scredited."

So the "eccentric Oscard" finished his earthly career in the
intellectual atmosphere of a coroner's jury. And the world rather liked
it than otherwise. The world, one finds, does like novelty, even in
death. Some day an American will invent a new funeral, and if he can
only get the patent, will make a fortune.

The world was, moreover, pleased to pity Guy Oscard with that pure and
simple sympathy which is ever accorded to the wealthy in affliction.
Every one knew that Thomas Oscard had enjoyed affluence during his
lifetime, and there was no reason to suppose that Guy would not step
into very comfortably lined shoes. It was unfortunate that he should
lose his father in such a tragic way, and the keen eye of the world
saw the weak point in his story at once. But the coroner's jury was
respectful, and the rest of society never so much as hinted at the
possibility that Guy had not tried his best to keep his father alive.

Among the letters of sympathy, the young fellow received a note from
Lady Cantourne, whose acquaintance he had successfully renewed, and in
due course he called at her house in Vere Gardens to express somewhat
lamely his gratitude.

Her ladyship was at home, and Guy Oscard was ushered into her presence.
He looked round the room, with a half-suppressed gleam of searching
which was not overlooked by Millicent Chyne's aunt.

"It is very good of you to call," she said, "so soon after your poor
father's death. You must have had a great deal of trouble and worry.
Millicent and I have often talked of you, and sympathised with you. She
is out at the moment, but I expect her back almost at once. Will you sit
down?"

"Thanks," he said; and after he had drawn forward a chair he repeated
the word vaguely and comprehensively--"Thanks"--as if to cover as many
demands for gratitude as she could make.

"I knew your father very well," continued the lady, "when we were young.
Great things were expected of him. Perhaps he expected them himself.
That may have accounted for a tone of pessimism that always seemed
to pervade his life. Now, you are quite different. You are not a
pessimist--eh?"

Guy gravely examined the back of his gloved hand. "Well, I am afraid I
have not given much thought to the question."

Lady Cantourne gave him the benefit of a very wise smile. She was
unrivalled in the art of turning a young man's mind inside out and
shaking it.

"No! you need not apologise. I am glad you have gi