n my shoulders."

Sir Austin had really gone down to Wales to be out of the way. A
Shaddock-Dogmatist does not meet misfortune without hearing of it, and
the author of The Pilgrim'S Scrip in trouble found London too hot for
him. He quitted London to take refuge among the mountains; living there
in solitary commune with a virgin Note-book.

Some indefinite scheme was in his head in this treatment of his son. Had
he construed it, it would have looked ugly; and it settled to a vague
principle that the young man should be tried and tested.

"Let him learn to deny himself something. Let him live with his equals
for a term. If he loves me he will read my wishes." Thus he explained his
principle to Lady Blandish.

The lady wrote: "You speak of a term. Till when? May I name one to him?
It is the dreadful uncertainty that reduces him to despair. That, and
nothing else. Pray be explicit."

In return, he distantly indicated Richard's majority.

How could Lady Blandish go and ask the young man to wait a year away from
his wife? Her instinct began to open a wide eye on the idol she
worshipped.

When people do not themselves know what they mean, they succeed in
deceiving and imposing upon others. Not only was Lady Blandish mystified;
Mrs. Doria, who pierced into the recesses of everybody's mind, and had
always been in the habit of reading off her brother from infancy, and had
never known herself to be once wrong about him, she confessed she was
quite at a loss to comprehend Austin's principle. "For principle he has,"
said Mrs. Doria; "he never acts without one. But what it is, I cannot at
present perceive. If he would write, and command the boy to await his
return, all would be clear. He allows us to go and fetch him, and then
leaves us all in a quandary. It must be some woman's influence. That is
the only way to account for it."

"Singular!" interjected Adrian, "what pride women have in their sex!
Well, I have to tell you, my dear aunt, that the day after to-morrow I
hand my charge over to your keeping. I can't hold him in an hour longer.
I've had to leash him with lies till my invention's exhausted. I petition
to have them put down to the chief's account, but when the stream runs
dry I can do no more. The last was, that I had heard from him desiring me
to have the South-west bedroom ready for him on Tuesday proximate. 'So!'
says my son, 'I'll wait till then,' and from the gigantic effort he
exhibited in coming to it, I dou