Be this as it will, Mr. Hartley had no such motives to overlook this new
occurrence. Just however as he had begun to take it into his mature
consideration, he received the compliments of Mr. Moreland, with an
intimation of his design to make him a visit that very afternoon.
At this message Mr. Hartley was a good deal surprised. Mr. Moreland he had
never but once seen, and in that visit, he thought he had had reason to be
offended with him. If that gentleman treated the company of Mr. Prattle
and lord Martin, persons universally admired, as not good enough for him,
it seemed unaccountable that he should have recourse to him. He was
neither distinguished by the elegance of his accomplishments, nor did he
much pride himself in the attainments of literature. After many
conjectures, he at length determined with infinite sagacity, to suspend
his judgement, till Mr. Moreland mould solve the enigma.
This determination was scarcely made before his visitor arrived. That
gentleman, who, though full of sensibility and benevolence, was not a man
of empty ceremony, immediately opened his business. Mr. Hartley, drew
himself up in his chair, and, with the dignity of a citizen of London, who
thinks that the first character in the world, cried, "Well, sir, and who
is this nephew of yours? I think I never heard of him." "He is the son,"
answered Mr. Moreland, "of lord Thomas Villiers.
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