w what distress such a communication would occasion to my
grandfather. Our claim--if the word be not inapplicable--can never be
revived; for myself, there is no condition of privation I would not
rather meet, than encounter the harassing vicissitudes of a struggle
which should embitter my poor dear grandfather's few years on earth. The
very mention of the theme is sure to render him irritable and unhappy.
Promise me, then, to avoid the subject as much as possible here, and
never to advert to it elsewhere."

"Should I not be doing you a gross injustice by such a pledge?" said
Linton, mildly.

"I can endure that; I cannot support the alternative. Make me this
promise."

"I make it, truly and solemnly; would it were in my power to pledge
myself to aught of real service to Miss. Leicester."

"There is one such," said Mary, after a pause, "and yet I am ashamed
to ask it,--ashamed of the presumption it would imply,--and yet I feel
acquitted to my own heart."

"What is it?--only tell me how I can serve you," said Linton,
passionately.

"I have scarce courage for the avowal," said she, in a low, faint voice.
"It is not that my self-love can be wounded by any judgment that may be
pronounced; it is rather that I dread failure for itself. In a word,
Mr. Linton, certain circumstances of fortune have pressed upon my
grandfather's resources, some of which I am aware of--of others
ignorant. So much, however, do I know, that the comforts, so necessary
to his age and habits, have diminished one by one, each year seeing some
new privations, where increasing infirmity would demand more ease.
In this emergency, I have thought of an effort--you will smile at the
folly, perhaps, but be lenient for the motive--I have endeavored to make
some of the many reminiscences of his own early years contribute to his
old age, and have written certain short sketches of the time when, as a
youth, he served as a soldier of the body-guard of Louis XVI. I know
how utterly valueless they are in a literary point of view, but I have
thought that, as true pictures of a time now probably passed away never
to return again, they might have their interest Such is my secret.
My entreaty is, to ask of you to look at them, and, if not utterly
unworthy, to assist me regarding their publication."

"I not only promise this, but I can pledge myself to the success," said
Linton; "such recitals of life and manners as I have listened to from
Mr. Corrigan would be inv