If Charles I had never had his head cut off, and if the Georges had never come from Hanover, the Whartons would now probably be great people and Britain a great nation.

But the Evil One had been allowed to prevail, and everything had gone astray, and Sir Alured now had nothing of this world to console him but a hazy retrospect of past glories, and a delight in the beauty of his own river, his own park, and his own house.

Sir Alured, with all his foibles and with all his faults, was a pure-minded, simple gentleman, who could not tell a lie, who could not do a wrong, and who was earnest in his desire to make those who were dependent on him comfortable, and, if possible, happy.

Once a year he came up to London for a week, to see his lawyers, and get measured for a coat, and go to the dentist.

These were the excuses which he gave, but it was fancied by some that his wig was the great moving cause.