Early on the ensuing morning, Varney acted as the Earl’s chamberlain as well as his master of horse, though the latter was his proper office in that magnificent household, where knights and gentlemen of good descent were well contented to hold such menial situations, as nobles themselves held in that of the sovereign. The duties of each of these charges were familiar to Varney, who, sprung from an ancient but somewhat decayed family, was the Earl’s page during his earlier and more obscure fortunes, and, faithful to him in adversity, had afterwards contrived to render himself no less useful to him in his rapid and splendid advance to fortune; thus establishing in him an interest resting both on present and past services, which rendered him an almost indispensable sharer of his confidence.
“Help me to do on a plainer riding-suit, Varney,” said the Earl, as he laid aside his morning-gown, flowered with silk, and lined with sables, “and put these chains and fetters there” (pointing to the collars of the various Orders which lay on the table) “into their place of security—my neck last night was well nigh broke with the weight of them. I am half of the mind that they shall gall me no more. They are bonds which knaves have invented to fetter fools. How think’st thou, Varney?”
“Faith, my good lord,” said his attendant, “I think fetters of gold are like no other fetters—they are ever the weightier the welcomer.”
“For all that, Varney,” replied his master, “I am wellnigh resolved they shall bind me to the court no longer. What can further service and higher
