no great sympathy; in consequence,
as it was rumoured, of a certain beauty's preference for the latter,
though this preference produced no _suites_, inasmuch as the lady died a
maid. Mr. Gregory Wychecombe, the lieutenant in question, was what is
termed a "wild boy;" and it was the general impression, when his parents
sent him to sea, that the ocean would now meet with its match. The hopes
of the family centred in the judge, after the death of the curate, and
it was a great cause of regret, to those who took an interest in its
perpetuity and renown, that this dignitary did not marry; since the
premature death of all the other sons had left the hall, park, and
goodly farms, without any known legal heir. In a word, this branch of
the family of Wychecombe would be extinct, when Sir Wycherly died, and
the entail become useless. Not a female inheritor, even, or a male
inheritor through females, could be traced; and it had become imperative
on Sir Wycherly to make a will, lest the property should go off, the
Lord knew where; or, what was worse, it should escheat. It is true, Tom
Wychecombe, the judge's eldest son, often gave dark hints about a
secret, and a timely marriage between his parents, a fact that would
have superseded the necessity for all devises, as the property was
strictly tied up, so far as the lineal descendants of a certain _old_
Sir Wycherly were concerned; but the present Sir Wycherly had seen his
brother, in his last illness, on which occasion, the following
conversation had taken place.

"And now, brother Thomas," said the baronet, in a friendly and consoling
manner; "having, as one may say, prepared your soul for heaven, by these
prayers and admissions of your sins, a word may be prudently said,
concerning the affairs of this world. You know I am childless--that is
to say,--"

"I understand you, Wycherly," interrupted the dying man, "you're a
_bachelor_."

"That's it, Thomas; and bachelors _ought_ not to have children. Had our
poor brother James escaped that mishap, he might have been sitting at
your bed-side at this moment, and _he_ could have told us all about it.
St. James I used to call him; and well did he deserve the name!"

"St. James the Least, then, it must have been, Wycherly."

"It's a dreadful thing to have no heir, Thomas! Did you ever know a case
in your practice, in which another estate was left so completely without
an heir, as this of ours?"

"It does not often happen, brother; he