ral quickness counterfeited knowledge so well that few, in every-day
intercourse, could detect the imposition. He never read a book through,
but he skimmed some thousands, and was thoroughly familiar with
that process so popular in our Universities, and technically termed
"cramming" an author. In this way, there were few subjects on which he
could not speak fairly,--a faculty to which considerable fluency and
an easy play of fancy lent great assistance. His great craft, however,
was--and whatever may be said on the subject, it would seem the peculiar
gift of certain organizations--that he was able, in an inconceivably
short time, to worm himself into the confidence of almost all with whom
he came in contact. His natural good sense, his singularly clear views,
his ever ready sympathy, but, more than all, the dexterity with which
he could affect acquaintance with topics he was all but totally ignorant
of, pointed him out as the very person to hear the secrets of a family.

Mr. Corrigan was not one to exact any great efforts of Linton's tact
in this walk; his long isolation from the world, Joined to a character
naturally frank, made him communicative and open; and before Linton had
passed a week under his roof, he had heard all the circumstances of the
old forfeiture, and the traditionary belief of the family that it had
been withdrawn under a special order of the King in council.

"You are quite right," said Linton, one night, as this theme bad
been discussed for some hours, "never to have alluded to this in any
correspondence with Cashel. His hasty and excitable temper would have
construed the whole into a threat; and there is no saying how he might
have resented it."

"I did not speak of it for a very different reason," said old Corrigan,
proudly; "I had just accepted a favor--and a great one--at his hands,
and I would not tarnish the lustre of his noble conduct by even the
possibility of self-interest."

Linton was silent; a struggle of some kind seemed working within him,
but he did not speak, and at last sauntered from the room, and passed
out into the little garden in front.

He had not gone far, when he heard a light footstep on the gravel behind
him. He turned, and saw Mary Leicester.

"I have followed you, Mr. Linton," said she, in a voice whose agitation
was perceptible, "because I thought it possible that some time or other,
in your close intimacy with Mr. Cashel, you might allude to this topic,
and I kno