w thinking
of marrying some tradesman's daughter to relieve him of his
embarrassments? We have to own, I suppose, that Master Ralph has made
a mess of his money matters?" The parson, who couldn't deny the fact,
hardly knew what to say on his brother's behalf. "I protest to you,
Greg, that if my father were to tell me that he had changed his mind,
and paid your brother's debts out of sheer kindness and uncleship,
and the rest of it, I should be well pleased. But he won't do that,
and it does seem to me probable that the estate will get into the
hands of Jews, financiers, and professional money-dealers, unless my
father can save it. You wouldn't be glad to see some shopkeeper's
daughter calling herself Mrs. Newton of Newton."

"A shopkeeper's daughter need not necessarily be a--a--a bad sort of
woman," said Gregory.

"The chances are that a shopkeeper's daughter will not be an educated
lady. Come, Greg;--you cannot say that it is the kind of way out of
the mess you would approve."

"I am so sorry that there should be any mess at all!"

"Just so. It is a pity that there should be any mess;--is not it?
Come, old fellow, drink your coffee, and let us take a turn across
the park. I want to see what Larkin is doing about those sheep. I
often feel that my coming into the world was a mess altogether;
though, now that I am here, I must make the best of it. If I hadn't
come, my father would have married, and had a score of children, and
Master Ralph would have been none the better for it."

"You'll go and see the Underwoods," said the parson, as they were
walking across the park.

[Illustration: "You'll go and see the Underwoods," said the parson,
as they were walking across the park.]

"If you wish it, I will."

"I do wish it. They know all the history as a matter of course. It
cannot be otherwise. And they have so often heard me talk of you. The
girls are simply perfect. I shall write to Miss Underwood, and tell
her that you will call. I hope, too, that you will see Sir Thomas. It
would be so much better that he should know you."

That same night Gregory Newton wrote the two following letters before
he went to bed;--the first written was to Miss Underwood, and the
second to his brother; but we will place the latter first;--

Newton, 4th August, 186--.

MY DEAR RALPH,--

No doubt you know by this time that my uncle, Gregory, is
in London, though you will probably not have seen him. I
understa