I had a letter from him the other day.

He's met two old Roslyn fellows, Wildney and Upton, the latter of whom is now Captain Upton; he says that there are not two finer or manlier officers in the whole service, and Wildney, as you may easily guess, is the favorite of the mess-room.

You know, I suppose, that Graham is making a great start at the bar." "Is he?
I'm delighted to hear it." "Yes.

He had a 'mauvais sujet' to defend the other day, in the person of our old enemy, Brigson, who, having been at last disowned by his relations, is at present a policeman in London." "On the principle, I suppose, of 'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" said Montagu, with a smile.
"Yes; but he exemplifies the truth 'chassez le naturel, il revient au galop' for he was charged with abetting a street fight between two boys, which very nearly ended fatally.

However, he was penitent, and Graham got him off with wonderful cleverness." "Ah!" said Montagu, sighing, "there was _one_ who would have been the pride of Roslyn had he lived Poor, poor Eric!" We talked long of our loved friend; his bright face, his winning words, his merry smile, came back to us with the memory of his melancholy fate, and a deep sadness fell over us.
"Poor boy, he is at peace now," said Montagu; and he told me once more the sorrowful particulars of his death.