ed that he
should remain as long as might be convenient, and the earl expressed his
acknowledgments; he hoped soon to be re-established on his legs.

But he was not. The gout came, and the gout went--not positively laying
him up in bed, but rendering him unable to leave his rooms; and this
continued until October, when he grew much better. The county families
had been neighborly, calling on the invalid earl, and occasionally
carrying off Lady Isabel, but his chief and constant visitor had been
Mr. Carlyle. The earl had grown to like him in no common degree, and was
disappointed if Mr. Carlyle spent an evening away from him, so that he
became, as it were, quite domesticated with the earl and Isabel. "I am
not quite equal to general society," he observed to his daughter,
"and it is considerate and kind of Carlyle to come here and cheer my
loneliness."

"Extremely kind," said Isabel. "I like him very much, papa."

"I don't know anybody that I like half as well," was the rejoinder of
the earl.

Mr. Carlyle went up as usual the same evening, and, in the course of it,
the earl asked Isabel to sing.

"I will if you wish, papa," was the reply, "but the piano is so much out
of tune that it is not pleasant to sing to it. Is there any one in West
Lynne who could come here and tune my piano, Mr. Carlyle?" she added,
turning to him.

"Certainly there is. Kane would do it. Shall I send him to-morrow?"

"I should be glad, if it would not be giving you too much trouble. Not
that tuning will benefit it greatly, old thing that it is. Were we to be
much at East Lynne, I should get papa to exchange it for a good one."

Little thought Lady Isabel that that very piano was Mr. Carlyle's, and
not hers. The earl coughed, and exchanged a smile and a glance with his
guest.

Mr. Kane was the organist of St. Jude's church, a man of embarrassment
and sorrow, who had long had a sore fight with the world. When he
arrived at East Lynne, the following day, dispatched by Mr. Carlyle,
Lady Isabel happened to be playing, and she stood by, and watched him
begin his work. She was courteous and affable--she was so to every
one--and the poor music master took courage to speak of his own affairs,
and to prefer a humble request--that she and Lord Mount Severn would
patronize and personally attend a concert he was about to give the
following week. A scarlet blush came into his thin cheeks as he
confessed that he was very poor, could scarcely live, and