should be the owner of Newton
Priory, and people would call me Mr. Newton. But I shouldn't be
Newton of Newton. It had better go to Ralph. I should live elsewhere,
and people would not notice me then."

Sir Thomas, as he looked up at the young man, leaning back in his
arm-chair and holding his glass half full of wine in his hand, could
not but tell himself that the greater was the pity. This off-shoot
of the Newton stock, who declared of himself that he never could be
Newton of Newton, was a fine, manly fellow to look at,--not handsome
as was Ralph the heir, not marked by that singular mixture of
gentleness, intelligence, and sweetness which was written, not only
on the countenance, but in the demeanour and very step of Gregory;
but he was a bigger man than either of them, with a broad chest, and
a square brow, and was not without that bright gleam of the Newton
blue eye, which characterised all the family. And there was so much
of the man in him;--whereas, in manhood, Ralph the heir had certainly
been deficient. "Ralph must lie on the bed that he has made," said
Sir Thomas. "And you, of course, will accept the good things that
come in your way. As far as I can see at present it will be best for
Ralph that your father should redeem from him a portion, at least, of
the property. The girls are waiting for us to go out, and perhaps you
will like a cigar on the lawn."

It was clear to every one there to see that this other Newton greatly
admired the West Indian cousin. And Mary, with this newcomer, seemed
to talk on easier terms than she had ever done before since she had
been at Fulham. She smiled, and listened, and was gracious, and made
those pleasant little half-affected sallies which girls do make to
men when they know that they are admired, and are satisfied that it
should be so. All the story had been told to her, and it might be
that the poor orphan felt that she was better fitted to associate
with the almost nameless one than with the true heir of the family.
Mr. Newton, when he got up to leave them, asked permission to come
again, and left them all with a pleasant air of intimacy. Two boats
had passed them, racing on the river, almost close to the edge of
their lawn, and Newton had offered to bet with Mary as to which would
first reach the bridge. "I wish you had taken my wager, Miss Bonner,"
he said, "because then I should have been bound to come back at once
to pay you." "That's all very well, Mr. Newton," sa