The tears would come; hot and struggling over the dams of pride.

Shamefully fast they began to fall.

He could no longer conceal them, or check the sobs.

Sir Austin drew him nearer and nearer, till the beloved head was on his breast.
An hour afterwards, Adrian Harley, Austin Wentworth, and Algernon Feverel were summoned to the baronet's study.
Adrian came last.

There was a style of affable omnipotence about the wise youth as he slung himself into a chair, and made an arch of the points of his fingers, through which to gaze on his blundering kinsmen.
Careless as one may be whose sagacity has foreseen, and whose benevolent efforts have forestalled, the point of danger at the threshold, Adrian crossed his legs, and only intruded on their introductory remarks so far as to hum half audibly at intervals, "Ripton and Richard were two pretty men," in parody of the old ballad.