t
sentimental people. They are the greatest humbugs in the world."

Returning to the table, he placed two large miniature cases in my hand.
I eagerly seized them.

"Don't look at them now," he resumed, "or we shall have a scene--wait
until you are alone. I found them among my brother's papers, and had
forgotten all about them, until I chanced to stumble over them in the
bustle of removing."

I hid away the precious relics in my bosom, and was about to quit the
room.

"Sit down, Geoffrey," he said, with a grim smile, "you are too sober to
go to bed yet."

I filled the glass mechanically, but it remained untasted before me.

"By the by," continued my uncle, in a careless tone, which his eager
glance contradicted, "what has become of your friend Harrison?"

"I wish I knew. His absence is a great loss to me."

"Who and what is this Harrison? You were his confidant, and, doubtless,
know."

"Of his private history, nothing."

My uncle's large dark eyes were looking into my soul. I felt that he
doubted my word. "He has, I believe, been unfortunate, and is reduced
in his circumstances. His moral character, _I know_ to be excellent."

"And doubtless you are a _capital judge_," said Mr. Moncton. "Young men
all imagine themselves as wise as Daniel or Socrates. I think, however,
friend Geoffrey, that this man deceived you."

"Impossible! Harrison is incapable of committing a mean or
dishonourable action. Nor does he attempt to spare himself from blame;
but frankly confesses, that to his own imprudence he is mainly indebted
for his misfortunes."

"_Imprudence_ is a respectable term for intemperance, dissipation, and
vice of every kind," sneered my uncle. "Your moral young gentleman
might preach against sins which had caused his own ruin. Believe me,
Geoffrey, the crimes and passions of most men are alike, with only this
difference, that some have greater art in concealing them."

"That would make virtue a mere name," said I, indignantly. "I cannot
believe _that_ ideal, which I have been used to worship as a
_reality_."

"All bosh. At your age men cling to the ideal, and resolutely close
their eyes to the true and rational. I was guilty of the same weakness
once."

"You, uncle!"

"Ay, you are astonished. But the time came, and too soon, when I
learned to wonder at my own credulity. I was in love once. You smile.
Yes, with that old witch, as you call her now. She was as beautiful as
an angel then. She is an inc