As Nigel hesitated, a young gentleman of the Temple advanced towards
him, whom he had often seen, and sometimes conversed with, at the
ordinary, where he was a frequent and welcome guest, being a wild
young gallant, indifferently well provided with money, who spent at
the theatres and other gay places of public resort, the time which his
father supposed he was employing in the study of the law. But Reginald
Lowestoffe, such was the young Templar's name, was of opinion that
little law was necessary to enable him to spend the revenues of the
paternal acres which were to devolve upon him at his father's demose,
and therefore gave himself no trouble to acquire more of that science
than might be imbibed along with the learned air of the region in
which he had his chambers. In other respects, he was one of the wits
of the place, read Ovid and Martial, aimed at quick repartee and pun,
(often very far fetched,) danced, fenced, played at tennis, and
performed sundry tunes on the fiddle and French horn, to the great
annoyance of old Counsellor Barratter, who lived in the chambers
immediately below him. Such was Reginald Lowes-toffe, shrewd, alert,
and well-acquainted with the town through all its recesses, but in a
sort of disrespectable way. This gallant, now approaching the Lord
Glenvarloch, saluted him by name and title, and asked if his lordship
designed for the Chevalier's this day, observing it was near noon, and
the woodcock would be on the board before they could reach the
ordinary.
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