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discernment and dexterity with which he had directed

his whip. Catherine, though she could not help wondering



that with such perfect command of his horse, he should think

it necessary to alarm her with a relation of its tricks,



congratulated herself sincerely on being under the care

of so excellent a coachman; and perceiving that the animal



continued to go on in the same quiet manner, without showing

the smallest propensity towards any unpleasant vivacity,



and (considering its inevitable pace was ten miles an hour)

by no means alarmingly fast, gave herself up to all the



enjoyment of air and exercise of the most invigorating kind,

in a fine mild day of February, with the consciousness



of safety. A silence of several minutes succeeded their

first short dialogue; it was broken by Thorpe's saying



very abruptly, "Old Allen is as rich as a Jew--is not he?"

Catherine did not understand him--and he repeated his question,



adding in explanation, "Old Allen, the man you are with."

"Oh! Mr. Allen, you mean. Yes, I believe, he is



very rich."

"And no children at all?"



"No--not any."

"A famous thing for his next heirs. He is your godfather,



is not he?"

"My godfather! No."



"But you are always very much with them."

"Yes, very much."



"Aye, that is what I meant. He seems a good kind

of old fellow enough, and has lived very well in his time,



I dare say; he is not gouty for nothing. Does he drink

his bottle a day now?"



"His bottle a day! No. Why should you think

of such a thing? He is a very temperate man, and you



could not fancy him in liquor last night?"

"Lord help you! You women are always thinking



of men's being in liquor. Why, you do not suppose

a man is overset by a bottle? I am sure of this--that



if everybody was to drink their bottle a day, there would

not be half the disorders in the world there are now.



It would be a famous good thing for us all."

"I cannot believe it."



"Oh! Lord, it would be the saving of thousands.

There is not the hundredth part of the wine consumed



in this kingdom that there ought to be. Our foggy climate

wants help."



"And yet I have heard that there is a great deal

of wine drunk in Oxford."



"Oxford! There is no drinking at Oxford now,

I assure you. Nobody drinks there. You would hardly meet



with a man who goes beyond his four pints at the utmost.

Now, for instance, it was reckoned a remarkable thing,



at the last party in my rooms, that upon an average we

cleared about five pints a head. It was looked upon



as something out of the common way. Mine is famous

good stuff, to be sure. You would not often meet with



anything like it in Oxford--and that may account for it.

But this will just give you a notion of the general rate



of drinking there."

"Yes, it does give a notion," said Catherine warmly,



"and that is, that you all drink a great deal more wine

than I thought you did. However, I am sure James does



not drink so much."

This declaration brought on a loud and overpowering reply,



of which no part was very distinct, except the frequent

exclamations, amounting almost to oaths, which adorned it,



and Catherine was left, when it ended, with rather a strengthened

belief of there being a great deal of wine drunk in Oxford,



and the same happy conviction of her brother's comparative sobriety.

Thorpe's ideas then all reverted to the merits



of his own equipage, and she was called on to admire

the spirit and freedom with which his horse moved along,



and the ease which his paces, as well as the excellence

of the springs, gave the motion of the carriage.



She followed him in all his admiration as well as she could.

To go before or beyond him was impossible. His knowledge






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