ing a grand tour--which is not a fib, after
all--and as for your name, I said that you were at present _incog_."

"But why did you make me _incog._?"

"Because it may suit you so to be; and it certainly is the truth, for
you don't know your real name."

We were here interrupted by the waiter bringing in a letter upon a
salver. "Here is a letter addressed to 'I, or J.N., on his return from
his tour,' sir," said he; "I presume it is for you?"

"You may leave it," said I, with nonchalance.

The waiter laid the letter on the table, and retired.

"How very odd, Timothy--this letter cannot be for me; and yet they are
my initials. It is as much like a J as an I. Depend upon it, it is some
fellow who has just gained this intelligence below, and has written to
ask for a subscription to his charity list, imagining that I am flush of
money, and liberal."

"I suppose so," replied Tim; "however, you may just as well see what he
says."

"But if I open it he will expect something. I had better refuse it."

"O no, leave that to me; I know how to put people off."

"After all, it is a fine thing to be a gentleman, and be petitioned."

I broke open the seal, and found that the letter contained an inclosure
addressed to another person. The letter was as follows:--

"My dear Nephew,--['Bravo, sir,' said Timothy; 'you've found an
uncle already--you'll soon find a father.'] From the great
uncertainty of the post, I have not ventured to do more than hint
at what has come to light during this last year, but as it is
necessary that you should be acquainted with the whole transaction;
and as you had not decided when you last wrote, whether you would
prosecute your intended three months trip to Sicily, or return from
Milan, you may probably arrive when I am out of town; I therefore
enclose you a letter to Mr Masterton, directing him to surrender to
you a sealed packet, lodged in his hands, containing all the
particulars, the letters which bear upon them, and what has been
proposed to avoid exposure; which you may peruse at your leisure,
should you arrive before my return to town. There is no doubt but
that the affair may be hushed up, and we trust that you will see
the prudence of the measure; as, once known, it will be very
discreditable to the family escutcheon. ('I always had an idea you
were of good family,' interrupted Tim.) I wish you had follow