He knew his
popularity; he knew that he had a fine figure and a handsome face;
he knew that he had the sort of address which carried him through
his scrapes and adventures with flying colours. He found the world
a pleasant place, and saw no reason why he should not enjoy himself
in his own way whilst he was young. Some day he would marry and
sober down, and live as his fathers had done before him; but,
meantime, he meant to have his fling.
There were other Tuftons who had done the like before him, as his
father knew to his cost. Several times had the estate been sadly
impoverished by the demands made upon it by some of the wild
younger brothers, who had bequeathed (as it seemed) their
characteristics to this young scion, Tom. The Squire himself had
been living with great economy, that he might pay off a mortgage
which had been contracted by his own father, in order to save the
honour of the family, which had been imperilled by the extravagance
of his brother.
Tom never troubled himself about these things. He cared little how
his father scraped and saved, if he had but money in his pockets
sufficient for the needs of the day. Extravagance in money was less
Tom's foible than recklessness in his exploits, and a daring
disregard of authority.
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