would have it, out of the window, where he caught sight of his carriage and horses.  These revived his spirits, and made him recognize what he was—­Mr. Ascott, of Russell Square, addressing himself in the character of a benevolent patron to the Leaf family.

“Glad to see you, Miss.  Long time since we met—­neither of us so young as we have been—­but you do wear well, I must say.”

Miss Selina drew back; she was within an inch of being highly offended, when she too happened to catch a glimpse of the carriage and horses.  So she sat down and entered into conversation with him; and when she liked, nobody could be more polite and agreeable than Miss Selina.  So it happened that the handsome equipage crawled round and round the Crescent, or stood pawing the silent Sunday street before No. 15, for very nearly an hour, even till Hilary came home.  It was vexatious to have to make excuses for Ascott:  particularly as his godfather said with a laugh, that “young fellows would be young fellows,” they needn’t expect to see the lad till midnight, or till to-morrow morning.