ingled
feelings that Mrs Morgan entered the drawing-room, and found it
occupied by Mr Leeson, who always came too early, and who, on the
present occasion, had some sufficiently strange news to tell.

CHAPTER XLVI.

Mr Wentworth did not accept Mrs Morgan's sudden invitation, partly
because his "people" did not leave Carlingford that evening, and
partly because, though quite amiably disposed towards the Rector, whom
he had worsted in fair fight, he was not sufficiently interested in
anything he was likely to hear or see in Mr Morgan's house to move him
to spend his evening there. He returned a very civil answer to the
invitation of the Rector's wife, thanking her warmly for her
friendliness, and explaining that he could not leave his father on the
last night of his stay in Carlingford; after which he went to dinner
at his aunts', where the household was still much agitated. Not to
speak of all the events which had happened and were happening, Jack,
who had begun to tire of his new character of the repentant prodigal,
had shown himself in a new light that evening, and was preparing to
leave, to the relief of all parties. The prodigal, who no longer
pretended to be penitent, had taken the conversation into his own
hands at dinner. "I have had things my own way since I came here,"
said Jack; "somehow it appears I have a great luck for having things
my own way. It is you scrupulous people who think of others and of
such antiquated stuff as duty, and so forth, that get yourselves into
difficulties. My dear aunt, I am going away; if I were to remain an
inmate of this house--I mean to say, could I look forward to the
privilege of continuing a member of this Christian family--another
day, I should know better how to conduct myself; but I am going back
to my bad courses, aunt Dora; I am returning to the world--"

"Oh! Jack, my dear, I hope not," said aunt Dora, who was much
bewildered, and did not know what to say.

"Too true," said the relapsed sinner; "and considering all the lessons
you have taught me, don't you think it is the best thing I could do?
There is my brother Frank, who has been carrying other people about on
his shoulders, and doing his duty; but I don't see that you good
people are at all moved in his behalf. You leave him to fight his way
by himself, and confer your benefits elsewhere, which is an odd sort
of lesson for a worldling like me. As for Gerald, you know he's a
virtuous fool, as I have heard