Loved his memory still, for all he knew. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. His food lay untouched about his plate. And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour.
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